Studies in Rhetoric & Communication

The Rhetoric of Augustan Rome

Kathleen S. Lamp

• Publisher: University of South Carolina Press
• Year: 2013
• ISBN:
  9781611173369
• Topic: Languages & Linguistics
• Subtopic: Rhetoric
• Index: Languages & Linguistics

In A City of Marble, Kathleen Lamp argues that classical rhetorical theory shaped the Augustan cultural campaigns and that in turn the Augustan cultural campaigns functioned rhetorically to help Augustus gain and maintain power and to influence civic identity and participation in the Roman Principate (27 b. c. e.—14 c. e.).

Lamp begins by studying rhetorical treatises, those texts most familiar to scholars of rhetoric, and moves on to those most obviously using rhetorical techniques in visual form. She then arrives at those objects least recognizable as rhetorical artifacts, but perhaps most significant to the daily lives of the Roman people—coins, altars, wall painting. This progression also captures the development of the Augustan political myth that Augustus was destined to rule and lead Rome to greatness as a descendant of the hero Aeneas.

A City of Marble examines the establishment of this myth in state rhetoric, traces its circulation, and finally samples its popular receptions and adaptations. In doing so, Lamp inserts a long-excluded though significant audience—the common people of Rome—into contemporary understandings of rhetorical history and considers Augustan culture as significant in shaping civic identity, encouraging civic participation, and promoting social advancement.

Lamp approaches the relationship between classical rhetoric and Augustan culture through a transdisciplinary methodology drawn from archaeology, art and architectural history, numismatics, classics, and rhetorical studies. By doing so, she grounds Dionysius of Halicarnassus's claims that the Principate represented a renaissance of rhetoric rooted in culture and a return to an Isocratean philosophical model of rhetoric, thus offering a counterstatement to the "decline narrative" that rhetorical practice withered in the early Roman Empire. Thus Lamp's work provides a step toward filling the disciplinary gap between Cicero and the Second Sophistic.

1

AUGUSTUS’S RHETORICAL SITUATION

The principate, the era marked by the sole rule of Augustus, spans from 31 B.C.E. to 14 C.E., standing as the transitional period between the Roman republic and empire.¹ By the end of 31 B.C.E., the often romanticized chaos that inspired Shakespeare and still captivates modern audiences through television shows such as HBO’s Rome—the assassination of Julius Caesar, the rise of a young Octavian, the proscription of Cicero by the Second Triumvirate, the vanquishing of the conspirators, several civil wars, and Antonius and Cleopatra’s dalliance and defeat—was the stuff of history, even if that history was still being written.

There is a tendency to believe that by 31 B.C.E., and certainly no later than 23 B.C.E., Augustus had gained “real” power and that what followed was little more than window dressing. Octavian’s struggle was over by 31 B.C.E., but the would-be Augustus’s struggle for power was only just beginning. He was left in precisely the same position that ended in the demise of Julius Caesar: ruling Rome when it was forbidden for a single man to do so. Yet, to define Augustus’s rhetorical exigence simply as legitimizing his rule is to classify it too narrowly. More broadly, Augustus had to create a new system of government to replace the failed republic, to define practices of citizenship, and to do so in a way that was not only acceptable to but popular with the people.

While Augustan rhetoric can be viewed as a response to developing exigencies over the period of his rule, the most significant of which occurred upon Augustus gaining sole power in 31 B.C.E., Augustus’s rhetorical situation must be clarified in light of the historical, political, social, and mythic history of the city of Rome before the situation of rhetoric in the principate can be examined.

SOCIAL AND POLITICAL CONTEXTS

A complex tangle of conditions contributed to the fall of the Roman republic: the economic practices of the few created a situation characterized by expansionist warfare, the lack of a landed middle-class, the rise of urban poor, a large slave population, a populace without representation, the need for a standing military that in turn became loyal only to their leader and required land as payment for service, not to mention problems with the grain supply and pirates. Though there were probably other ways out of these problems, the continuation of the republic in its existing form was likely not one of them. Divergence between the two parties, the optimates, or “constitutional party,” and the populares, sometimes referred to as the “democratic party,” who claimed to hold the people’s interest, led to what amounted to (pseudo) class conflicts that were easily and inevitably wielded for political purposes.² Conflicts began in earnest shortly after the Punic Wars ended (around 125 B.C.E.) among powerful, seemingly charismatic men who harnessed, more often than not, enormous resources, financial and military; the support of their parties; and, often, rhetorical skill, which eventually led to the civil wars.

It was Octavian, for better or worse, who finally ended the conflict (though he caused much of it as well) after he defeated Antonius at Actium in 31 B.C.E. Syme’s foundational work The Roman Revolution is dedicated to the principate and characterizes Augustus’s rise to sole power in the context of party politics: “However talented and powerful in himself, the Roman statesman cannot stand alone, without allies, without a following. … The rule of Augustus was the rule of a party, and in certain aspects his principate was a syndicate.”³ Though Augustus’s rule was very much the product of the political parties at Rome, the title of Syme’s book indicates that Augustus’s rise to power was revolutionary: “in the Revolution the power of the old governing class was broken, its composition transformed. Italy and the nonpolitical orders in society triumphed over Rome and the Roman aristocracy.”⁴ Still, this “revolution,” such as it was, should not be seen as the end of Roman democracy, for to see it that way implies there was democracy in the first place. The Roman republic was not a glorious and free age where all a great statesman needed was the power of his voice.⁵ Significantly, the voices of Roman statesman often did more harm than good.⁶

Though the principate is frequently thought of as the death blow to the Roman republic, it is clear that what brought about Augustus’s reign started much earlier, and these circumstances both enabled and constrained Augustan rhetoric. The turmoil and bloodshed of the civil and social wars, for example, enabled what would be Augustus’s defining term—peace—a term that was rhetorically powerful only because of what had preceded Augustus’s reign. Rome had endured a great deal in the hundred-plus years between the end of the Punic Wars and 31 B.C.E. The conflict began between the Roman political parties, the optimates and populares, with the legislation of the Gracchi, eventually culminating in all-out civil war.⁷ The first bout of civil war, led by Sulla and Marius, spanned from 85 to 82 B.C.E. and decimated much of Italy.⁸ Abutting the period of terror of the civil wars were the Social Wars, which lasted from 90 to 88 B.C.E. and began because of the allies’ desire for enfranchisement; and the Slave War, an uprising of slaves led by Spartacus from 73 to 71 B.C.E. Interspersed in this domestic chaos were the foreign wars against Mithradates in the East.

After the first bout of civil wars, the rivalry between the optimates and populares continued, though the party lines blurred considerably with Gnaeus Pompey, better known as Pompey the Great. The people were eventually led by Julius Caesar, a relative of Marius. Two other men prominent in rhetorical history joined the fray at this time, Catiline, a member of the patrician class who became a leader of the populares, and Cicero, a “new man” who rose to the forefront of the optimates. The former plotted “revolution”; the latter uncovered the plot and prosecuted the “traitors.”⁹ In 60 B.C.E., Crassus, Caesar, and Pompey formed the First Triumvirate, a political power-sharing arrangement that seemed in the best interest of all (though it did not last long).¹⁰ Caesar assumed sole power as a dictator in 46 B.C.E. and welcomed his enemies, including Cicero, back to Rome (rather than proscribing them) only to be assassinated himself on March 15, 44 B.C.E., by a faction of the senatorial party led by Cassius and Marcus and Decimus Brutus.¹¹ Though the Senate’s reign of power continued, the real contest was over who would succeed Caesar. The most prominent contender was Antonius.¹²

Eventually Antonius, Octavian, and Lepidus formed the Second Triumvirate and immediately proscribed their enemies, which led to the death of many, including Cicero. The Triumvirate successfully defeated the “conspirators” at Philippi in 42 B.C.E.¹³ The proscriptions were a terrifying and bloody time. Classical historian Colin Wells has estimated that at least 130 senators were exiled and an unknown number of equestrians were exiled or killed and their property seized.¹⁴ Still there was no stability to be found. With Lepidus in exile, what was left of the agreement between Antonius and Octavian dissolved in 32 B.C.E. and civil war broke out. Octavian finally defeated Antonius and Cleopatra at the battle of Actium in 31 B.C.E., after which both committed suicide.

The significance of the turmoil for the Roman citizens in the late republic was fundamental for their acceptance of the principate. The violence of civil and social wars, slave revolts, proscriptions, and land seizures took a toll on many famous Romans—Cicero, most notably, but Virgil had property confiscated as did Horace’s family.¹⁵ The populace was, no doubt, as Tacitus claims, “so desperate for peace that “they preferred the safety of the present to the dangerous past.”¹⁶ Augustus both promised and delivered peace (at least on the home front), but “peace” was also a valuable rhetorical strategy; as Cicero had demonstrated before his death, to reference the bloodshed of the past, however covertly, was to emphasize the prosperity of the present.¹⁷

To whatever degree Augustan rhetoric was enabled by the relative peace that followed the battle of Actium in 31 B.C.E., it was constrained, at least to the same extent, as Dio explains, in that the “Romans hated the actual name of monarch so vehemently that they did not refer to their emperors either as dictators or kings.”¹⁸ Of course this left Augustus in a rather tight spot, as Kennedy argues; “although not a distinguished public speaker, [Augustus] … had a profound understanding of the rhetoric of empire. A variety of titles and religious forms were used to mask the reality of his power; art, architecture, inscription, and urban planning conveyed the aura of a new golden age.”¹⁹ However, seeing the challenge before Octavian in 31 B.C.E. as one readily met by deception overlooks the very real dependence of Augustus’s reign on its acceptance by and popularity with the Roman people, and, as such, dismisses both the significance of Augustan rhetoric and the will of the populace.

That popularity was gained on multiple fronts and often simply required meeting the material needs of the people, which was then publicized and used to Augustus’s rhetorical advantage. It also meant considering and addressing popular sentiment as to why the republic had failed, which generally amounted to a belief in a “failure to adhere to a traditional value system that places the common good, the res publica, ahead of private interests.” As such, “the Augustan solution, therefore, was a conscious return to and rearticulating of these basic values and principles.”²⁰ Finally, given that Rome was very much in need of new oversight, Augustus’s administration sought “to have as many people as possible participate in the life of the state.”²¹ Classicist Karl Galinsky is quick to point out this was not “democratization” as such, but it was also a long way from the tyranny often associated with the age.²² While attempts to gain acceptance for the principate were “rhetorical” in that they represented a type of persuasive communication between the people and the government about the workings of the state, more often than not this communication was a negotiation of a definition of a “good” government and citizen, debatably the goal of rhetorical practice since at least the fifth century B.C.E.

THE OLD MYTHS: ROMAN FOUNDING MYTHS AND THE JULIAN LINE

History, society, and politics might seem to be the most significant contexts for understanding Augustan rhetoric, but the mythic history of the city provides a powerful context for understanding Augustan rhetoric. For Romans, the distinction between myth and history was not particularly clear-cut. For example, Quintilian describes three types of narratives: “fictitious,” “realistic,” and “historical,”²³ the last of “which contains the narration of actual events.”²⁴ Though mythic history to contemporary audiences would seem to fall outside historical narrative, Quintilian clearly places such narratives in this category, mentioning Romulus and the She-wolf as an example.²⁵ Myth, nonetheless, played a significant role in constraining the available means of governing the city as well as how Augustus could promote his reign, and ultimately provided a significant, if not the most significant, rhetorical strategy for justifying the principate.

Three different Roman myths affected the political beliefs of the citizens of Rome and in turn constrained the ways in which Augustus could present his rule to the public: the Aeneas myth, the myth of Romulus and Remus, and the tale of the expulsion of the kings from Rome. The first two myths were the traditional founding stories of Rome, both of which Augustus referenced in his state-sponsored rhetoric; the latter served as an impediment in the minds of the people to accepting Augustus’s rule. No doubt the Aeneas myth, as composed by Virgil, trumped the others after the principate, forming the basis of the new political myth of Augustus.

Aeneas

Aeneas is mentioned in various Greek and Roman sources with the basic story as follows:²⁶Aeneas, the son of Anchises and ...

Table of contents

• Cover page
• Title Page
• Copyright page
• Dedication
• Contents
• List of Illustrations
• Series Editor’s Preface
• Acknowledgments
• Introduction: A City of Brick
• 1 Augustus’s Rhetorical Situation
• 2 Seeing Rhetorical Theory
• 3 The Augustan Political Myth
• 4 Let Us Now Praise Great Men
• 5 Coins, Material Rhetoric, and Circulation
• 6 The Augustan Political Myth in Vernacular Art
• 7 (Freed)men and Monkeys
• Conclusion: A New Narrative
• Notes
• Bibliography
• Index
• About the Author