Łukasz Różycki
Battlefield Emotions in Late Antiquity: A Study of Fear and Motivation in Roman Military Treatises
(Leiden: Brill, 2021), 333 pp. €145.00/$174.00
One of the toughest challenges involved in writing about medieval warfare is that of describing what battle in that period was like: how it might have felt to be there, including not just the physical sensations but also the psychological and emotional. What would have been running through the combatants’ minds? What gave them the confidence to risk their lives in the fray? What was their motivation that suppressed their primal instinct of running away from danger? Was it for money or fame that they principally fought, in the name of God or one’s king, or (more probably) was it a combination of all of these things? The issue of battlefield emotions, including fear and post-traumatic stress, has been hugely neglected to the point of being considered a ‘taboo’ up to the very end of the twentieth century. And it was in breaking this ‘taboo’ that military historians owe immense gratitude to John Keegan who, in his 1976 classic The Face of Battle, looked at the direct experience of individuals in three major encounters of the last 600 years: Agincourt (1415), Waterloo (1815) and the Somme (1916) at ‘the point of maximum danger’.
Różycki’s stated aim is to follow in the footsteps of Keegan (and others that came after him) and to shed light on the various battlefield emotions of Roman soldiers in Late Antiquity, and the methods employed to harness them. Therefore, he is to be praised for his courage in tackling a topic as complex and as challenging as this, considering both the paucity and the imbalance in the focus (looking at things from the perspective of the ‘military elite’ rather than from the ‘humble’ soldier) of the primary narrative sources for the period in question (fifth to ninth centuries, but focusing on the sixth century). Nonetheless, one needs to consider that Różycki has published extensively on the Roman and Byzantine theory of warfare, showing a particular focus on military treatises of the sixth century.
The book opens with a coherent and extensive ‘Introduction’ which both lays out the intended goals of the work, and the sources the author will be engaging with. While the author rightfully tries to place his work firmly amongst the (both international and Polish) reference works of military history (from Hans Delbrück to John Keegan and Charles Carlton) and, more specifically, of the study of ancient and medieval battlefields (Adrian Goldsworthy, Brian Campbell, and Ross Cowan), one is left wondering why J. F. Verbruggen’s De Krijgskunst in West-Europa in de Middeleeuwen, which includes 3 sub-chapters on ‘The psychology of knights on the battlefield’, ‘Mass flight and panic,’ and ‘Fear in knights facing foot-soldiers’, was relegated to a mere footnote (n. 45). Furthermore, one would also like to read a definition of the ‘New Military History’ or, at least, a detailed footnote – but these are minor lapses.
Nonetheless, Różycki skilfully lays out his ‘battle-plan’ on how to examine his sources, which vary from military treatises to narrative sources and archaeological evidence for the military equipment of Roman soldiers. The author -correctly- acknowledges the literary topoi (Greek: mimesis) that were followed by ancient and medieval authors of manuals and historians who described battle scenes in their narratives, who paraphrased their sources to fit their period and context, and he also puts great emphasis on the link between the education of young officers and the writing of military treatises. However, one should be very cautious in that these manuals served various purposes: first, (and, in my view, foremost) as utilitarian texts (repositories of past knowledge) that commanders used in preparation for campaigns or combat; second, as pedagogical tools for up-and-coming commanders; third, as sources of entertainment and knowledge; fourth, as ‘literary projects’ for political propaganda, either by an emperor or by an up-and-coming individual. [1] Yet, Różycki’s presentation of the sources is sufficient, with exhaustive and up-to-date (international and Polish) bibliographical references.
Chapter 1 takes a short but detailed approach on the Roman attitudes to warfare, going beyond any Late Roman approaches to Christian ethics/ideals or the ius ad bellum (dikaios polemos). What the author wants to explain here is that, as wars happened, the Romans developed a specific mentality when facing their enemies in battle, one which is attested clearly and in detail, not just in the works of contemporary historians and commentators, but also in the numerous military treatises: prevail by any means necessary, fair or unfair, but keep battle as a last resort. Yet, this non-bellicose stance did not imply that the Romans were ‘pacifist’ in any way; the maintenance/restoration of the pax romana could hardly have been achieved by pacifist means considering the Empire’s geopolitical position and political heritage.
In Chapter 2, Różycki considers the different ways that fear could manifest and affect the performance of soldiers in the battlefield, and the many ways a Roman commander could dissuade these fears from his soldiers. These vary from the sociological constructs of the Roman virtus and the Greek ἀρετή that went hand in hand with those of bravery and cowardice in helping dispel the fear of being killed in action, to the issue of spotting any signs of fear in the troops before the battle, for which the general owed to avoid battle altogether, all that while balancing the eagerness of young and inexperienced recruits to give battle with the caution and experience of the veteran troops in handling their emotions. Bonding the troops together was paramount in reinforcing their morale, hence the custom of swearing the Sacramentum militare that bound a legionnaire both to his comrades and to his superiors (the Gods and the emperor) is fascinating considering its modern parallels in many conscript armies today. This esprit de corps was strengthened further by praising the history of the unit in which one belonged to (again, one can find countless examples in modern military history), and the aim was no other than to remind them that they have “big shoes to fill.”
Różycki rightly devotes a good section of this chapter to the ‘perception of the (military) other’ that emerges from the primary sources (histories and military manuals), especially since the authors of the Strategikon and the Taktika dedicated lengthy chapters on this topic, a fact that illustrates their readiness not only to scrutinize and evaluate the tactics and characteristics of their enemies, but also to learn from them. However, literary topoi and cultural stereotypes do creep-into the narrative and, as a consequence of that, these manuals fail to communicate practical or accurate (‘military’) information: the Muslims being ‘susceptible to cold, snow and the downpour of rain’ and the damp slackened their bowstrings, thus they ‘prefer the fair weather and the warmer seasons’ –Leo VI’s views clearly echo Maurice’s comments on the Persians as people who prefer heat and dislike cold and rain.
Różycki also works with Stephen Morillo’s compelling general typology of transcultural warfare for the Middle Ages that, as the author admits, can be applied both to the Strategikon and the Taktika: the ‘settled’ military cultures of the Persians and the Arabs are treated fairly well (intra-cultural warfare), while the culturally alien ‘Scythian and Turkish’ nations are coloured in a very different manner (inter-cultural warfare); the age-old disdain and loathing for the religiously antagonistic Armenians is also a familiar picture (sub-cultural warfare). The author should, in my view, have emphasized a bit more the way these typologies of warfare shaped the relationship with the opponents and the conventions of conflict, especially when it came to surrender and negotiations, and how this aspect would have affected the psychology of the soldiers (whatever we know from the histories and chroniclers is -undoubtedly- sparse, but still…).
Finding ways to suppress the primeval instinct of fear in his soldiers was one thing, using various tricks to enhance the same feeling in the enemy soldiers is another, yet both of them are inextricably linked. Hence, Różycki moves on in Chapter 3 to explain the numerous and diverse stratagems employed by Roman leaders to gain advantage over their enemies through handling/manipulating fear. The author pays attention to the disparate ways of procuring intelligence from the enemy, both via espionage and reconnaissance (the declaration of war being the key moment when we can draw a distinction between them), and how these ‘communications channels’ could be used to Rome’s advantage: wretched prisoners of war could be exhibited to raise morale, some could be presented with a misleading image of the attackers’ state of supplies (and conditions in the camp) and then set free to return to their army to disseminate false information that would saw discord and lower the morale of the enemy, while others could -simply- be maltreated (enslaved or executed) to send a loud message of deterrence. All of the aforementioned cases are treated in great detail, but the author does not refer to another critical phenomenon that would have worried Roman generals, the desertion en masse of different tribal groups to the enemy; in fact, the author of the Strategikon warns that “Men of the same race as the enemy should be sent away long before and should not be brought into battle against their own people” [Strategikon, VII. A. 6; repeated in Leo VI’s Taktika, XIII. 6], and he notes that as a particular characteristic of the ‘Scythians’ who “… are seriously hurt by defections and desertions … If a few begin to desert and are well received, many more will follow.” [Strategikon, XI. 2] Perhaps the most (in)famous example is the desertion of some of the Byzantine army’s Oghuz mercenaries to the Seljuks at Manzikert, in 1071. The number of the deserters is unknown and it is clear that many of their comrades remained loyal after Michael Attaleiates persuaded them to swear oaths to that effect. Even so, doubts now hung over the reliability of these and other Turkish mercenaries, and this is a critical ‘fear’ factor to bear in mind! Another contemporary example comes from the Battle of Kalavrye (1078), for which a recent study argued that Alexios Komnenos actually prompted many of his Turkish mercenary soldiers to ‘defect’ –or, perhaps, simply to get themselves caught– and to provide Nikephoros Bryennios (‘the Elder’) with seemingly trustworthy information about Alexios’ army and its disposition. [2]
Różycki is right to note (alas, just in a footnote) the socio-political and religious aspect of the ‘battle cry’ in different military cultures. As battle-cries fused a direct appeal for divine assistance with the practical and psychological value of a rallying cry, many military cultures developed their own cry; ‘alala’ for the ancient Athenians, ‘Dieux aide’ in the case of the Normans, ‘Mountjoie! St Denis!’ in that of the French. Yet, the Romans understood that a battle cry could undermine battle discipline, therefore the soldiers were discouraged, though not actively prevented, from shouting their war cries before battle. In a reverse psychology motif, marching in unison and in complete silence had every potential to terrorize undisciplined enemies, something that the Romans made full use of.
Chapter 4 evaluates a critical aspect of the history of war, the role of the commander in handling fear and motivating the soldiers before and during battle. The answer to the question, “What makes a good leader?” is neither simple nor universal, yet Różycki offers a thorough assessment of the extraordinary attention paid to the figure of the commander and his qualities, as these are reflected in the ancient and medieval military treatises, in histories and in the Roman military law. Drawing -largely- from Onasander’s General, later military treatises offer their own idealised version of a general, putting the emphasis on aspects of his mind and character like his intelligence and “practical wisdom”, his modesty and morality, his caution and vigilance, but also his boldness and courage when in acute danger. Różycki’s section on the commander’s paramount ability to strike the right balance between the ‘carrot and the stick’ makes a very interesting read. Finally, it is also necessary for a leader to be a good public speaker, to inspire confidence in his troops and raise their morale in adverse times, hence the extensive analysis of this aspect of the leadership trait. It would have been beneficial if the author had explained at the beginning of section 4 the basic types of exhortative speeches (deliberative or exhortative: delivered at a place resembling an assembly place, usually at the military camp; battle exhortation, delivered when drawn up in battle formation or during the battle), so that the reader would have a better understanding of the examples that are used, instead of mentioning the term “pre-battle speeches” for the first time only on p. 209, but this is only a minor flaw.
Because many of the authors of military manuals (Frontinus, Onasander, Vegetius and Maurice’s Strategikon) broke down their works into sections on pre-battle, battle, and post-battle advice, Chapter 5 deservedly focuses on the role of the commander in harnessing the soldiers’ instincts and emotions after the battle seemed to have been decided. There are countless examples in military history when victory slipped from the hands of a general due to miscommunication between units in pursuit of the defeated enemy, looting soldiers, unexpected storms or horses running amok in the battlefield. Considering that the ultimate goal of a general was to inflict a crushing/decisive blow to his enemy, three critical stages that followed the main battle were the pursuit, the encirclement and the despoiling of the enemy – victory could have been lost at any one of these stages if the general lost control of the unfolding events, and not losing control required good order (τάξις φυλάττεται) and discipline (ἄρχεσθαι). Różycki cites many interesting examples of battles lost at the stage of the pursuit of an apparently defeated enemy, coupled with the numerous advice in the military manuals that raise the attention of the reader to this point, while the author also stresses the Roman use of the stratagem of luring the enemy into a disorganised pursuit, exactly because the Roman generals anticipated their dis-orderly enemies (especially the nomads) to behave in this manner. Yet, Różycki should have emphasized (more) that the author of the Strategikon treats the enemies of the empire differently when giving advice to the general on how to proceed with the pursuit and a possible encirclement of an enemy force: “if a force withdrawing before them wants to turn about and attack the front lines of the pursuing Persians, it will suffer injury on running into their well-ordered ranks. For the Persians do not attack in a disorderly fashion as the Scythians do in pursuing, but cautiously and in good order.” [Strategikon, XI. 1]
The author then takes a detailed look at the omnipresent possibility of defeat in the battlefield, and the various advice and tricks offered to a Roman general to avert the complete collapse of the army morale. He correctly puts the emphasis on how critical it was (and still is) for a leader to be able to assess the morale of his men and how deeply they were affected by the outcome of the battle because, as easy it is to boast that “Victory comes from the Heavens”, so does defeat! And it was inevitable for several questions to arise after the defeat of an army, regardless of whether the enemy belonged to the same religion or not: ‘Were we the most just army on the field? If not, why did we undertake the fight? And, if so, why did God allow us to lose?’ Accordingly, it was critical for a military defeat to be rationalized, so that the defeated would not lose royal and/or popular support!
The concluding section neatly sums up the answers to the main questions asked in the introductory section and throughout the book: to what extend were the emotions and primal instincts of the Late Antique Roman soldiers manipulated by their officers? What types of psychological mechanisms were used to achieve that? How detailed are the primary sources (primarily the military manuals and, to a lesser extent, the histories and chroniclers of each period) in answering these questions?
This new monograph brings to the forefront of modern scientific study the issue of battlefield emotions, including fear and post-traumatic stress, a subject that has been hugely neglected up to the very end of the twentieth century. Różycki’s meticulous work is a big step forward on the road to understanding the battlefields of Antiquity, and the men who fought on them, their emotions and their ‘human’ reaction to success, adversity, hardship and defeat. Overall, this is a voluminous, yet very approachable, work with extensive bibliographical references to works in several languages (including Slavic; always the ‘handicap’ of western academics), and despite some minor editorial faults, it is a very welcome contribution in the field which, I hope, will stimulate further discussion in the future.
Georgios Theotokis
Ibn Haldun University, Istanbul
Notes:
[1]- Asclepiodotus, Onasander, and Vegetius have been dismissed as “historically inaccurate” authors of works of entertainment who “glorified historically successful armies … and presented the military maneuvers of these armies as epic subjects for all times”: Nadya Williams, “The blind leading the blind? Civilian writers and audiences of military manuals in the Roman world,” in: Greek and Roman Military Manuals, Genre and History, ed. James T. Chlup and Conor Whately (Routledge: London, 2021) pp. 55-77 [quotes from p. 71]. However, this volume was published about a year after Różycki’s book. See also Conor Whately, “The Genre and Purpose of Military Manuals in Late Antiquity,” in: Shifting genres in late antiquity, ed. by G. Greatrex and H. Elton (Farnham: Ashgate, 2015) pp. 255-61; Georgios Chatzelis, Byzantine Military Manuals as Literary Works and Practical Handbooks, The Case of the Tenth-Century Sylloge Tacticorum (London/New York: Routledge, 2019), pp. 88-94.
[2]- Michael James Gilmer, “The Battle of Kalavrye Revisited,” Byzantina Symmeikta 31 (2021) 153-75.
