A CRIMINAL HISTORY OF MANKIND

History (Book 5): ‘So began the first of the most wasteful and disastrous series of wars that has
ever darkened the history of mankind.’ He is convinced that this decision was the moral turning
point in Roman history - that it was the beginning of that epoch of slaughter, cruelty, vice and
betrayal that has made the name of Rome a synonym for decadence.
There is an element of simplification in this view - as if Rome were a character in a Victorian
melodrama who takes the ‘wrong turning’ and slips into vice and ruin. The tragedy of Rome was
more complex. The Romans were an eminently practical and sensible people - the compromises
between plebs and patricians show that. They lacked Greek subtlety and Greek intellectuality and,
unlike Alexander, were not even worried about the lack. Like some simple and good-tempered
country lad, they had the temperament to be happy and uncomplicated. The first Punic war (punic
meaning Phoenician), which dragged on for a quarter of a century and which almost brought Rome
to its knees, forced them to develop a new set of qualities: ruthless determination, intense
patriotism; above all, aggressiveness. And nations are like individuals: once they have developed
such qualities, they are stuck with them.
In 1935 a remarkable novel called No Mean City, by A. MacArthur and A. Kingsley Long was
published. It was about the Glasgow slums, of which the authors obviously had first-hand
knowledge. The title refers to St Paul’s ‘I am a citizen of no mean city’, and the novel is the story
of a simple and ordinary youth, Johnnie Stark, who is forced to learn the arts of self-defence, and
who is so successful that he becomes known as the ‘Razor king’. But this kind of success is in itself
a trap; like an actor who cannot escape a certain type of role, he is forced by the nature of his selfimage
to go on radiating aggression and violence. There is no way in which he can relax into a
more productive frame of mind. Inevitably, he dies in a street fight. Johnnie Stark is a symbol of
the Roman Empire.
Rome’s progress towards becoming the razor king of the Mediterranean began with setbacks. Rome
and Carthage were evenly matched; the war dragged on, and after twenty-four years both sides
were exhausted. It was Carthage that sued for peace; but Rome had lost two hundred thousand men
and five hundred ships. When the Carthaginian general Hamilcar conquered Spain, Rome was
piqued and alarmed to see its old rival back in business, and the two antagonists were soon squaring
up again.
This time, Hamilcar’s son Hannibal seized the initiative and invaded Italy across the Alps. For
years his successes were brilliant; he beat Roman army after Roman army. Most of southern Italy
came over to his side. But the Romans had a bulldog stubbornness. Their general, Fabius - the one
after whom the Fabian Society was named - took care to avoid battle, but concentrated on harassing
the invaders. Finally, the Roman Scipio carried the war back into North Africa, and Carthage was
once again obliged to sue for peace. Rome acquired Spain and settled down to enjoy its new
position as master of the Mediterranean.
The last act of the tragedy took place half a century later. Carthage was now a harmless
municipality, a city without an empire; the peace treaty with Rome did not even allow her to
possess an army. But like many conquered nations, she showed astonishing resilience, and was
soon as prosperous as ever. Rome now longed to see her enemy trampled into the dust; one old
statesman, Cato, used to conclude all his speeches in the senate - on whatever subject: ‘Carthage
must be destroyed.’ The trouble was to find a pretext; Carthage was now so obviously harmless.
And finally, for lack of anything better, the flimsiest of pretexts had to serve. Carthage’s neighbour,
Numidia - an ally of Rome - began making raids, and Carthage had to arm herself. Rome declared