During their conquest of Italy and the Mediterranean, Roman citizen-soldiers seem not to have used their military muscle significantly to change the political structure of the Republic. Changes eventually came about for other reasons, largely through the political rivalry of upper-class factions,
Though in the end the fall of the Republic was encompassed by soldiers in the pay of ambitious military leaders.3 In this process the army effectively ceased to be the army of the Roman state as soldiers were absorbed into the forces of individual military dynasts, to whom they swore oaths of personal loyalty and obedience. In the 80s bc, and in the war between Caesar and Pompey, the influence of the troops had been largely passive, in that the situation developed according to their willingness to follow or abandon certain leaders. After the murder of Caesar they sometimes played a more active role, forcing the leaders to take action that they could not themselves have initiated. Thus Caesar’s veterans were keen not only that Caesar should be avenged but also that their rights to land distributions be upheld, and therefore they wanted Antony and Octavian to stand together against Caesar’s murderers. But they had no fine political principles or ideas on the future government of Rome; they were motivated by individual loyalties and the expectation of personal profit. Similarly, the soldiers who fought for Brutus and Cassius were not driven on by Republican principles. They were more influenced by greed for land and booty, and were swayed by powerful personalities in the leadership. After the battle of Philippi, the victorious armies hoped for peace, not for political reasons but so that they could enjoy the fruits of victory.4 The soldiers did not prevail, and when, after more civil conflict, Augustus emerged in 31 bc as supreme leader, he was in the tradition of the great military dynasts of the previous twenty years, who won the loyalty of their soldiers by promises of enrichment, and then went on to organize the political world to suit them without consulting their army.
Augustus’ victory nevertheless confirmed the political dimension of the Roman army. He was in control of the empire because of the support of his legions, and those legions did exercise political power in so far as he would fall if they deserted him. But in real terms the situation was not so clear-cut. In the late Republic the Roman army had not been a single entity, and became even less so after Augustus’victory. It was instead divided into several armies based in many different locations as far apart as Spain and Syria. The soldiers did not speak with one voice, since armies in different provinces, or even different legions, had their own views and there was often intense rivalry between units. Therefore activists would find it difficult to concert action for political objectives. There was no direct channel of communication from the army to the emperor that could change the mechanisms of government or fundamentally reshape the nature of the Roman state. There was no army council, or even an informal group of senior officers, and there were no ex-officio army representatives to badger the emperor. Furthermore, the army was a professional force with set pay and conditions, and not a casual levy; and, since the legions and auxiliaries were based outside Italy for twenty-five years, they were separated from the political life of Rome and any previous familial or political ties. Indeed, the soldiers were virtually the emperor’s employees, and because recruits came increasingly from outside Italy he was unlikely to face hostile political opinion in the homeland because of public concern about casualties and military setbacks.
In fact Augustus had no intention of using the army to support him politically by voting for his proposals. Many soldiers recruited during the civil wars were not even Roman citizens, and Augustus brought many noncitizens into the formal structure of the army as auxiliaries. In any case, few soldiers would be in a position to vote in the people’s assembly, and such votes would count for little in the new political set-up. Augustus based only the praetorians in Italy, and there were only three cohorts on duty in Rome. Upper-class senators commuting from their estates to Rome and attending meetings of the senate will not have noticed much difference around the streets and buildings of the city. It was not until the end of the second century ad that a legion was permanently stationed in Italy.
In terms of the political changes that Augustus introduced, when Dio describes the constitutional arrangements of 27 bc and later, he does not suggest that Augustus thought of consulting the army, much less that he took account of any views expressed by the soldiers. He decided what he wanted to do with the help of his chief henchmen and high-ranking advisers, although taking care to have proposals discussed and approved by the senate. Of the powers and attributes granted to Augustus, only proconsular imperium implied military command. In the provinces within the sphere of his imperium, which contained most of the legionary troops, he appointed the governors personally; in the remainder the governor was technically appointed by the senate. Augustus was granted greater proconsular power (proconsulare imperium maius) in 23 bc, which enabled him formally to give orders to any governor in the empire. By the end of his reign there was only one province containing legionary troops (Africa, with legion III Augusta) to which the senate appointed the governor. When Gaius shifted command of this legion to his separate appointee, the emperor was in practice commander-in-chief of the whole army.
From the start of the imperial period the army’s role in political life, though potentially important, was entirely extra-constitutional. This emerges most clearly in Dio’s comments on the formation of the praetorian guard in 27 bc: ‘His [Augustus’] first action was to have a decree passed granting to the members of his future bodyguard twice the rate of pay of the rest of the army, to ensure that he was strictly guarded. So it was perfectly clear that he intended to establish a monarchy.’5 Dio sarcastically places this after his account of how Augustus allegedly offered to return the administration of affairs to the senate and people. In fact Augustus astutely organized all political matters as he wanted. He was polite to the senate, appeared to consult them, respected the traditional prerogatives of the Roman people, and kept the soldiers at arm’s length. As the bringer of peace and order after the chaos of civil war, Augustus could not be seen to be at the mercy of his troops. Famously, he declined to call the troops ‘comrades’ after the civil wars were over, because the term was ‘too flattering for the demands of military discipline, the peaceful nature of the times, and his own majesty and that of his house’.6
Augustus’ apparent deference to traditional practices, and his careful and piecemeal acquisition of powers, contributed to the lack of a clear constitutional framework for the emperor’s position. Eventually, according to the jurist Ulpian, the source of the emperor’s power was formally defined as a law passed by the people.7 The formal vote of the people would be taken on the recommendation of the senate, and it is true that a new emperor normally sought acceptance and recognition by the senate as soon as he could. Of course, the senate retained a considerable mystique, and it was probably always important for an emperor to make a show of approaching it, for the senate and the people, so it seemed, represented a significant body of opinion. Therefore, as he left to fight Vitellius, Otho invoked ‘the majesty of Rome and the approval of people and senate’.8 Now, although the senate had an important political role to play, it had no right to confer the imperial powers because it had no power to initiate such a move or to reject a man who had gained the backing of a sufficiently large number of soldiers.
Naturally the acclamation and obvious support of the soldiers was of great practical importance in persuading the upper classes and army commanders in the provinces, who might at the outset doubt the new emperor’s capacity to rule and his ability to obtain the full backing of the troops. We see this in Tacitus’ description of the accession of Nero: ‘Nero was brought into the praetorian camp, and when he had said a few suitable words and offered a donative on the scale of his father’s generosity, he was hailed as imperator. The decree of the senate followed the decision of the soldiers, and there was no hesitation in the provinces.’9 The practical, extra-constitutional power of the army was sometimes embarrassingly obvious. Vespasian was acclaimed emperor by his troops in the east on 1 July ad 69, but his powers were not formally voted by the senate until six months later, in late December 69, and he took 1 July as his dies imperii, the formal inauguration of his reign.10 In the third century ad, Dio was still concerned enough to complain that Macrinus had assumed the imperial titles before the senate had voted them, but his words reveal the true situation, since he says merely that it was ‘fitting’ for the senate to play this role. Macrinus’ letter to the senate indicates the realities of power politics: ‘I was well aware that you agreed with the soldiers, since I knew that I had benefited the state in many ways.’11
Augustus had prepared the way for a politicized army which his successors inherited. Yet, despite their importance as potential imperial power-brokers, the soldiers seem to have shown little sign of political awareness. It is certainly not true even in the third century ad that they set out to protect their own social class, namely the rural peasantry from whom most soldiers were recruited.12 Apart from the fact that much of the injustice suffered by poor civilians was inflicted by soldiers, the troops’ loyalty was to their own unit, just as loyalties in the ancient world were in the main local and parochial, and not based on large groups or classes. In fact soldiers with no firm political opinions of their own were ideal supporters of the emperor. They had little motivation to change a political system that secured regular pay and rewarded them when their military service was over. In any case the most they could achieve by revolt, even if their leaders were from the upper classes, was to bring about a change in emperor. The one common view among soldiers was probably that the emperor should be competent to maintain his rule and consequently their benefits, be strong enough to avoid civil war with other Roman legionaries, and possibly provide opportunities for plunder.13 To this end they might be influenced by a prospective emperor’s family connections (e. g. relationship to the family of the previous emperor), and his record and attributes, in so far as these could be made known.
But the soldiers’ interest in an emperor’s attributes did not extend to his moral qualities, his style of government, or the diligence and effectiveness of his administration. Nero ruled for fourteen years, as untroubled by military discontent as the respected Antoninus Pius. The praetorians were slow to desert and needed to be prompted by prominent men.14 Despite widespread revulsion among the senatorial class at the excesses of Commodus, and his lack of interest in military affairs, he ruled for twelve years. It is true that Herodian claims that the emperor Macrinus (ad 217-18) offended the troops by his effeminate habits while on campaign in the east.15 Doubtless soldiers would not want to see an emperor living luxuriously while they faced the hardships of life on campaign, but it is clear that they turned against Macrinus because he threatened to reduce their pay and benefits. And they were happy to support the usurper Elagabalus, who by all accounts dressed and behaved in a bizarre fashion.16 When, in a rare concerted move, the praetorians forced Nerva to execute the murderers of Domitian, they were not making a disinterested intervention for justice and equity but were reaffirming their rights and privileges, perhaps threatened by the change of emperor.17
Roman soldiers had no particular affection for the traditions of the upper classes, or loyalty to the Roman state or to any imperial ideal. The entire basis of the army’s position in the state was a personal relationship with the emperor. When in January ad 69 the legions in Upper Germany abandoned their allegiance to the emperor Galba and eventually swore loyalty to ‘senate and people’, this was not a recognition of higher political loyalties, but rather an attempt to cover their real intentions, namely support for Vitellius in his bid for power.18 It was certainly true that in 193 the way in which Didius Julianus was proclaimed emperor made him an object of derision in Rome and provoked two senators in provincial commands to make their own bid for the purple,19 but the soldiers who supported Septimius Severus hardly shared whatever concern he may have felt at the way in which Julianus had seized power or the way in which he was conducting his government, however much Severan propaganda may have alleged this. They were doubtless won over by the promise of money and other rewards if Severus won.
When soldiers intervened directly with an emperor, they were usually trying to win concessions for themselves or increase their benefits. It is possible that they would have more leverage in time of war or political turmoil. Such isolated examples, arising from particular circumstances, are not necessarily politically significant. They are important, however, because they show that the emperor from his position as commander-in-chief could not entirely distance himself from the demands of the soldiery. The notorious mutinies of ad 14 brought military activity on the Rhine and Danube to a stop and seriously embarrassed the new emperor, Tiberius. The troops objected to low pay, poor conditions and over-long service. They were also worried about their future after the death of Augustus, so closely did they associate their military career with him. Under Claudius the soldiers stationed in Germany wrote secretly to the emperor in the name of all the armies protesting about the hard work they were subjected to by commanders who tried to win imperial approval by engaging in building or mining projects.20 This is apparently a very rare example of concerted action, though it is not clear how the soldiers in various armies communicated with one another or conveyed their letters to Claudius. Similarly, we hear from Josephus that the soldiers of several auxiliary units in Judaea, who objected to being transferred, sent a deputation to Claudius and won their case.21 Commodus politely received a large group of legionary soldiers who had travelled from Britain to Rome to complain about the conduct of his powerful praetorian prefect Perennis.22 It was of course also possible for an individual soldier to use his right to petition the emperor directly (a right theoretically enjoyed by all citizens) to support his interests or those of his friends. Thus the petition of the peasants at Scaptopara who were aggrieved at the oppressive conduct of soldiers and other officials was presented by a soldier in the praetorian guard who was a landowner there, and who presumably, owing to his position, had an excellent chance to deliver the petition.23 In ad 193, just after Septimius Severus had occupied Rome and was about to set out against his rival for the purple, Pescennius Niger, his troops burst into the senate demanding a donative equal to that given by Octavian in 43 bc.24 Severus managed to placate them by paying a token sum, but this episode raises the question of the enhanced role of the army in civil wars and disputed accessions.25 The common factor in all the examples discussed above and in other minor mutinies and disturbances is a complaint about immediate problems or the conduct of individuals. They were not directed against the system of imperial government. This kind of military intervention cannot be seen as significant in social or political terms.
In an army that could hold the balance of political power but lacked real political awareness, it was important for emperors to build up an ideal relationship of loyalty and affection, so as to make it difficult for rebels to win the soldiers over to their side. Thus soldiers swore an oath of personal loyalty and obedience to their emperor, who would address his men as ‘comrades’ {commiUtones), sometimes in terms of great affection, as when Trajan in official instructions to his governors referred to ‘my excellent and most loyal comrades’.26 On campaigns emperors at least made a show of behaving as true feUow-soldiers, wearing military uniform and sharing the privations of their men. In their nomenclature and titles they boasted of their military attributes, they received acts of veneration on numerous occasions scrupulously set out in the military calendar, and they maintained their personal responsibility for the soldiers’ pay, decorations and other ben-efits. Whole legions were sometimes granted special honorific titles for conspicuous service and loyalty: for example, the two legions {VII and XI) that remained loyal to Claudius during the abortive revolt of the governor of Dalmatia in ad 42 were named ‘Claudian Loyal True’ {Claudia Pia Fidelis).27
Association with the troops encouraged emperors to take more interest in military affairs and to assume personal command of campaigns.28 This translated easily into the use of warfare for political ends. Emperors could of course exploit the trappings of war and military leadership by clever manipulation and self-presentation, however limited their achievements were in practice.29 But real war often offered a direct way to enhanced status, wealth, and even an increase in centralized imperial authority, since the administrative structure followed the emperor out of Rome. An emperor therefore could become a ‘military entrepreneur’ in that he might gamble that the political benefits of a successful war would outweigh any risks.30 Thus he might be driven to provoke war and exploit the blood and effort of his soldiers in order to boost his own political standing in Rome. Since he controlled foreign policy he was answerable to no one if he decided to launch an offensive.31 Indeed, Augustus had cynically exploited his large army by using it to conquer lands whose annexation he then celebrated by word and deed, helping to establish his legitimacy and standing as princeps. Claudius also realized that military conquest was a way of quickly placing himself beyond all competition and criticism. The annexation of Britain was skilfully exploited to emphasize his personal role.32 Septimius Severus fought two bloody civil wars in 193 to 197, but the campaigns were mostly under the command of others, and he was present at only one of the battles that decided his fate. His skills in generalship were questionable, and he was certainly not one of the empire’s great commanders. Once secure in power, he looked for a legitimate military target to distract attention from the thousands of Roman soldiers killed in the cause of his personal ambition, to enhance his own military credentials and to confirm political loyalty. Severus’ successful war against the Parthians and the creation of the new province of Mesopotamia splendidly served this purpose.33
World History
