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Hannibal's Dynasty

Page 38

by Dexter Hoyos


  just to be the opening stage—was counterproductive. The notion that he

  could land in Italy or Cisalpina with 11,000 troops and tie the Romans in

  knots was frankly nonsense. When he had arrived there in 218 with more

  than twice as many, recruiting locally thousands more, he still had not man-

  aged either to crush them in their homeland or prevent them occupying all of

  Punic Spain and Africa save Carthage itself. Besides, by the mid-190s no part

  of Italy was in any condition or mood to rise up one more time against the

  Romans: yet for an expedition to make any real impact he would have needed

  much more than Cisalpine allies. As for the 100 ships that he had also

  demanded, Antiochus’ whole navy was not much bigger—when war started

  in 192 he could take only that many with him to Greece.6

  With Hannibal also proposing to stop en route at Carthage, the king might

  be forgiven for wondering just where the exile’s priorities lay. Obviously, to

  have the Punic republic on side would be a great advantage: but was it guar-

  anteed that if Hannibal and his friends recovered power, even thanks to

  Seleucid forces, they would back the king after all, rather than keep Carthage

  neutral and prosperous? If a Hannibalic coup sparked dissension in the

  state—as was quite likely—would the general still go on to Italy as promised

  rather than stay in Africa to support his faction? If he stayed home, Anti-

  ochus would have wasted troops, ships and money. When Hannibal in turn

  began having conversations with the Roman envoys during 193, any such

  doubts might well seem justified. He was able to pacify the royal mistrust: but

  his later proposals in winter 192 left out any mention of Carthage.

  In the war, the best the Great King could find for the greatest general of

  the age to do was bizarre: a rôle as naval commodore in the eastern Mediter-

  ranean which in summer 190 earned him and a small Seleucid fleet a

  trouncing by the Rhodians off Side in Pamphylia. With the peace-terms in

  189 calling for him to be surrendered to the Romans, he had to find a new

  refuge.

  Six more years of rootlessness followed. First a stay at Gortyn in Crete

  where (the story goes) he deflected local greed for his portable wealth by

  lodging jars brimming with gold and silver in the temple of Artemis, only for

  the locals to find after his departure that the jars were lead-filled with just a

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  topping of valuables—a properly Hannibalic ruse if true. Next to the court

  of Artaxias king of Armenia, for whom reportedly he founded the city of

  Artaxata; then in service with Prusias king of Bithynia, who like the now-dead

  Antiochus III made use of him in war merely as a naval commander. At least

  Hannibal won his sea-battle this time, in Prusias’ brief war with Eumenes of

  Pergamum, again using a characteristic surprise touch—poisonous snakes in

  clay pots hurled onto the enemy’s decks to sow panic. And according to the

  Elder Pliny at least, he founded a city, Prusa, for his host.

  But Prusias was an unreliable protector. When Roman envoys arrived in

  Bithynia late in 183 or at the start of 182 to insist on peace between the two

  kings, they added Hannibal’s handover to the agenda once more, though it

  may not have been part of their original instructions, and with Prusias’ acqui-

  escence took steps to prevent another flight as they closed in on his country

  house. To escape the indignity of capture—he no doubt recalled Syphax the

  Numidian’s confinement and early death—the elderly exile, now 64, took

  poison. His remains were entombed nearby, the memorial one day to be

  splendidly redone in white marble by another and more successful African

  leader, the emperor Septimius Severus from Lepcis Magna.7

  III

  The rise and fall of the Barcids’ ascendancy at Carthage played itself out

  almost exactly across Hannibal’s own lifetime. More narrowly, he and his

  kinsmen had dominated the affairs of the Carthaginian republic from the

  later stages of the Mercenaries’ War to the last years of the Second Punic and

  then again, as argued earlier, during the middle 190s. It was a dominance

  shorter than that of the Magonids in the sixth and fifth centuries, but much

  more spectacular.

  Punic politics, as argued earlier too, remained relatively competitive after

  195 if still largely aristocratic, and the one-time Barcid group—or a similar

  one—continued to play a part. But no Barcids were associated with it, and no

  appeal was made to Barcid or Hannibalic memories even in Carthage’s death-

  struggle with the old enemy 40 years later. If Hannibal and Imilce did have a

  son he did not live, or else he lived a thoroughly obscure life. Ironically, last-

  ing fame and even respect sprang from those same enemies and their Greek

  friends: starting with Scipio’s admiration for Hannibal, Cato’s commendation

  of Hamilcar and Polybius’ broad treatment of all three Barcid leaders.

  The Barcid ascendancy had rescued the city and the republic in their black-

  est hour, created a land empire to rival or outdo the Romans’, and raised

  Carthaginian fortunes to their zenith by bringing much of Italy under Barcid

  dominance and recovering most of Barcid Spain from its invaders. Then

  Roman resilience and Barcid mistakes brought the overstretched structure

  down. The day after peace was sworn in 201 found the republic in much the

  same condition as the day after Hippou Acra and Utica had surrendered in

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  237: all overseas territories lost, the homeland a smoking ruin, trade shattered

  and the treasury drained. That brought one more Barcid service, Hannibal’s

  sufeteship, which revitalized public life and restored public resources—and

  with them public confidence—enough for the effects to endure practically to

  the end of the city’s existence.

  These feats were not due simply to three men’s genius. On all the evidence,

  Carthaginian society had a vigour and resourcefulness matched by no con-

  temporary republic save Rome, and by few if any of the monarchies. The

  Carthaginians’ dogged resistance in the Mercenaries’ War, their ability to

  supply settlers and other personnel for the conquests in Spain, the forces—

  glorious and inglorious—they put into the field and sent to sea during the

  Second Punic War, and their economic recovery after 201 and especially 196,

  all testify to the mettle of the people the Barcids led.

  A great deal was surely owed to the unrecorded and unsung kinsmen and

  friends of Hamilcar, Hasdrubal and Hannibal who in practice operated the

  Barcid ascendancy at Carthage. The Barcid generalissimos were largely

  absentee leaders—present in Africa only between 241 and 237, around 228

  and after 203 respectively. It was their men at Carthage who kept senate and

  people supportive, effectively handled the not always predictable tribunal of

  One Hundred and Four, no doubt filled public offices from year to year, and

  won over or neutralized potentially powerful rival interests like the group

  around Hasdrubal son of Gisco and the seemingly indestruct
ible (if at times

  minute) faction of Hanno the Great. Without them the generals could not

  have maintained the dominance of affairs and policies that even Hannibal

  enjoyed until the last two or three years of his war, and it must have been with

  them—those who survived and had stayed loyal—that he staged his come-

  back in 196.

  The Barcid ascendancy was an unusual phenomenon for a Hellenistic-era

  republic. The Romans did have a largely aristocratic system of politics but

  one more open and chequered, with no Roman family or coterie of friends

  able to dominate it for decades and largely exclude opponents from policy-

  making. Similar politics prevailed (so far as we know) in republics like

  Rhodes, Tarentum and Athens. In some others an open and fractious public

  life suffered transformation into monarchy virtual or real—notably Syracuse

  in the fourth and third centuries, where long periods of autocracy were

  merely punctuated by spasms of democracy.

  At Carthage, a virtual power-monopoly was maintained through popular

  support and popular politics. It was not a virtual autocracy for, with every

  Barcid leader overseas, his supremacy at home rested on collaborators, whose

  support he could not automatically compel and whose own initiatives he

  (sometimes at least) had to follow. Moreover opposition to the ascendancy

  endured and found voices; nor is there any trace of prosecutions, show trials

  or violence against anti-Barcid Carthaginians. When popular support and

  popular political methods faded, the Barcid ascendancy was replaced by a

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  power-oligopoly, but returned briefly in 196–195 and then left behind as a

  legacy (even if one not wholly intended by Hannibal) an energetic political

  life something like the Roman, which lasted till the city’s final crisis. It was an

  extra irony that in time Roman politics would evolve in the opposite direc-

  tion—from more and more fractious competitiveness into dictatorship and

  then an all-encompassing monarchy. Julius Caesar’s career path would reverse

  Hannibal’s.

  IV

  At times the Barcids, and Hannibal in particular, have been seen as standard-

  bearers of Hellenistic civilization (or a form of it) pitted against the alien

  advance of Rome; or, a little less epically, as protagonists of a multicultural

  Mediterranean confronting the levelling impetus of Roman imperialism. That

  any of them took such a view of themselves or found it taken by contem-

  poraries is unlikely. Third-century Carthage had certainly adopted elements of

  Hellenistic civilization—notably urbanistic, architectural and military—but

  these no more transformed the Carthaginians into a Hellenized community

  than much bigger borrowings transformed the Romans 100 years later.

  Again, the Barcids were all notable city-founders, from Acra Leuce to Prusa,

  but no citizen of an ancient Phoenician colony would view city-founding as a

  Greek-inspired activity. And while Hannibal knew Greek thanks to Sosylus

  and wrote some books in the language, he hardly needed lectures from his

  friend on Cleomenes III of Sparta’s recent and divisive reforms to prompt his

  own (far more limited) measures in 196.8

  The overwhelming likelihood is that the Barcids saw themselves as the

  defenders and promoters of their own state’s safety and power, and subordi-

  nated everything else to this. Certainly too they saw themselves as the

  Carthaginians best-qualified for defending the city’s safety and promoting its

  power and prosperity—they would hardly have been useful leaders other-

  wise.

  This is not to claim that their policies were all well judged, still less always

  the best. Was expansion into Spain a better long-term move than expanding

  within North Africa? Numidia had potential, as Masinissa afterwards was to

  show. Was focussing on a military establishment by land the most rational use

  of resources? Carthage’s history, economy and location—including the

  strategic vulnerability of Punic Africa—arguably made strong naval forces

  just as vital (and the Barcids had the lessons of the previous Punic war to

  remind them). Was confronting the Romans over Saguntum a sound reaction

  to their embassy of 220, when restraint might have avoided war or, at least,

  might have forced the other side into more overtly aggressive moves that

  could have given the Carthaginians the moral high ground—and conceivably

  some military and diplomatic advantage as well?

  Not all of Hannibal’s military decisions look the best either. Could he have

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  executed the march to Italy more efficiently so as to reach Cisalpine Gaul less

  late in the year and with something like the 50,000-plus troops who had fol-

  lowed him across the Pyrenees, or at any rate the 46,000 he had led over the

  Rhône? It would have made an incalculable impact on the war. Was it an

  effective long-term strategy not to follow Cannae with a march on Rome?

  And indeed was it defensible to invade Italy at all with no alternative offen-

  sive strategy to fall back on if the Romans failed to be cowed by two or three

  defeats—any more than they had been cowed by both defeats and natural

  disasters in the earlier war?

  The lack of some alternative offensive strategy condemned his expedition

  to operating stagnantly in southern Italy while hoping for some new event or

  arrival to revitalise its efforts. Co-operation with Macedon and then Syracuse

  flopped: instead of achieving a concentration of fresh forces against the

  enemy, Hannibal managed to disperse not only Roman military efforts (a

  strategic plus) but likewise Carthaginian. When a new opportunity did

  occur—after the destruction of the brothers Scipio in Spain in 211, then in

  207 on Hasdrubal’s advance across the Alps with a fresh army—the Punic

  strategic response was pathetic.

  Conceivably too Hannibal could have done more to shore up Barcid for-

  tunes at Carthage, at any rate in the second half of the war when they began

  to fail. While the war went well the Barcid ascendancy was self-sustaining, but

  it was unwise to expect that to continue once a practical stalemate descended

  on operations, and plain folly to expect it after Punic and Barcid fortunes

  started to slide. From 218 if not earlier (we do not know when Hannibal’s

  brothers went to Spain) until 201 the only Barcid brother to set foot in

  Carthage was Mago in autumn and winter 216–215, and his purpose was mil-

  itary. No doubt relatives as well as close family friends worked hard politically,

  as mentioned earlier, but with the tide turning it would have been politic for

  brother Hasdrubal, for instance, to pay a visit home to shore up allegiances,

  inspect the workings of administration and organize fresh forces. In the slow

  years after 211, in an off-campaign season, Hannibal himself might have

  risked it. In either case it might have revitalized both the Barcid group at

  home and the war-effort.9

  Hannibal’s taking the home front for granted was to be expected, for in

  contrast to his father and brother-in-law he had
virtually no experience of

  Carthaginian political life before 201. Maintaining the Barcid ascendancy at

  home was, in effect, done for him. His political business managers at

  Carthage, unsung and unremembered, must have been both skilled and

  devoted—and probably he took all that for granted. What they might have

  achieved for Barcid interests, had the Barcid warriors during the war kept

  closer personal contact with their home city, can only be guessed.

  This enduring detachment from home politics was one more mistake—

  and a serious one—of Hannibal’s leadership. Of course he might argue that

  every general, even the greatest, makes mistakes. But few great generals have

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  been at the same time the political leaders of their states: and of those few,

  none detached himself so completely from the ongoing business of politics

  and government at home. Since war and victories were his trademark, mili-

  tary defeat meant the end of his and his family’s political mastery. Yet the

  continuing vigour of Barcid political interests after 201 surely testifies not

  just to the self-centred ineptitude of those who supplanted him, but also to

  the strength of the relationships built up over 30 years of success and—not

  least—to the charismatic appeal of Hannibal’s own personality.

  V

  The Romans found it hard to decide about him. He was both a fearsome

  enemy, more fearsome than Pyrrhus or later on Mithridates of Pontus, and at

  the same time a figure with qualities worth admiring—in his energy, resource-

  fulness, leadership and devotion to his country practically a Roman manqué.

  Scipio Africanus opposed intervening against him in 195 and their supposed

  friendly meeting at Ephesus a couple of years later, even if invented, shows

  that the Roman hero was not remembered as a Hannibal-hater. Cato, who

  respected Hannibal’s father and disliked Scipio, possibly saw some good

  points in Scipio’s opponent too even if he judged the attack on Saguntum a

  breach of treaty.10

  The non-Roman Polybius not only sought to be objective about the Bar-

  cids (and saw virtues in all of them) but even registers the opinion that

  Hannibal was justified to fight in 218. Of course he states this obliquely—his

  work was aimed at Roman as well as Greek readers—and he later qualifies it

 

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