The Roman Revolution

by Ronald Syme

The Roman Revolution is a profound and unconventional treatment of a great theme - the fall of the Republic and the decline of freedom in Rome between 60 BC and AD 14, and the rise to power of the greatest of the Roman Emperors, Augustus. The transformation of state and society, the violent transference of power and property, and the establishment of Augustus' rule are presented in an unconventional narrative, which quotes from ancient evidence, refers seldomly to modern authorities, and states controversial opinions quite openly. The result is a book which is both fresh and compelling.

Genres: History, Nonfiction, Ancient History, Roman History, Classics, Politics, Ancient

579 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1939

About the author

Sir Ronald Syme, OM, FBA (11 March 1903 – 4 September 1989) was a New Zealand-born historian and classicist. Long associated with Oxford University, he is widely regarded as the 20th century's greatest historian of ancient Rome. His great work was The Roman Revolution (1939), a masterly and controversial analysis of Roman political life in the period following the assassination of Julius Caesar.

Reviews

[Jan-Maat]

General non-introduction
I will begin this review with a warning, a little while ago someone informed me that they had their reading experience of a book spoiled by one of my reviews because they felt I had revealed information about the ending, about which comment much can be said and it is unkind of me to be making a little fun of of their compliant in this way, but just in case if you are still on tenterhooks and waiting for news of the outcome of Actium, or do not want to know precisely which iconic part of the male anatomy that Octavian(Augustus) was invited to suckle upon or indeed was said to be a suckler of not that I will be revealing that because it would be lewd which certainly won't prevent me from alluding to it several times because it amuses me greatly, although as I hope to reveal, entirely it was fair political comment, or indeed if you don't want to know yet what Julius Caesar did after he finished conquering Gaul apart of course for one village then please read no further...

Digressive demi-introduction with autobiographical asides and Playmobil
I recently read Joachim Radkau's biography of Max Weber: Des Leidenschaft des Denkens in which Weber's opinion was cited that political power is always exercised through oligarchies, my guilty pre-reading of Syme made it clear that Syme's The Roman Revolution was a natural and proper desert after Max Weber, which now by a slightly more convoluted path Syme now gives way to And Quiet Flows the Don (And Quiet Flows the Don #1) . Anyway I recently received an email indicating that Playmobil are tapping into my consciousness this is commercially unwise of them I feel as they attempted to seduce me into the perfect accompaniment to Syme - read the book and play out the action, refight or even fight, if one is feeling catty Actium in the bath, does though Cleopatra come with attachable Asp I wonder pity they did Caesar without his famous comb forward ? One ought not play too much attention to email, maybe, particularly since I received another one telling me that a grow your own oyster mushroom kit is the perfect Valentine's day present, I feel that one ought satisfy oneself that your heart's delight is sufficiently keen on mushrooms first though before sending her or him or them a mass of manure covered in mushroom spoors through the post what indeed says true love more than manure, for in that rich and dirty stuff any seed will germinate and grow well into a mighty tree of affection upon whose branches birds sweetly sing, this I knew without the help of Ovid of whom more below. Syme's The Roman Revolution had been on my mental mind map for a long time and coming up the track towards it I felt a curious relief and satisfaction like a long distance runner turning a corner and finding them-self on a familiar stretch of the course. I recalled as a child being taken to the British museum to an exhibition about Augustus in which his public image was contrasted with written descriptions to make a point about publicity and propaganda I suppose. Though I imagine that my early earnest worship in the cathedrals of knowledge made greater impact on my thighs stairs build strength and museums have many stairs than on my brain.

IInd Introduction, earnest with argument and some unparliamentary language
Ronald Syme's The Roman Revolution is a work of passion, written with a degree of conviction and ferocity that it doesn't, I feel, quite deliver upon. In fact the two distinctive features of this work cause him problems that I don't think he ever comes to terms with, still less resolves.

First point: this is a work published in 1939. What Syme does is look at the end of the Roman Republic and the beginning of empire from the perspective of recent world history. This is a brilliant, yet troubling conception, and under executed. The Bolshevik revolution gives us the Roman Army as the proletariat of Italy, motivated by a Leninist call for Land and Peace. The army had to be paid off and demobilised soldiers rewarded with land grants. This required land seizures from the rich and taxes on the rich. Problem is, beyond the broad outlines and echoes in Virgil one can say nothing in detail about this process nor its outcomes and no hint of revolutionary feeling or class consciousness has come down to us. Next Augustus is a terrorist, more he is a Mussolini, raising an army and marching on Rome, further yet he is a Hitler, developing a new power power structure and crushing those uncertain elements that brought him to power and developing in a conservative direction. There is a complication here immediately ,in that Fascism was consciously modelling itself on ancient Rome, but taking in Augustus's use of private morality and family life as the centre of a programme of Roman renewal, we can see his regime as the forerunner and exemplar of a range of authoritarian through to Fascist movements. The big problem is that this argument is really very disturbing, because it cuts both ways, as Syme's end point is essentially: yes Augustus was a bloody handed bastard, but a necessary one who brought about a real and historically meaningful renewal of Rome:"he had saved and regenerated the Roman People"(p524). 'Roman people' blends into Syme's second distinctive feature, on which point more below. How comfortable are we with the implication that many European countries had run into political dead ends by the 1920s and 30s and had to go through periods of 'national' regeneration, in other words there is an implicit problem,which admittedly the first edition never had to face of looking at the ancient world in a post 1945 world from the perspective of 1939, after yet another round of the all-European championships in the military arts makes all the difference. The second distinctive feature of this book is that Syme was from New Zealand, from the Imperial periphery, and he feels himself analogous to people from the Roman periphery, like Tacitus his favourite historian and Trajan and Co. For Syme at most Empire is a necessary evil, with the emphasis on necessary, again in a world which has seen a degree of decolonisation this puts some of his basic and fundamental beliefs at odds with a more contemporary view point, for Syme a real division of humanity into intrinsically martial (Macedonians, Galatians not only were they the recipients of a letter from St.Paul but also the descendants of wild touring Gauls who settled in the area of modern Turkey 'Romans')and less martial peoples exists, the 'Roman People' is for Syme an unproblematic concept, they are derived from an actual human stock that for him is transforming from a narrowly Roman to a more broadly Italian one, for him these are fundamentally tough peasants, idealised in poetry, though he admits probably not so nice to find rampaging through your native village one day. This for me is a view of race and nation, widespread in the world before 1945, now distasteful in certain swathes of the world and deeply problematic in any case, I call upon my learned friend Ovid, to explain why with reference to his book The Art of Love not suitable for very young persons ahem in short - what were those Romans ? The descendants of a rag-tag bunch of brigands and the Sabine women, the ultimate horror of modern populist politicians: an entire population made up of immigrants hell bent on conquering everybody else for sexual ends and if we add our friend Virgil, who has so far been quiet , waiting his turn to speak, into the mix, a people with a genius for governing others though possibly not themselves. So Syme, poor fellow, ends up seriously worried about the detrimental effect of too many slaves entering the Roman blood stock, personally I feel that the Romans were as healthy as mongrels, rather than as prone to health problems as pure bred inbreds.

His argument is brilliant, inciting and icky. What can one say? People like Hitler, Mussolini and Augustus ultimately just spoil everything, and on completion I couldn't join with Syme in his assessment of Augustus - a knowing salute from the edge of one Empire to the heart of another I know, that you know, that we know, what empire and dominion is all about, he seems to say - What I wanted to say was felas Octavi! I did say there would be unparliamentary language with apologies to men who find it pleasant and desirable to fellate other men, my only defence is that in the context of early Imperial/late republican Rome such a phrase would unambiguously have been intended as, and interpreted as being insulting

Cynicism
A cursory glance over other reviews shows that the word cynical crops up often. Personally I would not describe Syme as cynical in any way, indeed at several points he is in need of a generous transfusion of cynicism from a donor cynic. The issue is that he isn't idealistic or inclined to accept the propaganda or marketing at face value. For Syme politics is about power, I don't know if he read Weber, but the bibliography is fairly evenly divided between English, French and German language scholarship, he might have picked up that idea of power exercised through oligarchies at second hand. Syme's views are stark, but not cynical, indeed he is fanciful in places. One example I'll return to below, another is he regurgitates that the 'mob' 'spontaneously' cremated Julius Caesar's body and erected an altar in his memory which is just crazy fantasy. For things like that to happen , particularly with the appearance of spontaneity, takes organisation. It takes without an accelerant like petrol a fair deal of seasoned wood to burn a body and the kinds of people who might happen to have masonry or wood working tools on them while crossing the forum one morning, are the kinds of people who've got paying jobs they need to get to in order to put bread and cheese on the table that evening, not the kinds of people who can afford to stand about listening to the reading of wills and then spend time putting up an altar (a task which in another context takes the Senate four years to get completed so spontaneous my arse. But in terms of considerations of power Syme is relatively undeluded (which again may be a feature of being from the colonies).

Paradise Lost
One of the delightful curiosities of Syme's text is that people are invariably sovran rather than sovereign, which gave me the impression that he'd learnt his book English from a copy of Paradise Lost. And I did wonder if Milton had determined his view of Politics - that maybe for him all politicians are little Satans in pain/ Vaunting aloud, but rackt with deep despare (book I 125-6) who through their guile and wiles can only ever manage to bring sin and Death into the world? Certainly this is what we see at the close of the Roman Republic particularly in the person of Augustus who virtually single handedly dragged the Mediterranean world into multiple rounds of civil war until he alone was undisputed ruler of the world apart from China, and India, and other places important unto themselves like Hibernia or Arabia Felix. Several times the Mediterranean world appeared to be on the brink of peace before Octavian/Augustus resumed warfare. Ironically the consummate warmonger was a poor general and admiral, he avoided capture and execution on several occasions but that was the limit of his skill. His skill was in political gambling in which he conducted a master class.

Felas Octavi
During the civil wars Octavian /Augustus and his soldiers pin Marcus Antonius' wife and brother in the town of Perusia, this is less of a coup than it might seem. While M. Antonius was a great admirer and lover of women he wasn't the type to limit his affections to only one, and as for brothers... A number of lead bullets fired from slings have been found round the town, some plain others bearing some kind of sharp message to add insult to injury. I assume these bullets were cast and so presumably somebody decided what message to add to the mould, I wonder whether this was L. Antonius himself or the blacksmith attached to a particular legion, one such bullet has the inscription Felas Octavi.

Power, Oligarchy to party to court factionalism
At the centre of Syme's argument is a hole. We're not interested purely in a Sulla, Pompeii, Caesar or Octavian he says but in the people around them, they form , determine and execute the policies carried out in their interests. Fine, problem being that what we know about such people is the result of several generations of careful study of inscriptions and named individuals, trying to build up family trees and a picture of networks and interests when it comes down to it Syme names three key individuals around Augustu,s but Syme only has the not quite purple but certainly mauve idea of falling back on their statute portraits to reach conclusions about the nature of their influence ,these three people were Livia, Agrippa, and Maecenas. This reminds me of this review of which book the reviewer says that the author has the breasts of his female characters do the work of characterisation (so presumably firm, unyielding, generous, ripe etc), second there's an awful lot of arselick in portraiture, perhaps as much as 100%, I heard that the late Princess of Wales asked her portraitist to make her look strong so he slapped extra paint on her shoulders to make her look more muscly. We don't know if Livia or Agrippa really looked like those statues, we only know that they presumably authorised and approved those images, indeed in the case of Augustus we know that he looked more like this: it will be observed that the Princeps was by no means was by no means as majestic & martial in appearance as his effigies show him forth. His limbs were well proportioned, but his stature was short, a defect which he sought to repair by wearing high heels. Nor were all his features prepossessing - he had bad teeth & sandy hair (p480) after the civil war he gave up exercise & only bathed rarely, avoided the sun and couldn't stand the cold wearing four under-shirts and puttees rather than like this, so a short podgy smelly man with bad breath (admittedly sculpture is not a good medium for suggesting smell to the viewer). From the evidence it is hard to link more than a few people with distinct interests, either political or economic which I feel sinks the endeavour of looking at the oligarchies which exercised power, however that for all Pompey's clients he could not stand against Caesar in Italy and that he didn't fall back on Hispania, or indeed the curious longevity over generations of apparent feeling of obligation to one party or family invites further investigation. Another problem is that during this period we are seeing a transition from politics of oligarchy to party to factions at royal court and I don't find Syme convincing here, although he does see the banishment of daughter Julia and the punishment of five highly placed men as likely to be political with the formal accusation of immorality as a cover. The political dynamic around a person who has monopolised power is different to oligarchic factions or even a party ans Syme's method doesn't really capture that. Syme also has a 'must have' opinion on financial experts in Augustus' service, about which I would say more, but I've run out of space.

Octavian's political programme
Octavian initial proclaimed his goal, as the heir to Julius Caesar to be the extermination of his assassins, this was seen as an Act of Piety remember Virgil's Pius Aeneas this he broadened out to destroying all potential rivals and claimants to the legacy of Julius Caesar. This meant that Cleopatra has to be persuaded to die, her suicide is not a final cry of felas Octavi, you'll never take me alive!, but the action of someone persuaded to reign from high office because apparently they suddenly really want to spend more time with this family thing that everybody says they have out there beyond the corridors of power, and her children have to die too many caesars obviously are no good thing. And then lots of other people also have to die or helpfully commit suicide something of a Roman trait. His politics goes through a revolutionary phase before settling down, the centre piece of Octavian/Augustus' reform policy is a series of laws on family morality, against divorce, against adultery and to encourage child birth. Syme again lacks cynicism and reads these at face value. What I read, post 1945, was in a society whose atomic unit was the family, and whose politics was built through marriage and family connections was that this was a massively ambitious power grab. From this point of view friend Ovid's cynical, yet amusing work The Art of Love becomes a political statement of resistance, a literary felas Octavi to counter Virgil's Aeneid ( which courtesy of Syme looks increasingly propagandistic). No wonder he was exiled, arguing that Roman Imperium had always been about sexual domination, while setting himself in Eros's camp, going on a mission to the theatre to see and be seen, that the true Roman is the sexual adventurer was a little too close to the mark for his times.

Syme fades out with a black arm band on, ripping open the box of tissues as he laments the end of the traditional Roman aristocracy. Do we mourn for them - didn't their unmanageable rivalry bring about their own destruction?


Salve Syme
A great and worth while book that I fear, doesn't and couldn't deliver as much as it promises. However it has vigour and a neat turn of phrase that I've tried to capture in my updates. A rather bracing view of a complex period of transition, yes most of the footnotes are in either Latin or Greek, yes he does stick to the Latin form of names, no there are no maps, nor detailed descriptions of battles nor of the suicide of Cassius. But a pretty powerful historic conception, it could be a self standing read if you down mind jumping in the deep end.

Still ultimately my take is felas Octavi. One can view the Roman republic from a structural point of view as intrinsically headed for disaster the combination of clintentalism, militarism, and honour culture were powerful drivers for ever more violent conflict, but it is not quite Syme's argument that the route to Empire was inevitable, still if omelettes can only be made by breaking eggs then perhaps some political veganism is overdue.

[Szplug · Rating 5 out of 5]

Syme's The Roman Revolution is absolutely first rate interpretive history: exhaustive in its detail, but in the best of ways, particularly in that the learned and opinionated author serves as the filter through which all of the surviving histories of the Latin and Greek primary sources from antiquity are combed and then combined—in beautifully composed, dynamic language timbered with a very Tacitean cynicism, pessimism and severity—to present his encompassing theme: that the turn from what he calls a Free State to Monarchic Despotism was the trade-off between liberty and stability that the Republic demanded, based upon its structural inability to adequately handle the vast geographical expansion of the final century BC and the scheming, avaricious, and increasingly unruly political factionalism that growth engendered; was, in fact, a purposive Revolutionary movement that found its origin in populist and plebeian conflict with the oligarchic and conservative alliance of patrician families and equestrian financiers; novi homines vs. the old guard aristocracy and money. It's an extraordinary achievement: quite simply the best book I have read in a very long time. Gibbon would not merely be proud—he'd be impressed.

There is a plethora of personalities involved within, although the names that dominate the period generally held to have precipitated and advanced the decline of the Republic—Marius, Sulla, Pompey, Crassus, Cato, Cicero, Caesar, Antonius (like Syme, I refuse to call the man Mark Anthony, as if, at any moment, he'd be prepared to shed his cuirass and robes that he might shake and groove and flash his pearly whites to the rhythm of a funky Latin beat), Lepidus, and Octavian—are perforce called upon to receive a significant share of the page count. Still, Syme made exemplary use of the prosopography undertaken by German scholars like Münzer and Gelzer, to sort and array the omnibus of praenomen, nomen, and cognomen that comprised the body of historically relevant Roman citizens who formed the second and third ranks of important actors, collated from those primary and secondary sources ranging across decades of the period in question, that they could be slotted into the proper ordering and their positional relevance to Syme's great theme made that much clearer in its exposition.

The final despotic structure that emerged was headed and guided by Gaius Octavianus cum Caesar Augustus, and from the outset the author declares that the latter will receive a harsher treatment than his predecessors or peers; however, he also makes clear, in the same passage, that it is not a moral condemnation, but rather a check upon the panegyrics the imperial founder had received in a bevy of modern evaluations that a more sere and unvarnished truth reveal itself beneath a scrubbed veneer:

Whether the Princeps made atonement for the crime and violence of his earlier career is a question vain and irrelevant, cheerfully to be abandoned to the moralist or the casuist. The present inquiry will attempt to discover the resources and devices by which a revolutionary leader arose in civil strife, usurped the power for himself and his faction, transformed a faction into a national party, and a torn and distracted land into a nation, with a stable and enduring government.

As Syme sees it, the core and perduring element of the power structure in the Roman Republic was an oligarchy, comprised of the nobiles, Patrician and Plebeian consulars who jealousy guarded access to the consulate and, hence, to their ruling Senatorial clique. While the Patriciate dominated the ranks of the nobiles, those elevated from the Plebs had forged powerful lineages of their own—and such was the state at the time of the reorganization of Sulla, Roman Dictator in 81 BC and the paradigm of the ruthless political adventurer for those who competed for supremacy in the decades following his abdication from power; especially in his usage of Novi Homines, New Men, upstarts and non-entities whom he rewarded for service by admission to the Senate. However, Sulla, of the aristocratic Cornelii, also strived to strengthen the Senate by diminishing the power of the tribunes and legislating constitutional changes. The following decades would see a fierce competition between this Sullan aristocratic element, the Optimates, and those who, in emulation of Marius, played to the emotions and for the support of the masses, the Populares. Indeed, as Syme views it, this conflict, with its burgeoning factionalism, corruption, manipulation, and violence, progressively undermined the stability and structure of the Roman Republic as powerful and charismatic individuals vied to become the First Man (Princeps) in Rome, with its attendant enhancement of their dignitas and auctoritas. A part of the conflict lay in what constituted a citizen's modus operandi: the old nobility maintained a tradition of service to the state, transcending material interests and containing high ideals—a concept wholly absent from that of the equite financiers.

Pompey was the next innovator, using military victories and acclaim—and the continuous threat of the legions he could raise from his vast number of supporters, in Italy and abroad—as means to securing overseas proconsular provinces, by which he built a web of clientela dependent upon his rewards, ranging from Roman Citizens to foreign kings and their entire subject population. The Optimates, perceiving the threat of Pompey and his boundless ambitions, were forced to maneuver with other political aspirants, which led to the accession of Crassus, the wealthiest man in the Republic, and Caesar, supremely charismatic, well-connected, and, through his popular conquest of Gaul, a military hero to rival Pompey. Syme takes the reader, quite brilliantly, through the rise of the First Triumvirate, the showdown between Caesar, under threat to his dignitas and armed with veteran legions from the Gallic Wars and the support of the Populares, and the Optimates, having elected a reluctant (and jealous) Pompeius as their champion. We all know how it ended: Caesar victorious and voted Dictator for life, only to be cut down by a cabal of Senatorial assassins—the self-proclaimed Liberatores—as he prepared to embark upon a campaign against the Parthians in the far east.

Here's where Syme begins delivering his specialized goods: in convincing detail he traces the lingering discontent within an Italy that had, as recently as the Sullan era, embarked upon a savagely fought conflict, the Social War, to free themselves from the domination of Roman rentiers and politicians. Following Sulla's death, these peninsular realms would prove fertile recruiting grounds for the legions of both Pompey, from his origins and patronage in Picenum and surrounding areas, and Caesar, who headed the remnant Marian populist faction; but they furnished a surprising number of the Novi Homines with which the two—and particularly Caesar—staffed their armies and represented themselves in the maelstrom of Roman civic politics. With his nascent party, the Populares, in control, the opportunity was ripe for a thorough reform of the Republican system, to ameliorate the problems of trying to govern an empire via the constitution of a city-state. However, Caesar did not deliver on his promises of reform—indeed, unwilling to fully embrace the measures demanded by those who had assisted him in his rise, he claimed monarchical powers that needlessly riled the Optimates who had been delivered unto his broad clemency and conspired to murder him; and the latter quickly found themselves helpless to maneuver against Antonius, holding the consulship in 44BC, without making use of Octavian—the heir to Caesar's name—who used that invaluable heirloom as a means of raising a private army with which he forcibly inserted himself into the political competition, first on the side of the aristocratic oligarchy, and then joined with Antonius and Lepidus in the Second Triumvirate.

Syme displays, throughout, a charitable view of Antonius—a man competent, vigorous, and skilled in the ways of both forum dais and military camp, he was also impulsive, loyal, and charitable: as proof of such, Syme offers the three distinct opportunities that Antonius had to eliminate his youthful rival, and of which he never availed himself. However, he also notes how an enduring reason for their reconciliations lay in that it was so-willed by the Caesarian Party, the backbone of which were the legion veterans, who revered the name of Caesar and the personal wealth he lavished upon them (and which Octavian prudently continued in full measure), and the NH, moneymen and senators, established in the provinces, who felt insecure without cohesion between the two leaders of the coalition government. Dreading the possibility of another civil war, and with the chief Liberatores Brutus and Cassius slain after the Battle of Philippi, the Republic groaned beneath a military despotism more stringent and oppressive than anything experienced under Caesar: indeed, in many ways, Syme posits, Octavian and Antonius ruled in a manner that Pompey would have, had he possessed political gifts to match his military ones. Still, there was stability and rule, no matter how precariously balanced—and Rome found itself prepared to accept the stringent and harsh rule of the Triumvirs, with their brutal marshals and governors, however much it debased the republican ideal.

As the years passed, and notwithstanding that both men were associated with the proscriptions that had decimated the senatorial and, in especial, the equestrian ranks—for both political security and financial enrichment, with which the legionaries were paid and the veterans provided with lands to settle upon—the nobiles and foreign notables, including the first rank of the Caesarian party, gravitated to the side of Antonius; while youthful adventurers and talented plebs with grievances against landed property joined with Octavian—and, in any event, Rome was filled with ruffians and the dues paid to pietas shown as an empty charade. At the same time, the structure of Roman politics shifted: no longer were family alliances and resounding lineages the determining factor in the allotment of offices; rather, the number of personal legions and provincial clientele became paramount. The author also paints fascinating portraits of the chief marshals for whom the two dominant leaders competed: Plancus, a talented time-server changing sides as advantage was determined; Lepidus, an ignoble cipher, aligned with Antonius and sidelined by Octavian when he moved too early after the victories over Sextus Pompeius; and Pollio, a literary wit and republican Caesarian who strived for neutrality until Actium convinced him that Octavian's star was ascendant.

And yet it proved that Octavian had the better marshals: Agrippa and Salvidienus, descended from peasant stock, and Taurus, a superb military mind who easily filled Salvidienus' shoes when the latter was executed for treacherous outreach to Antonius after Perusia. Another Etruscan, Gaius Maecenas, served Octavian faithfully as his civil administrator in Rome, entertaining, feeding, and soothing the city masses. As the years passed, and the term of the triumvirate neared expiry, Octavian, through his rule of the Western half of the empire and hewing to Roman norms, developed a potent propaganda effort against Antonius, long absent in the east and decried as having succumbed to Greek tyrannical airs, the proof of which lay in his flaunted marriage with Cleopatra, a foreign queen with rapacious eyes upon Roman provinces. In the deciding Battle of Actium, Antonius saw, one by one, his republican supporters cross over to the side of Octavian—even Ahenobarbus, once Octavian's bitterest foe and the leader of the tattered remnants of the Optimates. Afterwards, when Octavian found himself sole master of the Roman world, it was time to complete the revolution with an artful genius that would disguise its broad, pervasive, and perduring implementation.

What was the revolution? It was not the elimination of the oligarchy itself, because, as Syme perceives, it ever lasted, at the font of power, while Octavian (become Augustus) developed his forms of despotic mastery. The revolution was the overthrowing of the ancient houses and established money by the influx of new names, as well as the vast distribution of landed property amongst legion veterans, in Italy and colonies abroad. It was the evolution of the senate from legislative power to a forum of nominal debate and acceptance of imposed law. It was the change from proconsular provincial rule designed for personal aggrandizement and wealth, that it be wielded in the game of power amongst the nobiles in Rome, and the farming out of administrative needs like tax collection and public services; rather, the rule of Augustus saw the division of the empire into senatorial provinces, governed by praetors until Augustus felt secure enough to give them to the ex-consuls, and military provinces—the only ones with legions—that were governed by legates chosen from men who owed everything to his favor—along with the development of a centralized administration staffed by competent freedmen and knights, rather than the patronage appointments of competing factions. While the tamed senate indulged in powerless orations and displays of wealth, a cabinet, in which the real decisions of government were undertaken, cohered, comprised of such as Augustus, Maecenus, Agrippa, Taurus, and the freedmen, often non-Roman, who occupied that central hub. The former ambitions that drove the nobiles and patriciate into intense competition to become the first man of Rome, and which severely destabilized the republic through the corruption, factionalism, and violence it engendered and required, were harnessed to the service of the Roman state. Unwilling to see one of their own emerge on top, the aristocracy yet proved pliable as long as Augustus lorded, as Princeps, over the lot; it was a swing towards stability, order, regulation, meritorious administration: but it was not all at once, and it was not according to any ordained unfolding. In Syme's calculation, the Caesarian party was revolutionary in spirit and intent, not so much in theory or ideology. It intended to initiate change upon the unstable, violent, and faction-ridden Republic to ameliorate that condition—but did so, under Augustus and the oligarchy, in reaction to events and the moment, not in a doctrinaire service to ideas. The revolution was effected, not premeditated.

The star of the the revolution was Gaius Julius Caesar Divi Filius Augustus, the Princeps. Notwithstanding the author's severe portrayal of him as a man cold, inhuman, despotic, and fortunate beyond measure in both his name and his lieutenants, the first Roman emperor was courageous, competent, and politically savvy sans peer. His life story is nigh unheralded, and his progression from callow youth, scrounging up legions and daring the heavyweights, to Triumvir struggling mightily in dealing with the unrest between Roman citizens and unhappy veterans, to Dux commanding the forces of the West against the more experienced (and liked) Antonius, and ending as Princeps of Rome is a remarkable one. Having secured, through his third wife Livia, the allegiance of the Claudii and Livii clans, Augustus ever worked the aristocracy to bring them on board to the Caesarian party and its dominance. As patiently revealed by Syme, Louis XIV had nothing on the Princeps: by assuaging the honor of the upper class through their continued participation in the consulship, membership in the senate, and accumulation of private honor and wealth (to be spent on public goods), Augustus prevailed over their previously ruinous ambition. The aristocracy was regulated and sterilized, set to vie for the emperor's favor in serving the Roman state—the political demagogues and military adventurers from the days of the Republic had no place in the new system. Indeed, when Augustus, in 23 BC, attempted to veer fully into nepotism and monarchy through the raising of his nephew, Marcellus, it was his closest peer, Agrippa, and his wife, Livia, who forced a confrontation and emerged victorious. And although Augustus ruthlessly used the women in his family as marriage tools to cement alliances with important nobiles, it was his austere stepson, Tiberius, who survived to be instated as the emperor's successor.

As so often proves the case when revolution has prevailed, there was also a reactionary rebound: the writerly talents of Rome, under the emperor's patronage, penned paeans to the values of the sturdy (and mythic) Roman peasant of old—chaste, loyal, honest, and hard. Moral laws were promulgated (and mocked in their transgression), the borders expanded to the Danube in a series of hard-fought campaigns, while the Parthian Great King was happy to make enduring peace with the Lord of the World. Roads were built, grain stored and distributed—trade flourished and fortunes were made. Having sown for the masses the vision of a great enterprise, stability and strong, orderly government won the day over the cacophonous electioneering of old. And in this Syme proved a realist: while his sympathies lay with staunch Republicans like Tacitus and Pollio, who lamented the loss to the arts and to life under a staid, overweening despotism, he yet realized that such was a part of the enduring trade-off between liberty and security, in that liberty inevitably loses if security becomes sufficiently threatened. Nor is this balancing act ever fully settled, just like the Human Nature which drives our actions and emotions. Augustus gave the people of his vast, sprawling empire security and stability under the carefully orchestrated illusion of freedom, for which, in the end, they gratefully acquiesced. It is a tale that was written ere the Princeps and ever and anon afterwards—indeed, it plays out in its various permutations and threads in our own third millennium. That is a part of what makes The Roman Revolution such a thoroughly superb work of historical interpretation: that Syme, despairing in the onset of the Second World War, plumbed the words of the near entirety of sources that he might explicate it in ways that both made sense and were relevant to our own times. Only a part, however. That he is such a wonderfully talented writer, acerbic, witty, elegant, able to expound at length and with grace or deliver succinct, driving lunges of sustained energy are a huge part of the remainder.

Indeed, there is only one single drawback, and which stems from the fact that the author wrote his great and enduring work at a time of different standards in general education: he quotes extensively from the primary sources in Latin and Greek, and assumes that the reader has sufficient knowledge of such as to dispense with translation. Aided in a small part by my so-so grasp of Spanish, I nonetheless passed a considerable amount of time typing words, or copying paragraphs, into Google Translate. It was a laborious effort, but proved worth it in the end—as with so many of the best scholars, the pudding wherein lies the proof is to be found in the footnotes. So, gird yourself for plying the trade of translation, and there is no reason whatsoever why you shouldn't drop whatever you are planning on reading and devour The Roman Revolution—after the opus from Mighty Gibbon the Eternal and Resplendent, the single greatest work of Roman history I have ever had the pleasure to experience.

[Evan Leach · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Roman Revolution is a tricky book to review. Written back in 1939, Ronald Syme’s book details Rome’s transition from republic to empire between 60 b.c. and 14 a.d. The book has been enormously influential and controversial since its release 73 years ago, and is probably the most famous book of Roman history this side of Edward Gibbon.

First off, this book is not a good introduction to the period in question. Syme assumes that his audience is already familiar with the course of events, and he flies through certain incidents that I wanted to hear about in more detail. This was by far my biggest frustration with this book. I know the basic details regarding the wars between Julius Caesar and Pompey & between Augustus and Antony, but I’m not an expert and was looking forward to learning more about them. And despite the book’s size (almost 600 pages), I was disappointed.

However, I’m hesitant to kill the book for this. After all, it’s not Syme’s fault that I don’t know my Philippi from my Pharsalus. The Roman Revolution is ultimately not a book of general history, but a book of political history. Syme is interested in the detailed mechanics of the transition from republic to empire and the political machine that allowed it to happen. And in this regard, The Roman Revolution is pretty amazing. The level of research that must have went into this is incredible. Syme has painstakingly reconstructed the political web that Augustus built, to a degree that I wouldn’t have believed possible considering all of the participants have been dead for 2,000 years. It’s a pretty herculean work of scholarship. Whether or not you believe his argument that the republic was basically dead on his feet and the shift to empire was virtually inevitable (and I thought he made a convincing case), Syme’s writing is superb and his portrayal of Augustus is inspired.

So. If you already know your Roman history, and are looking for an in-depth examination of how the mechanics of power were used to effect the switch from republic to empire, this book is for you. If like me, your knowledge is somewhat wanting going in, this book will make you realize what you don’t know and cause you to slink off and search for a more general history, like Tom Holland’s Rubicon. I don’t want to make this book sound like a totally myopic look at the Roman power transition: Syme regularly makes observations on the nature of government and power that are universal (given the year the book was released, the book was controversial as some of its arguments could be twisted to support fascism, at least according to certain readers). This was an impressive book and I enjoyed it, but if I knew more about it going in I definitely would have tackled a more general history of the period first. 4.5 stars, recommended for readers interested in political theory and true Rome-ophiles.

[Olethros · Rating 4 out of 5]

-Contracorriente hasta crear su propio curso.-

Género. Ensayo.

Lo que nos cuenta. El libro La revolución romana (publicación original: The Roman Revolution, 1939) ofrece un análisis interpretativo del final de la república y el comienzo del imperio en la Antigua Roma, con especial hincapié en la figura de Octaviano/Augusto y su comportamiento durante dicha transformación sociopolítica. Esta edición en español se corresponde con la segunda edición del original, de 1951, corregida y revisada.

¿Quiere saber más de este libro, sin spoilers? Visite:

https://librosdeolethros.blogspot.com...

[Scriptor Ignotus · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is history writing at its very best. Syme provides readers with a total immersion into the familial and factional maneuvering of the transition from republic to principate. The central narrative of the book deals with the rise of Octavianus; from a 19-year-old youth at the time of Caesar's assassination, to a polished demagogue stirring up trouble, to a marauder with a mercenary army, to a triumvir sharing autocratic power, and finally ascending, at the head of a new coalition, to a position that transcended the state itself, allowing him to rework the constitutional structure into a new governing apparatus, the principate.

The rest of the book chronicles the consolidation of power around Augustus' new ruling faction, and the gradual decline of the old aristocrats, which left the field to a new Augustan aristocracy. Throughout the book, Syme meticulously describes the allegiances and fortunes of the great families, patrician and plebeian, and how they made their way during the revolutionary period.

In addition to the quality of the scholarship, Syme's prose also stands out. His language is both beautiful and skeptical, and some of the laconic statements he makes about political life throughout the work are timeless and worthy of one of the great historians of the twentieth century. It is difficult to do justice to just how great this book is.

[Andrew · Rating 5 out of 5]

There is a sadness to this book as you watch an entire group of people - not all angels certainly - slowly extinguished: the Caecilii, Metelli, Scipiones fade from the history of Rome. And newcomers, to whom the Roman historians have not been kind, set up in their place.

It really was a revolution, not just a slow decay of the Republic. The ruling classes died off in civil wars and proscriptions, to be replaced by a de novo ruling class which, in the incipient empire, could not continue to hold prominence in the Senate, the courts, or the battlefield. All these honours belonged now to the princeps and his increasingly professionalized corps of civil servants.

Continuously in print, this remains an important contribution to our understanding of the fall of the Republic. It is, at times, turgidly dense, as Syme walks through the tangled family connections of the period. But his thoughts on the changing social structure of the time, the uses of propaganda, and the theory of government are vivid and insightful.

[Stephen · Rating 5 out of 5]

When Syme finally says "The revolution is over" (on page 451) you let out a sigh of relief too. Generations of anarchy, civil war, a time when you had to choose sides, with the losing side killed off through vengeful, extralegal means, this is all conveyed marvelously, frighteningly, with the depth of a great literary stylist. Names pass by in a bewildering array, none of whom are explained, as if you are in the center of Rome around the time of Julius Caesar gathering bits of information, none of which makes any sense. But you feel the power at stake and it shakes you. Time passes. Power changes hands. You survive. It makes a little more sense.

At each turn, Syme explains exactly what the choices were for those vying to subdue the country. You come away from this book with a deep knowledge of politics in a world without right and wrong. Not one second is wasted, in other words, detailing how the gods of Rome overlooking the Republic effected men's minds. Syme is as clear-headed as you'd hope a historian could be.

Hobsbawm, together with the liberal bourgeois historians of the 19th century, ask if history had finally slipped away from humanity during the crisis of the French Revolution. Syme doesn't argue for it; he shows that it did. When this happens we are often willing to experiment and try anything to prevent the destruction of a way of life. That's the feel of a revolution: there's nothing anyone can do to stop it. This brought out the guillotine in France; Rome had its proscription lists. The 20th century the atomic bomb, the firebombing of civilians. That's the crux of what Syme details. No one was in control because no one could be in control.

But then it was finally over. Augustus was in charge. Monarch, dictator, hero of the people, the first citizen, suppressor of public immorality - nice labels all, but in reality what the hell was he? Syme doesn't come out and say it. But in a nutshell, a necessary evil.

Syme had so absorbed the writers he studied that his work actually feels Roman. I look at him on the shelves and think he is no different from Tacitus. That's no accident - he said his prose style was sharpened on Tacitus and Sallust. In reading this history you wonder how you'd react. Would you just throw up your hands like those two historians did, incredulous that all has fallen apart?

The final chapters were especially outstanding when he shows how the revolution was secured in every facet of Roman and Italian life. You couldn't call it progress, even though the Republic could now fulfill its imperial aims, extending itself to the east, making forays into the perimeters. Rome may have been heading in this direction anyway but it didn't feel that way at the time. Peace had returned. Public opinion was manipulated to uphold the regime. There was mind control but at least there was peace.

Then there are the patriotic poets like Horace and Virgil, Rome's legacy to world culture. They did as much to shape public opinion as their benefactors demanded. And those benefactors wished to please power. In that, not much has changed in 2,000 years. Their relationship to power isn't to be condemned, since Syme won't condemn it, but like a great poet himself, Syme is under no illusion about the relationship between poetry and politics - it is everything - it is real.

[Al · Rating 4 out of 5]

An excellent work that explores the decay of the Republic and the establishment of the Principate, from 60 BC to AD 14. It uses extensive prosopographal evidence throughout, to outline extensive familial connections among the elite of the Republic in all three classes. Syme outlines the basis of power in the late Republic within three familiar themes: the consulate, the army and the tribunate. This was an extremely dense read, but very interesting in examining motives and methods in achieving not just electoral results to the consulship, but familial alliances and movement among the plebs, knights and patricians. Footnotes are limited to the essential primary and secondary source material. The bibliography is extensive and excellent. Syme also provides an appendix which lists by name and date all of the consuls from 80 BC to AD 14. He also provides family trees of the leading Roman families, such as the Metelli and the family of Augustus, and lists kinsmen of Cato, the Aemilii and the descendants of Pompeius. Once of the best one volume works on the late Republic.

[l · Rating 5 out of 5]

I found most of it quite interesting - Syme traces the role of the 'oligarchy' in the fall of the Republic. It's not actually a difficult read - you are confronted with an intimidating onslaught of detail and the footnotes are in Greek or Latin but the chapters are short, he writes very clearly and has a sardonic tone which is quite amusing at times. I had thought from the introduction and the book's reputation that Syme's bias against Augustus would be much clearer and really detract from the book, but I didn't actually think it a major problem (maybe it's only because I've read worse in my really ill-conceived research project on Elagabalus.) In the chapters dealing with the Principate, Syme does get noticeably overly speculative about Augustus' motives but, imo, that isn't the interesting part of the book anyway - there are definitely more indepth studies of Augustan propaganda (Syme relies totally on texts so he limits himself). I liked that it gave you the sense of a society - the familiar historical figures being simply part of that. Anyway, I enjoyed it!

[Robyn · Rating 5 out of 5]

"The" classic work on the Late Republic (before Gruen, which is largely in response to this book), Syme envisions the first century BC Roman world as a crumbling Republic inhabited by squabbling cliques of aristocrats and over-mighty generals. He classifies the shift between the true "Republic" before Sulla and the institution of the Principate in 27 BC as a true 'Revolution.' I love Syme, and I love his ideas, even if I don't entirely agree with his admittedly extremist arguement...

[Aurélien Thomas · Rating 4 out of 5]

Here's not a biography of Augustus. Here's an expose of how the Roman Republic ended (or did it?) and how a young man greedy for power would establish a new autocratic regime which would define Rome for about three hundred years. This is a political narrative, where the author focus intensely on the political factions, rivalries, families feuds, clash of personalities that would serve a brutal change of government; a change which, also, had been profound indeed. Echoing Tacitus, the author's conclusion about the emergence of the Principate, though, is actually blunt and uncompromising:

'it may be regarded merely as the legalization, and therefore the strengthening, of despotic power.'

One could accuse him of being politically influenced. After all, this was first published in 1939; in an international context which was witnessing the rise of totalitarian regimes all across Europe (fascistic rulers ridding their countries of inadequate regimes, in the name of law and order when civil unrests where threatening...). One could also accuse him of being cynical too. For him indeed, such Roman Revolution was not done out of political ideal, but, self-serving interests from selfish factions of all sorts -the corruption and greed of adventurers, financiers, and feuding families, who all saw in Augustus the defender of their privileges. One could accuse him to do so, yet...

Taking an original approach, the historian tackles his subject using prosopography. This not only allows him to show that, yes indeed, the Republic was inadequate and Julius Caesar a dictator, but, also and above all, that the volatiles factions then fighting each others were so intricately linked by common interest that the oligarchy was too strong to be easily overthrown... should one wish to overthrow it! Augustus, despite all the political slogans, knew better. He just had to tap into it to assert full power, his own coup; and, ruthless and ambitious as he was, he will not hesitate to do just that. Politicians putting self-interest before the common good may (*cough*) sound shocking (well…) but let's not forget how alien Roman politics was to ours. Taking the time to outline key political concepts, the historian also points in fact to a mindset ripe for dictatorship:

'Debauched by demagogues and largess, the Roman people was ready for the Empire and the dispensation of bread and games.'

With such view in mind, it becomes clearer why the likes of Mark Anthony, too conciliant perhaps, were doomed to fail anyway. The rot had already nested within long ago, and so they had to be rid off too. Ronald Syme, here, does a good job in debunking the silly justifications put forward for a war to be declared against him -for, of course, Cleopatra was no threat to Rome! But the propaganda machine had been oiled and fully worked: Actium (not the glorious and grandiose battle you may think it was) had been well exploited.

That is not to say Augustus' triumph wasn't revolutionary. It was, for it would change the constitution of the ruling class forever. But, such drastic changes were more the by-products of the civil wars and their consequences than the result of a clear and intended revolutionary will. Indeed, Augustus the populist would well reward his cronies and, as 'nobiles' had been decimated through intestine wars, the 'novi homines' would rise from all over (from the whole of Italy -newly united- to, later on, the barbarians Provinces). Roman citizenship was on the path of massive change indeed...

Is this a enlightening read on troubled events? Oh yes! Here's brilliant scholarship and a massive opus on one of the focal point in Roman history. It can be daunting too, though. Prosopography might be the most relevant and persuasive approach to deal with the subject, considering Roman society and politics, but, the whirlwind of names and volatiles factions parading in here surely can be confusing and mystifying too! Here is, undeniably, a long and challenging book to go through. Yet, the core argument of it all remains powerful. In fact, Augustus might be here exposed for who he, and his regime, might truly have been about. Was Tacitus right, then? Whatever: this has become a classic on the period!

[Czarny Pies · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ce livre etait le manuel d'un cours sur l'histoire de l'empire romaine que j'ai suivi il y a quarante ans quand j'etais etudiant a une universite anglo-saxonne sur le bord de Lac Ontario. Le professeur James Boake nous a fait comprendre que l'Auguste a eu un parcours identique a celle de Michel (plus tard Don) Corleone le protagonsite du Grand Bestseller de l'epoque le Parrain. Dans le Parrain, le jeune Michel fait son retour a New York apres avoir passe les deux annees precedentes dans les forces Americaines dans le theatre du Pacifique qui faisaient la guerre contre les Japonais. L'assassinat du frere aine de Michel par une des familles ennemis met la famille Corleone en crise. Alors, te jeune Michel surprend tout le monde. Il organise rapidement une contre-offensive qui aneantit la famille adversaire et retablit une dominance sans equivoque de la famille Corleone a New York. Alors Syme demontre que le jeune Octave (plus tard Auguste) a vite raile la faction des homines novi apres l'assassinat de Jules Cesar qui a mis leur hegemonie en peril.

Le message du professeur Boake etait qui la politique en Italie se faisait comme ca partout en Italie depuis les debuts de la Republique Romaine jusqu'a la triomphe de Risorgimento en 1871. Apres 1871, on voyait ces pratiques chez les familes mafiosi de Sicile, de New York et de Chicago.

La these de Syme semble bien tenir la route et est peut conteste depuis 1939 l'annee de lancement de "Roman Revolution".

Attention ce Roman Revolution est tout a fait incomprehensible pour ceux qui ne possedent pas une bonne connaissance de l'historie de l'epoque.

[A.J. Howard · Rating 5 out of 5]

Full review to come, but quick thought. Syme has me convinced that Octavian/Caesar/Augustus should be considered one of the most successful revolutionary leaders of all time, which has me thinking: perhaps the true mark of success for a revolutionary leader is that future generations no longer consider them truly revolutionary? Before I follow that logic to picturing George Will in a beret and Castro beard, I'll leave. Hopefully, more to come...

[Nick · Rating 5 out of 5]

Classic history of the rise of Augustus. Ruthless revolutionary changes Rome forever.

[Iván · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5

La principal limitación de Ronald Syme es su implícita aversión hacia arqueología y hacia todo aquello que no suponga una minuciosa y exhaustiva lectura de las fuentes antiguas. Esta inclinación se convierte, paradójicamente, en la mayor fortaleza de La revolución romana.

El estudio prosopográfico que inicia con este volumen no tiene parangón en la historiografía clásica, o al menos no lo tenía cuando fue publicado en 1939. Para entonces, ya se habían consolidado los principales regímenes autoritarios europeos. Sus dictadores, amparados bajo el velo de procedimientos aparentemente legales, comenzaban a consolidar formas de poder autocráticas. Algo que pudo inspirar al autor neozelandés para retrotraerse a los primeros gobiernos unipersonales de la historia de Europa.
Pero Syme rechaza el retrato biográfico de Augusto: para él, la verdadera fuerza motriz de la revolución romana fue la oligarquía. De ahí que el enfoque prosopográfico y marcadamente textual del historiador pueda haberle hecho un favor. Syme arguye que tras las biografías de los grandes personajes se esconden partidos y facciones que condicionan desde las sombras la orientación de todo un Estado. Roma no se erigió únicamente a partir de la voluntad de un individuo, sino que responde a una acción conjunta y, en ocasiones, menos evidente. Esta es la tesis principal del libro:

“En todas las edades, cualquiera que sea la forma del gobierno [...] detrás de la fachada se oculta una oligarquía, y la historia de Roma, republicana o imperial, es la historia de la clase gobernante”.

La libertas a la que republicanistas como Catón apelaron ante el advenimiento del nuevo régimen no aludía al inmaculable ideal proclamado en el juramento del Juego de Pelota. Más bien se trataba de un endeble recurso retórico abanderado en la defensa del statu quo que beneficiaba a una clase y perpetuaba sus privilegios. Pero la República romana experimentaba una muerte orgánica, resultado de las disputas entre dichas élites aristocráticas que venían desarrollándose desde época de Sila y Mario. Esta crisis fue acelerada por Julio César y culminada por Augusto, quien intensificó el proceso de perversión y depuración de las formas republicanas.

“Un Estado bien organizado no necesita de grandes hombres, ni tiene sitio para ellos. El siglo último de la República presenció una sucesión de individuos sorprendentes, síntomas de degeneración cívica y causa de desastre.”

El acceso de Augusto al poder supuso la irrupción política de los "novi homines" y otras clases sociales que ascendieron a expensas de la vieja aristocracia. Siguiendo la estela de César, el princeps consolidó un sistema basado en las lealtades personales y fidelidades obtenidas a partir de una redistribución de la riqueza. Entre la concesión arbitraria de honores, las proscripciones y el desarrollo del clientelismo, la Administración de Augusto adquirió un carácter marcadamente personalista.

“Con sus años, su nombre y su ambición, Octaviano no tenía nada que ganar de la concordia dentro del Estado, y sí, en cambio, todo del desorden”. Syme rechaza emprender una biografía convencional de Augusto para explicar el colapso del régimen republicano, pero sin la figura del Princeps la revolución romana resulta inconcebible. El autor no vacila en descubrir sus crímenes sanguinarios, otorgándole adjetivos que provienen de un juicio un tanto moralista, aunque simultáneamente reconociendo su astucia y acertada estrategia política.

Syme atribuye buena parte de los éxitos de Augusto a Agripa, Mecenas, Livia y a otros miembros de su círculo. A pesar de la indudable agencia de estos auxiliares, resulta difícil no sorprenderse ante el relato de la vida del primer emperador romano, un adolescente enfermizo que, a pesar de haberlo tenido todo en contra en más de una encrucijada, logró jugar hábilmente todas sus cartas. Syme acierta al señalar que el mayor triunfo de Augusto fue no ser indispensable. El régimen que consolidó demostró poseer la solidez suficiente como para sobrevivirle. Roma jamás volvería a ser una República.

Reseña más extensa (si cabe): https://llamargues.blogspot.com/2025/...

[Elliott · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a good book- a great book even. All interpretive history of Rome could be condensed to Gibbon and this book and shelves while lighter, would be no less rich. Five stars then.
Now that I've given this book its rightful due I do have my criticisms.
For its brilliance it is perhaps too smart for its own good. It is difficult to get past Syme in the classics department. His lens of the end of the Republic has not been changed in 80 years, and his narrative has been swallowed by popular culture.
This is of course no fault of Syme. The book had the (mis)fortune of being written and published concurrently with Weimar's Fall and Hitler's rise. The latter regime, as Italy, identified with all things Roman and certainly Syme's text became fused together as an angst amongst Western democracies that saw appeals to the poor as Augustan machinations, and Caesarian embryos. John Milius recently exploited this in his series Rome. All the Optimates are dour, aloof, and pudgy in a good humored Republican way. All the Populares are slick communicators, with a penchant for hidden sociopathy. Think of the latter as crude portrayals of the Hollywood left. With Syme you can easily find the portraiture that was used. This is not Syme's fault of course, just a tell as to how widespread his influence has been and who that is. He has crafted THE closing of every democratic society.
It should be noted however that Syme's analysis is not supported by the actual progression of history. His primary source is Tacitus and both befall the same problem of viewing history within a preconceived narrative, and backwards. Tacitus saw the hopelessness and precariousness of the plebes and criticized them for the hundreds of years of exploitation they had endured and had been locked into. Syme is gentler recognizing the limitations of the Republican government and how it was undone by its aloofness but still assumes that Augustus from the inexperienced teenager to the septuagenarian had a single authoritarian vision to realize. Syme, like Tacitus views it all backwards, as does the present era in appropriating his narrative. The problem is that the very real issues at the heart of the Republic's fall: income disparity, monopolies, exploitative labor practices, militarism, oligarchical power, deliberate moves to limit the franchise, and moneyed interests are accepted as proper and beyond control at least until one man either says differently (the Gracchi), or appropriates them himself (Augustus). The result is that rather than head off the issue by redistributing wealth for instance the focus is an absurd spotlight towards any potential Augustus'. Taking this to classics departments the spotlight is still on Augustus, ignoring these same issues in their historical contexts. Syme's book limits deeper study of Rome by investing its energies in a few figures at the expense of classes, labor relations, civic organisation and much more. Accordingly for all its very real brilliance this book does not provide a truly accurate history of the Republic's fall and it does not adequately answer the important "how," or "why."

[Steve · Rating 5 out of 5]

Capolavoro storico, si legge peraltro in modo quasi facile , scorrevole. Un lavoro forse di altri tempi (è del '36), ma ancora credo un riferimento assoluto per ricostruire la storia di quegli eventi , un tempo lontano ma poi così vicino a noi, dove uomini e donne posizionati in un altro tempo vivevano le relazioni, il potere il danaro, la politica, l'opulenza ...... molto interessante, consigliato.

[Peter Crouse · Rating 1 out of 5]

Learned yes, but extremely poor delivery. Filled with facts about obscure members of the senatorial elite who I really could care less about. Distractingly too many footnotes, most of which in untranslated Latin. The focus on oligarchic "factions" and party takeovers would certainly have resonated in the 1930s and 40s, but comes across today as being dated. This is the failed attempt of an academic study of the roman aristocracy trying to come across as popular history. Could not finish

[Francisco · Rating 4 out of 5]

Pesado, académico pero genial.

La lección que me llevo? No te preocupes mucho por los calificativos y nombres que usan tus políticos para el régimen que manejan. Mirá un poco más y te darás cuenta que detrás de tus repúblicas y democracias hay siempre una oligarquía que lleva la batuta.

Y que una revolución es simplemente el cambio de una oligarquía por otra. No importa como quiera llamarse.

[Alessandro Caravello · Rating 5 out of 5]

The best study you could find on Augustus' rise to power and how it drastically changed the Roman society. Syme's style is meticulously refined, almost reading out like a modern Tacitus and is a true delight.

[Vivianmorin · Rating 5 out of 5]

best book i've ever read

[Tom Ludwig · Rating 2 out of 5]

Too verbose

[Rosa]

Very powerful narrative that pays careful attention to crucial actors who are often treated as side characters in stories of the fall of the Republic. Lots of incisive and biting lines about the nature of history and government. Entertaining footnotes and index. Kind of a scary book to be reading at this moment in time, though.

Some highlights:
- “Cicero, speaking in the presence of Brutus, studiously suppresses his favourite topic, the failure to assassinate Antonius.” 99n4
- “It is an entertaining pursuit to speculate upon the subtleties of legal theory, or to trace from age to age the transmission of perennial maxims of political wisdom; it is more instructive to discover, in any time and under any system of government, the identity of the agents and ministers of power.” 325
- “When a party had triumphed in violence and seized control of the State, it would be plain folly to regard the new government as a collection of amiable and virtuous characters. Revolution demands and produces sterner qualities." 509

[Mathieu Totev · Rating 3 out of 5]

Honestly, this book really has to be for a niche that studies a specific period of the fall of Roman Republic. The amount of details and references is crazy and really heavy. Every page has like 10 unique names of unimportant people who cannot be remembered, so it is really hard to follow through. You could cut 80% of the book and you would probably remember more because there would be less confusion. A quality book, but really not for casual readers. Reading Roman Tacitus, Suetonius and Plutarch was easier and more interesting than this.

[C. Çevik · Rating 5 out of 5]

Muazzam bir çalışma.
Ronald Syme zamanında Türkiye'de, İstanbul Üniversitesi, Klasik Filoloji'de de bulunmuş bir otoritedir.

[Paul · Rating 5 out of 5]

not only the story of dives julius and divi filius, but that of bureaucracy, oligarchy, the way Roman society influenced its government.
written in a most engaging manner!

[Miranda Alford]

Not exactly the most exhilarating text, a little bit dense and some parts were a little bit unnecessary. But I'm pleased I've read it?? I think? Sense of achievement rather than actual use to me I think.

It was interesting to see that the political background of Syme's times influenced his opinions on the Roman republic. History never repeats itself huh?

[Ruth]

Yeah I "read" this...

No but yeah I can see why it's so popular. I just finished an essay critically analyzing this book and I can't be bothered. I'll update when I get my grade back :)

Update: Oof yeah, I did not understand this book at all. I got an 87 which is worse than my first attempt at a critical analysis so boo!! Seriously though, I sincerely don't know if I'm going to pass this class (I'm pretty sure I need an A to pass it)

[Tom Schulte · Rating 2 out of 5]

The "Roman Revolution" was more of years of civil war that seen a military despot (Julius Caesar) traded for August the autocrat; the war-like Roman city-state emerged from its bloody throes a domineering empire with a monarchy with not really much in the way of republican ideals.

Octavius was named in Caesar's will as his adopted son and heir, then known as Octavianus (Anglicized as Octavian). This author eschews that Anglicization even to the point of calling Mark Antony Marcus Antonius. All those -ius suffixes this Anglicized reader found wearying. Surely, the author is in the right here, as he obviously knows his Roman history in detail. He speeds through it like a fanboy reeling off Marvel Comics back stories of minor characters. Before I even absorb the fact there were 800 to a thousand senators at any one time during this period, he is off on the available details of the nearly lost career of some of them.

The story is told in three acts. Act I, Octavian, Mark Antony, and Marcus Lepidus formed the Second Triumvirate to defeat the assassins of Caesar. Act II: War! My copy has extensive marginalia from the previous reader, often about place names. It makes me realize this book needs some maps for the years of conflict about the Mediterranean.

Following their victory at the Battle of Philippi, the Triumvirate divided the Roman Republic among themselves and ruled as military dictators. The Triumvirate was eventually torn apart by the competing ambitions of its members. Lepidus was driven into exile and stripped of his position, and Antony committed suicide following his defeat at the Battle of Actium by Octavian in 31 BC. Actium, here, is shown to have nationalistic impact on developing the Roman identity like Yorktown for us. Because, this is as much about the unification of Italy and an identity for the entire peninsula as hub to the provinces.

Act III: Consolidation and establishment. After the demise of the Second Triumvirate, (now named) Augustus restored the outward façade of the free Republic, with governmental power vested in the Roman Senate, the executive magistrates, and the legislative assemblies. (So much for the rewards of revolution, but the weary populace and subjugated peoples were ready for a new godhead on the throne.) Princeps Civitatis ("First Citizen of the State") oversaw a constitutional framework became known as the Principate, the first phase of the Roman Empire.

[Billy · Rating 3 out of 5]

Learned work on the collapse of the Roman Republic from Caesar's demise in 44 BC, through Octavian's rise, the establishment of the Principate and concluding with Augustus' death in 14 AD.

This is not a work for the reader unfamiliar with Roman history and culture. If you don't understand the class divide between optimates and populares, none of it is going to make sense. There's also a presumption that you're familiar with the Sullan dictatorship and the various camps backing Sulla or Marius. More troubling is the vast amount of untranslated Latin and Greek in both the body of the text and the extensive footnotes. The book was published in the 1930s when presumably the intended audience was assumed to have more familiarity with those languages, but even so it's very annoying. It also points to a feature of the book which is to paraphrase observations made by Dio, Tacticus, Livy and other historians of the period. Probably better to just read Pliny in a good translation.

The work offers some interesting insights on politics in the Roman world, but it suffers from a sort of cheerleading on the part of the author for the party of Brutus or "the better cause" as it is often referred to. Yet, interspersed with this are pointed reminders that the Republic was in chaos because of men like Brutus who fought over the spoils of Empire and turned the Mediterranean into a battlefield to settle differences. After 500 pages of sneers at Octavian's hypocrisy, treachery and bloody perfidy, Syme acknowledges that the Republic could not endure and that as Augustus Octavian had brought peace to the Empire and security to the average man.

I also deducted a star because in this work that spans the Roman Empire from Spain to Armenia, there is not a single map to be found.