A book such as Greek and Roman military history (GRMH) presents the reviewer with formidable tasks. It is large for a single volume and its encyclopedic format poses difficulties.[1] It is also intimidating to risk incurring the odium philologicum not of one or two, but of 85 authors. This risk is compounded by the fact that scholarship on ancient military history is notoriously combative.
Nonetheless a challenging question has to be posed, with an attempt at an answer at the review’s conclusion. In an age of vast, multiform free online resources, and now generative AI, is there still room for an extremely expensive physical edition of a historical encyclopedia of entries curated by field experts? The status of the online edition is inscrutable: one has been promised, but does not seem to have materialized as of this writing.
Another question arises, this regarding the book’s potential audience. After the World Wars in Europe, and after the Vietnam War in the U.S., military history became a pariah within the academy, perceived as a fringe pursuit suitable only to those seeking to glorify war. Yet the general public rightly understand that war is a main driver of history. The diminution of professional military history has often left the study of traditional topics to amateurs in the true sense, modern antiquarians. Such readers are curious, often fanatic, about arcane details of militaria. Will GRMH satisfy enthusiasts interested in the chopping capabilities of Greek sabers, the physical properties of Roman shields, or the killing range of slings?
A brief overview of the volume’s august lineage is germane to potential readerships: the editors explain repeatedly that one should refer to Brill’s New Pauly for more extensive or differing treatments of given topics. GRMH is part of the second set (volumes 7–12) of the Brill’s New Pauly Supplement series, which aims to expand on and complement the 26-volume Der neue Pauly (1996–2012). Der neue Pauly is itself a revised and abridged version the monumental 83-volume edition of “Pauly-Wissowa” (Paulys Real-Encyclopädie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft: neue Bearbeitung), published between 1894 and 1980. Pauly-Wissowa was a tour de force of German-language scholarship in Altertumswissenschaft, the study of the classical world in its totality, first envisioned by Friedrich August Wolf at Halle (1783–1807).
GRMH was unquestionably a complex and thoughtful undertaking, and the editors should be praised for attempting it. It comprises 108 entries in one volume. No doubt the challenges of wrangling the book’s many authors were great. No doubt too that those challenges were multiplied by the fact that GRMH is a translation of a German original into English.[2] The original itself consisted of articles written not only in German, but also in English, French, and Italian.
Spatially GRMH is confined to the lands encompassed by classical Greco-Roman antiquity. The editors promise in the Introduction that where applicable authors will treat, for example, Persians, Carthaginians, and Germanic tribes, but this is not necessarily so in practice. Yet some authors have evidently chafed under these geographical constraints: the entry “Chariot” by Alfred Michael Hirt correctly insists on taking seriously Near Eastern and Egyptian contexts. The chronological span is also at times limiting: it runs from the “Homeric-Archaic period” of the eighth-seventh centuries B.C. through late antiquity, defined here as the fourth-fifth centuries A.D..
In their Introduction, the editors say of the stylistic and substantive differences between entries that they have consciously avoided harmonizing differences in opinion, interpretation, and theoretical approaches to avoid creating “what would be an artificial unité de doctrine” (p. xii). Perhaps, but a unité de forme among the entries would have helped the reader access them more easily. Often, but by no means always, a given entry has been divided into a “Greek” (or “Greece”) and a “Roman” (or “Rome”) section, with or without subsections and with or without an introduction. But sometimes the Greek section is awkwardly left for other articles, as with “Medical corps” where the reader is instructed: “For Greek medical corps, see → Specialists, A. Greek” (p. 267). Other times, by contrast, there is no explanation, as with “Honours” (by Werner Eck), which entirely lacks a Greek section. This sometimes makes it hard for readers to find what they are looking for.
It is worth noting that there is also considerable overlap with other encyclopedias of ancient warfare. Here the three-volume Encyclopedia of Ancient Battles (2017)[3] and three-volume The Encyclopedia of the Roman Army (2015)[4] may be cited, to list just a couple of recent examples.
Some GRMH entries admirably share the hardcore philological-historical élan that characterized Pauly-Wissowa. In these entries close readings of ancient texts in all their historical contexts render fascinating and important results. A good example is “Innovation” by Helmuth Schneider. Here we learn, for example, that clear precepts (perpetua praecepta), rooted in the collective experience and expertise of Roman commanders during the relentless warfare of the early and middle Republic resulted in a Roman military leadership that no longer depended on a particular general’s abilities. More penetrating insights follow. After Augustus, Rome’s wars stopped aiming at territorial expansion and turned rather to repelling incursions or invasions by foreign peoples: the whole purpose was no longer to defeat enemies in set-piece field battles but “to prevent invasion in the first place” (p. 240). Ancient historians may know all of this in whole or in part, but here it is expressed with the utmost clarity and in portable form. And there are other superb articles: “Enemies” by Alexander Demandt, “Fleet” by Raimund Schulz, “Legion” by Michael A. Speidel and “Slavery” by Josef Fischer stand out, to name only a few.
There are some notable formal deficiencies within the volume. Illustrations and Tables are relatively few (54 in toto) and of varying quality. Astonishingly, there are only six maps. This lack is all the more surprising since Brill’s series on the ancient world are replete with excellent maps, a chief advantage over Wikipedia and related compilations. And if there is a subject in ancient history where topography reigns supreme, and where augmentation with maps is therefore indispensable, it is surely military history. Where a hopeful reader might expect new battlefield maps to rival or surpass Johannes Kromayer’s venerable but now outdated Antike Schlachtfelder there is virtually nothing.[5]
At times, certain distracting editing mistakes flaw the presentation, a problem that is perhaps bound up with the translation of the volume from its original languages. This reviewer found 25 typos before he stopped counting at p. 250. He discovered only one factual error. “Garrisons A. Greek” by Wolfgang Schuller states that Acrocorinth, Munichia (Piraeus), and Euboean Chalcis were the “leg irons of Greece.” Not only does the passage cited to support this contention (Plutarch, Aratos 16.5) say nothing about Munichia, it was and is well known that the Three Fetters were in fact Acrocorinth, Demetrias, and Chalkis (locus classicus: Polybius 18.11, cf. Livy 32.37).
What about grist for the enthusiasts, like military hardware and tactics? Nicholas Sekunda’s entry “Armament A. Greek” is rich as far as it goes, but unfortunately it is only two pages, and in a larger work each of its subsections (“Attack weapons”; “Protective armour”; “Lightly armed infantry”; “Macedonia and the Hellenistic kingdoms”) might have garnered an individual entry. Confusingly, a reader interested in Greek military equipment has to consider overlapping treatments in: “Army A. Greek” (Gregory A. Viggiano—however excluding the Hellenistic Period, which is presented in the same main article but under a separate heading and by another author); “Armament A. Greek”; “Equipment A. Greek (again by Sekunda); and finally “Phalanx” by Kurt A. Raaflaub. The absence of a separate entry on tactics was, moreover, a strategic error.
Throughout, the main culprit is space, despite the volume’s length. Really to have succeeded this Supplement would have been nearly as large as Der neue Pauly itself. Warfare, along with religion, cut through every aspect of ancient life. The sources, while still deplorably thin compared with modern history, are accordingly rich for ancient warfare: the historians, papyri, coins, military diplomas, inscriptions, representations, the plastic arts, and monumental architecture, for example, provide evidence for the subject that is unmatched in ancient history. A thoroughgoing reckoning with this abundance would have to be at least a multivolume project.
In conclusion, the book is a sum less than the whole of its valuable parts. It should be stressed that, in my opinion, the deficiencies of the book lie largely with the plan of the series rather than with the editors or the individual authors. There is much here that is excellent.
Notes
[1] It is in fact an encyclopedia, though someone reading the English title would not know this.
[2] The German original is Burckhardt, L. and M. Speidel (eds.). 2022. Militärgeschichte der griechisch-römischen Antike: Lexikon (=Der Neue Pauly Supplemente 12). Stuttgart/Weimar.
[3] Whitby, M. and H. Sidebottom (eds.). 2017. Encyclopedia of Ancient Battles i–iii. Malden, MA/Oxford.
[4] Le Bohec, Y. (general ed.). 2015. The Encyclopedia of the Roman Army i–iii. Malden, MA/Oxford.
[5] Kromayer, J. (with G. Veith in vol. iii). 1903–1931. Antike Schlachtfelder i–iv. Berlin.