Bronze Age. Crete. The study of militarism in Minoan Crete has always been plagued by paradoxes. The ancient Greeks believed that Crete under King Minos had ruled a thalassocracy—a naval empire—as attested to as late as in the works of Thucydides. However, Evans, who did support this notion, also believed the Minoans were an inherently peaceful society, not marked by the warlike aspect of their northern neighbors, an opinion emphasized by the lack of fortifications throughout the island. However, as early as the Early Bronze Age, Crete had several times more weapons than mainland Greece and the Cyclades combined (Branigan 1999, 88). However, the majority of these weapons were daggers and rather flimsy swords, none of which were especially fit for combat. What does it all mean?
With very rare exceptions, such as the Middle Minoan I villa at Aghia Pho-tia, there really were no fortified settlements in Minoan Crete. This strongly suggests that defense was not a major concern, probably indicating that (1) there was general stability among the urban and palatial centers of Crete, and (2) the sea helped to keep any other potential aggressors at bay (literally!). One must remember, though, that the extremely martial Mycenaeans (see below) also had few major defensive structures until the fourteenth century b. c.e.
In contrast to the martial Mycenaeans, though, the Minoans made no use of war imagery in their art. The scenes of hunting and battle endemic to Mycenaean art are strikingly absent in the Minoan repertoire. But, as Gates has argued (1999), societies do not depict actual life in their art; they depict items relating to their own values and aesthetics. The popularity of paintings of shepherdesses in eighteenth-century France does not mean that the nobility all went out and tended sheep (with the exception of Marie Antoinette), but that they liked the idea of the pastoral life. Therefore, the absence of martial scenes in Minoan art may reflect Minoan tastes rather than life, and it cannot be used as evidence of noncombative tendencies in their society.
In the end, based on an assessment of the fighting capabilities of Minoan swords and daggers and the funerary contexts in which they are found, along with the overall lack of interest in military art and trappings, Peatfield (1999) has suggested that "militarism" in Minoan society was mainly an elite affair. Daggers have come to light in several tombs, and they routinely appear on male figurines, suggesting that the dagger was both a status symbol and marker of social identity, whether or not it was actually used in knife fights. The idea that daggers could have been used as actual weapons is apparent from their double-edged blades, more effort than necessary for paring knives (Peatfield 1999, 68). The various types of swords developed and supposedly used by the Minoans were slender rapier styles (the type used for thrusting rather than hacking). Much as in modern fencing, they could be effective in single combat, but they were hardly practical in full-scale combat, especially against cutlass-style weaponry.
Furthermore, in the Late Minoan funerary remains, swords appear in graves accompanied by jewelry, indicating the elite, or at least wealthy, status of the interred. Based on the class of the owner and the potential of the swords, Peat-field has suggested that "combat" in Minoan (or at least Knossian) society was a ritualized affair between members of an elite class, possibly even for religious purposes. No one appears to have been using weapons to defend his or her life (Peatfield 1999, 71). This accounts for the prevalence of weapons in Mi-noan Crete along with the general absence of fortifications.
Cyclades. The situation was quite different in the Cyclades, where fortifications appeared by the Early Bronze Age at Kastri on Syros, at Panermos and Spedos on Naxos, and at Phylakopi on Melos, and by the late Middle Bronze Age-early Late Bronze Age at Haghia Irini on Keos (Ducrey 1986, 21; Branigan 1999, 90; Barber 1999, 134). In truth, the early fortification walls were comparatively flimsy in contrast to the "Cyclopean" walls of Mycenaean Greece, but they at least had visual impact, possibly enough to ward off potential aggressors. Those potential aggressors were probably other Cycladists; evidence of
Ships and trade (see chapter 5) indicate that Aegean residents traveled quite a bit among the various Cycladic islands. Large-scale combats were hardly the norm in the early Cyclades, though. Analyses of the ships suggest that they could transport only about twenty-five to thirty men, traveling at a speed of 6-12 mph (Branigan 1999, 91). Also, as no one would have wanted too many warriors to be out of town for too long (this would leave the town defenseless), this would have resulted in short, small-scale piratical raids, in which the different towns just attacked each other and went home. So, violence was common, but it was limited and local, probably enacted by part-time pirates who were really full-time farmers.
Evidence for larger combat scenarios is present in the frescoes at Thera, a Minoan colony but physically part of the Cyclades. The image in question is the Miniature Fresco in the West House, specifically the one entitled Shipwreck and Landing Party. In the lower part of the image, one sees naked (= dead) bodies in water next to ships still afloat. Above the scene is a rural village with small-scale architecture and residents in simple clothing. To the right is a line of soldiers carrying spears, animal-hide shields, and boar's tusk helmets (see chapter 9). The fact that none of the village folk seem overly concerned with the soldiers, and the fact that the soldiers are walking away from the town, suggest that whatever violence did/will occur is happening outside the village. The corpses in the sea may indicate that the soldiers are coming home after a successful battle. However, the soldiers' arms and armor are typical of the Mycenaeans, especially the boar's' tusk helmets. Minoan shields as they appear in the iconography were generally shaped like a figure-eight (see chapter 9). Therefore, it is possible that what we see here is some manner of early Greek infantry, making their way throughout the Aegean before the real conquest of Minoan territories in the fifteenth century b. c.e. One theory explaining the amazing wealth suddenly apparent in Mycenaean Greece at the time of the shaft graves (c. 1650) is that the early Greeks served as mercenaries in northern Africa; we may be seeing a depiction here of early Greek mercenary soldiers.
In the Late Helladic III period, the Cyclades came under the direct influence, if not control, of the Mycenaeans. This is evident in the copious imports of Mycenaean wares into the islands, as well as Mycenaean elements in Cycladic architecture, such as the megaron. Likewise, in the mid-thirteenth century, there was an intensification of fortifications in the Cyclades, occurring in tandem with similar developments on the mainland. Although the Theran frescoes do give evidence for Mycenaean soldiers possibly fighting in the Cyclades (although northern Africa is also likely) in the eighteenth century b. c.e., it appears that this military escalation did not occur in the Cyclades in the face of Mycenaean aggression, but as an extension of Mycenaean defensiveness at the end of the Bronze Age (Barber 1999, 134-138).
Greece. As with the Cyclades, it is evident that the mainland had belligerence problems from very early on. The generally accepted theory concerning the first arrival of the Greeks in Greece (see chapter 4) is based upon a series of destructions—accompanied by a new style of pottery—evident at the dawn of
The Early Helladic III period. Although these Indo-European newcomers came in with a literal crash, they seem to have calmed down a bit between the end of the Early Bronze Age and the middle of the Middle Bronze Age. Starting in the late Middle Bronze Age, though, the earliest stirrings of what would become Mycenaean civilization were accompanied by a renewed interest in violence. This is evident in the artwork of the shaft graves at Mycenae (see chapter 4), where aboveground commemorative stelai and goods buried with the deceased show a marked interest in aggression. Not only were the interred buried with weapons, but items such as knives were decorated with battle and hunting scenes. Clearly, violence, real or imagined, played an important role in the early Mycenaeans' sense of self and social identity.
Nevertheless, the apparent aggressiveness of the Mycenaean period was not consistent, and there was an evolution in militaristic ideology over the course of the Middle and Late Helladic periods. In the Middle Helladic, Grave Circle B at Mycenae (the older of the two grave circles) and a similar burial at Pylos were filled primarily with men. Furthermore, study of the physical remains has shown that these fellows were rather young when they died, in spite of the fact that they were in good health. These data, plus the interest in war-oriented art, suggest that the grave occupants were warriors who died in battle and were "rewarded" with an ostentatious and glorious burial (Acheson 1999, 99)
The purpose of this relatively prevalent warfare appears to have been for territorial acquisition (and the rewards that came with it) and for prestige. In fact, prestige was probably how the warriors were able to maintain their newly conquered territories, and so the intense interest in military paraphernalia probably had a lot to do with advertising one's martial status—there was a combined need to be a good warrior and be known as a good warrior. As Sigrid Deger-Jalkotzy put it, "The claim of social and political leadership, as well as the chance of accumulating wealth by monopolizing the access to the economic resources seems to have rested upon the performance of military excellence. Moreover the ostentation of military prowess was certainly prominent among those factors which shaped the lifestyle, the self-awareness and the corporate identity of those individuals who formed the upper social group(s) and who claimed to political leadership" (Deger-Jalkotzy 1999, 122).
Once one had acquired territory, though, it behooved one to find nonviolent means of keeping it. This was certainly easier on the knees. In the earlier years of the Late Helladic, the Mycenaeans did just that—they replaced military domination with domination through religious justification and a well-entrenched bureaucracy. This is evident in changes in elite burials. Although the late Middle Helladic burials focused on young male warriors, the early Late Helladic graves featured more women and children. Noble families, rather than individual warriors, were now being honored (Acheson 1999, 99). Such nobility and bureaucracy were embodied in the palaces themselves, which were under the dominion of the wanakes (pl. of wanax). As stated in chapter 7, the wanax had only a minimal military component to his duties, which were more geared toward religious function. In such a way, the land was ruled not through military force, but through the auspices of a divinely
Sanctioned king, whose religious role no doubt encouraged obedience from his constituency. Furthermore, this wanax maintained close social bonds with his bureaucracy, the nobility, probably through communal feasting and drinking in the megaron (see above, in the section on symposia). The combination of divine right and a closely bonded administration lessened the need for ostentatious display of militarism.
At this point, then, Mycenaean Greece went from having a military based on individual warriors to having one based on a regular army. The Linear B tablets show that the palaces kept track of weapon and armor production, chariot maintenance, and muster rolls. But the army as such (as well as the navy) was just another piece of the bureaucracy, under the auspices of the lawagetas, who, while socially significant, was still below the wanax in status. Although some art did depict militaristic themes, such as in the subsidiary Southwestern Building at Pylos (Davis and Bennet 1999, 108 ff.), the "official" art program sponsored by the palaces was far more pacific in nature, featuring lovely ladies, fantastic creatures, and banquet scenes.
Such a system works well during periods of peace and stability, two words that do not mark the end of the Mycenaean period. The fact that the threat of violence increased toward the end of the Late Helladic period was evident in a new concern to fortify the palace centers such as those at Mycenae. These were real fortifications, much sturdier than those of the Cyclades, containing access to water and room for the general population. By the end of the Mycenaean period (Late Helladic IIIC), the palaces were burnt down and the hierarchy apparently dismantled, with the last of the Linear B tablets referring to increased calls for rowers and "watchers of the coasts." At this time, there was a reversal in the militaristic downplay of the preceding centuries, as once again the welfare of the state came into the hands of the warriors, now relying more on personal valor than on the efficient operations of the palatial machinery. Military scenes again took precedence in art, such as on the Late Helladic IIIC Warrior Vase (see Image 9.31). Such a world fraught with violence and dependent on the personal fighting prowess of its heroes is very much in line with Homeric society, which was primarily based on the realities of life at the end of the Bronze Age.
Dark and Early Archaic Ages. The evidence from Egypt and Palestine, such as the Medinet Habu reliefs mentioned above, shows that at the end of the Bronze Age many Greeks went off into the world to seek their fortunes as mercenaries—often bringing their families with them. Thus Greek cohorts like the Peleset (see chapter 4), one of the tribes composing the Sea Peoples, originally attacked Egypt on behalf of the king of Libya. Later, they went to work for the Pharaoh, settling in southern Palestine to maintain the region for Egypt. Such soldiers brought many aspects of Greek military life with them, such as greaves, but they also borrowed elements from their new neighbors, such as scop (scale) armor. Eventually, these mercenary-settlers so thoroughly merged with the indigenous populations that all traces of their Greek origins were lost.
Nevertheless, many Greeks also stayed in Greece after the fall of the Bronze Age. For this period, some of our best evidence for military culture is the Homeric epics, which show the armies to be composed primarily of aristocrats: nobles fighting under the auspices of individual princes, themselves under the authority of a "high king"—the wanax. In the Iliad, Agamemnon, "King of Men," was the high king and general-in-chief of the Greeks. He received the greater share of booty, even though he was not necessarily the best fighter (who was, of course, Achilles). So, in Book 1 (ll. 163-168), Achilles complains:
Never do I have a prize equal to yours, whenever the Achaeans
Sack the well-peopled city of the Trojans,
Although my hands took on a greater part
Of furious warfare. But when the apportioning comes,
To you goes the greater prize; but with some small, dear thing
I return to the ships, when I'm weary of fighting.
Thus, status in this society depended not on good fighting, but on birth and possessions. Under Agamemnon were the kings of Greece, such as Achilles, Odysseus, and even Agamemnon's brother Menelaus. These in turn brought fighting men from their territories: Achilles, for example, brought his subjects the Myrmidions, who fought under Achilles and obeyed his orders, not those of Agamemnon. So it would seem that the chain of command went only one link at a time. Agamemnon more or less (often less) controlled the princes, while they controlled their subjects rather independently of the high king.
The various princes had different reasons for going to Troy. Menelaus had to win back his wife and punish the Trojans for taking her. Agamemnon, as wanax, had to care for the concerns of his brother and subject Menelaus. Other warriors went for the glory and booty to be won. As Sarpedon and Glaukos discuss in Book 12 of the Iliad, they receive the status of kings in Lykia in exchange for their feats of daring on the front lines. In short, individual soldiers were seeking prestige for themselves, and so they had to accomplish impressive feats independently on the battlefield. Fighting, then, was predominantly one-on-one during this period, hero against hero, with the winner receiving honor for killing his opponent (and probably ultimately enslaving that opponent's wife).
Contemporary with the Homeric epics, though, a revolution was occurring in Greek military organization. Starting in the eighth century b. c.e., to judge from archaeological remains (see chapter 9) and the poetry of the time, the every-man-for-himself style of warfare was giving way to hoplite warfare. A hoplite was a heavily armed soldier, usually clad in helmet, chest plate, possibly greaves, and, most importantly, a new style of shield. He was armed with two spears and, as a last defense, a short sword. It was the shield specifically that brought about the revolution. Before this, the usual shield had been large and extremely unwieldy, hanging from a strap around a person's neck and which he maneuvered with an arm that had to support much of the shield's weight. By contrast, the new, round shield had two straps on the interior, at-
6.5 Chigi Vase (Hirmer Fotoarchiv)
Taching to the elbow and the hand, making the shield much easier to hold and maneuver.
There was, however, one slight problem: The shield covered the left side of the body and went just past it, but it left the right side of the body exposed. To compensate, the soldier had to stay as close as possible to the soldier on his right, to protect his right side with the left overhang of his comrade's shield. This created a need for order in battle, as lines and ranks had to be maintained for the protection and safety of the troops. So the Greeks came to fight in phalanx formation, with lines of men (usually around eight) standing close enough together that the shield of one covered the man next to him, several ranks deep. Such is the style of fighting portrayed on the seventh-century Chigi Vase (see Image 6.5), and such is the description we get from Tyrtaios, a poet of the same century. In fragment 11, he writes:
For those who endure, standing by each other, going into hand-to-hand combat and the front lines, very few die, preserving the host behind them.
The virtue of fleeing men is totally destroyed;
No one would ever finish telling of these things:
How many shames he suffers, the evils existing for this man.
For it is appealing to pierce the mid-back
Of a fleeing man in dreadful war,
But disgraced is the corpse lying in the dust
With the point of a spear running through his back.
But let one stand fast, holding with both feet firmly planted on the ground, biting his lips.
Thighs and knees below, and chests and shoulders covered over by the belly of the broad shield.
In the right hand let him extend the mighty spear, let him shake the dread crest upon his head.
Accomplishing mighty deeds let him learn to fight, nor may he stand far from the missiles, holding his shield.
But one going close in combat, let him seize a man with his long spear, or attacking with a sword.
And going foot-to-foot and shield-to-shield, crest-to-crest and helm-to-helm
And heart-to-heart let him fight drawing near his man, seizing him with sharp sword or long spear.
And you, O light-armed ones! Crouching beneath another's shield
Cast your large boulders,
Hurling smooth javelins against them,
Standing by the hoplites.
For all its interdependence, though, hoplite warfare was still quite aristocratic. Each warrior had to provide his own armor and weapons, which were extremely expensive; only the wealthy could afford to fight. Slightly lower classes of fighters filled the ranks of the light-armed soldiers mentioned by Tyrtaios. They wore less armor, if any at all, and their arms consisted of slingshots and other simple weapons. Armies, nevertheless, were generally composed of the upper class, and for many years, fighting as a hoplite was a requirement for full citizenship, producing effective oligarchies (see chapter 7).
Classical Period. This new style of fighting radically changed the approach to warfare. Individual displays of heroism, which had been the core of Homeric battle, were the bane of the phalanx—no one was likely to appreciate having the fellow to his right racing off after the enemy and leaving his spear arm exposed. So the heroic ethos changed from one of individual prowess to one of group identity. It also created a need for training, as people are seldom able just to fall into and maintain the ranks of phalanx warfare. A certain amount of group training became necessary.
As discussed above in the section on age, different poleis took different approaches to this need for training. The Spartans, the most militaristic of the Greeks, made military training a lifelong process for males, starting at age seven in the agoge, graduating from the krypteia at age nineteen or twenty, being on active military duty through the thirties, and being on military call up until age sixty. For most other poleis, the process was far less rigorous (which,
Of course, is why the Spartans could usually beat them). For the Athenians, for example, group military training took place in the ephebeia, between ages seventeen and nineteen, when boys learned military drills and formations as well as literature and history. Upon "graduation" from the ephebeia, the Athenian boys went to the shrine of Aglauros on the Acropolis and took a vow to protect their homeland. The wording of this vow has been preserved in a fourth-century inscription:
I shall not disgrace my sacred weapons nor shall I desert my comrade at my side, wherever I stand in the ranks. I shall fight in defense of both sacred and secular things and I shall not hand down a fatherland that is reduced in size, but one that is larger and stronger as far as in me lies and with the assistance of all. I shall be obedient to those who on any occasion are governing prudently and to the laws that are established and to any that in the future may be wisely established. If anyone tries to destroy them, I shall resist both as far as in me lies and with the assistance of all, and I shall honor the sacred rites that are ancestral. These gods are witnesses: Agraulos [sic], Hestia, Enyo, Enyalios, Ares and Athena Areia, Zeus, Thallo, Auxo, Hegemone, Heracles, and the boundary-markers of the fatherland, the wheat, barley, vines, olive trees and fig trees. (Translation by Garland 1990, adapted)
The comparatively little training non-Spartans received in ancient Greece casts into sharp relief the different understanding they had of the idea of an army. Before the late Classical and Hellenistic periods, there was no such thing as a professional army outside of Sparta (where there was no other official industry). Elsewhere, soldiers were literally amateurs. Men had their various employments, usually farming for someone of hoplite status, and they took up military duties only during times of war. Granted, for the Greeks this was almost perpetual, but the idea was that any individual Greek male was first and foremost a farmer, merchant, potter, etc., and a soldier only on special occasions. There was no such thing as a professional army, in terms of either longterm commitment or payment (which is another reason hoplites had to be well-off financially). Any "payment" received by soldiers was in the form of booty—not too different from Homeric days, really. One effect of this amateur nature of the soldiers was that wars generally were not held during busy farming seasons. Wars were scheduled around other industries and generally took place during agricultural downtimes.
Until the fifth century b. c.e., then, warfare was remarkably classist. Only those who could afford a full hoplite complement could fight in the ranks, although it was less so for the light-armed fighters. Slaves were prohibited from fighting at all except under really bad circumstances. This elitist regime started breaking down, primarily in Athens, at the dawn of the fifth century in response to a new influx of money and two full-scale Persian invasions (see chapter 4). The new influx of money came from the Laurion silver mines, when a new vein of metal was discovered. After debating what to do with the new funds, Themistocles convinced the polis's assembly to invest in a naval fleet. This fleet could not only ameliorate trade, he contended, but it could help
To defend the city in times of war. At the Battle of Salamis in 479 b. c.e., this navy thoroughly routed the Persians, saving the day and effectively instigating Athens's sea-based empire. Henceforth, Athens was a naval power.
So, what did this mean on a social level? As stated above, it took money to be a soldier, to invest in armor and weapons. It took no money whatsoever to use an oar. As the need for oar-based warships increased, the lower classes had an opportunity not only to get jobs, but to get jobs defending Athens. Suddenly, all members of society (males, at any rate) were involved in the defense of the homeland. As military service was accepted as an important component of civic status, the rise of the navy increased the military contributions of the lower classes, thus increasing their participation and rights in government. A revolution in warfare led to a revolution in class ideology.
Professionalism. By the fifth century b. c.e., notions of full-time or professional soldiers started to play a role in the Greek military. This started with light-armed mercenaries from the "fringes" of the Greek world. Crete was famous for its archers, as was Scythia, and Thrace provided peltasts—soldiers with short swords and small shields. These mercenaries, probably landless, lower-class residents in their own poleis, sold their services throughout Greece. According to Thucydides, a contingent of Thracian peltasts was originally supposed to go along with the Athenians on the Sicilian Expedition. They arrived late, and they cost a drachma each per day (quite expensive at the time), so the Athenian Assembly just decided to send them home (Sage 1996, 152).
By the fourth century, professionally trained troops were definitely coming into fashion. The vanguard of this development was Thebes, which defeated Sparta at the Battle of Leuctra in 371, thus ending the Spartan military glory days. The most famous "professional" soldiers of the Late Classical period were the Theban Sacred Band. There is some debate as to when this institution first came into being, although evidence for them mainly exists for the fourth century, fighting against both the Spartans and the Macedonians. According to Plutarch in his Life of Pelopidas (18-19):
They say that Gorgidas first formed the Sacred Band from 300 picked men, for whom the city provided training and maintenance while they inhabited the Cadmeia, and because of this the band was called "of the city." For at that time acropoleis were, reasonably, called cities. And some say that this corps was composed of lovers and beloveds... [for] a corps bound together by amorous affection is indissoluble and unbreakable, since the lovers regard the beloved with affection and the beloveds are ashamed to disgrace their lovers; they stand fast together in danger... It was natural, then, that the Band was called "Sacred," as even Plato called the lover a god-inspired friend. It is said the band remained undefeated until the Battle of Chaeronea.
Chaeronea, the great battle between Philip II of Macedon and the Greeks headed by Athens and Thebes, was a watershed in Greek history. It ended Greek independence, as the poleis came under the rather direct hegemony of
Macedon. The institution of the polis itself started to unravel as Greece came to be subsumed into a larger political, and cultural, entity. The Sacred Band was killed off forever, as was the entire institution of hoplite warfare. In place of the amateur, heavily clad, heavily armed soldiers, Philip, and Alexander after him, made increased use of well-trained, light-armed troops, still fighting in phalanx formations. The heavy hoplite shield was replaced with a lighter one; the spears and sword were replaced with the sarissa, a pike ranging from 16 to 24 feet in length, made of wood and balanced by an iron spear tip at one end and an iron butt at the other. As one might imagine, considerable choreography and trained maneuvering were required for the use of this weapon.
Furthermore, especially under Alexander, the fighting was carried much farther afield than in earlier periods. During the Classical period, most battles were relatively close to home. The Spartans could travel up to Attica, burn the fields, fight the battle, and be home again easily within a month. This ceased to be the case when Alexander's troops were fighting along the Kashmir. To be a soldier during this period inherently implied professional/full-time/paid status, insofar as it was functionally impossible to travel with the armies and hold any other type of job. Thus, between the necessary training and the time/ travel commitment, professional armies completely replaced the amateur armies of earlier periods. The flip side of this, of course, was that the average man on the street ceased being a soldier. Put simply, there was a functional demilitarization of day-to-day society. The former farmer-soldier was replaced by the farmer on the farm and the soldier out abroad.
The extensive travel died down some during the Hellenistic period, when armies were linked to empires that had established boundaries. In the Late Classical tradition, these armies were professional, paid, and trained by the government. Such armies could be huge, containing up to 80,000 men (Sage 1996, xxvi). This, of course, put great pressure on the governments to pay so many bodies. Coinage was well in use by this time, which helped. Another common payment was the granting of land allotments based on military service. These allotments were called klerukhies, based on the Greek kleros, or royal lot. The idea was that, in return for fighting for the king, the king would grant a soldier the use of a plot of land technically owned by the crown. So long as the soldier remained in service, he kept the land. This allowed the soldier and his family to live off of their farm produce and to earn money, and it kept them bound to the area and to the king.
At first, this land returned to the crown upon the death of the soldier. A letter from mid-third-century Egypt from Asclepiades to Artemidoros in the Egyptian district of Arsinoe recorded the names of various soldiers who died and, thus, whose klerukhies had to be restored to the royal treasuries (Sage 1996, 222). The trade of being a soldier, however, was often inherited, and a son could pick up the klerukhy of his father upon the latter's death. After a while, the plots came to be seen as being inherited. At first this was only from father to son, but by the first century b. c.e., women were also eligible to inherit klerukhies, pretty much signaling the death knoll of the land-for-military-service system, as women did not serve in the military (Sage 1996, 222).
World History
