Università di Sassari
Sardinia in the Roman World until Constantine *
The work aims to renew the interpretation of the history of Sardinia, which is no longer to be seen as isolated, but rather well-inserted in the Roman ecumene. It is inspired most of all by a great master, Arnold Toynbee, and his masterpiece, Hannibal’s Legacy, which was published more than 50 years ago[1]. When Hannibal was born in Carthage (247 BC) the great Mediterranean island of Sardinia had been visited by the Carthaginians for centuries. His father Hamilcar had watch in horror from the sanctuary of Astarte in the city of Erice (Trapani) on the westernmost point of Sicily, as the Roman navy ambushed the Carthaginian fleet. On ships equipped with metallic rostrums they attacked the similarly equipped Carthaginians, after emerging from hiding behind the Aegadian islands (Levanzo)[2]. This led to a disastrous naval defeat resulting in the loss of Sicily, and three years later, following a revolt of the mercenaries, Sardinia as well.
If we are to give credence to Polybius, the Romans usurped Sardinia with dishonest means and unacceptable justifications. They occupied a vast, densely populated and fertile island, with no provocation whatsoever, many months after the treaty that ended the first Punic war. This is deemed to be the main cause for Hannibal’s war, which was waged as a direct result of the treacherous occupation of the towns, the land and the mines by mercenaries hired by the Romans. Exasperated, and suffering considerable personal financial loss, Amilcare convinced his son to take a vow of eternal hatred for Rome, perhaps in the sanctuary on the hill of Baal Hammon-Saturnus (on Djebel Bou Kornine) or in the tophet of Carthage.
Deprived of the “Island with the veins of silver” and having lost his latifundia and his mines, Amilcare decided to found a New Carthage at the entrance to a mine in the Iberian peninsula. It was from here that Hannibal is said to have departed on his mission to vindicate his father and the Carthaginians. Having occupied Sagunto, he invaded the territory of Marseilles, marched over the Alps and reached central and southern Italy, which was destined to be devastated by a long period of war. His real legacy was the devastation and widespread poverty of the following centuries, which provoked the Gracchi affair and later the civil wars.
Hannibal’s misfortunate ally in the Bellum Sardum was Hampsicora. From this moment onwards the myriad cultural, linguistic, institutional, juridical and economic remnants of the Palaeosardinians and Carthaginians contributed to the provoke incredible hostility on the part of the Romans. This was expressed by way of wanton destruction, the cutting down of entire forests, killings, and the capture of many Sardinians, among who in many cases, the structures of the local, prehistoric, Nuragic[3], Phoenician, Villanovan and Etruscan society and culture had survived. This was a culture that consisted of far more than the sole Punic experience and was by no means illiterate[4]. Instead, it was one that was endowed with a complexity and dignity that has received no recognition whatsoever.
Scholars have gone so far as to speak of a general depopulation and a veritable “demographic crisis” in some parts of the island that were laid waste by the armies that had decided to sever the bond that continued to unite the Sardinians with each other and with Carthage. This prompted the administrative reorganization (juridical and the borders between towns and peoples), the forced acculturation of the local principes, continuing with the consequent exploitation of resources and the profound environmental and cultural transformations. The gaze of the scholars has today become more penetrating and problematic, in relation to the many archaeological excavations, such as those carried out in Nora, Sulci, Olbia and Turris Libisonis, in particular, but also in the rural areas, such as Marrubiu, Mesumundu or Rebeccu, with attention being paid to public buildings, and those for shows, wellbeing and leisure.
Transformed into stipendiarii, the Sardinians were profoundly humiliated and were obliged to pay a stipendium to finance the occupying Roman troops from their own pockets. Thousands of Sardinians were taken prisoner, sold as slaves, or even killed. With the exclusion of the ancient Roman colony of Feronia, on the mouth of Rio Posada, which is dated to the start of the 4th c. BC, after the destruction of the African metropolis (146 BC) many territories in the island was colonised and occupied by soldiers and families that had arrived from Campania (the Patulcenses), Magna Grecia (the Euthichiani), Sicily (the Siculenses), from Corsica (the Corsi), Etruria (the Falisci), and then from Apulia (the sodales Buduntini), from Cirenaica (the Beronicenses) and from Africa (the Mauri). The agri, praedia, and even the metalla were then measured and allocated to colonialists from outside the island, with a very precise system of archive registration in the tabularia, the local and central land registry offices.
New towns were established, such as that of Valentia, by will of the consul Metellus in 115 BC, which after Augustus became the headquarters of a prefecture in the colony of Uselis. A large part of the territory became ager publicus populi Romani. We later now of many imperial latifundia, belonging to the res privata or to the patrimonium. Further income went to the aerarium of the Senate or the Imperial fiscus.
With the “second Roman occupation of Sardinia” (Marc Mayer), which took place after the military campaigns entrusted to the consuls and the proconsuls of the 2nd c. BC, Sardinia slowly started to enter the Roman sphere, also from a cultural point of view. Even in 54 BC, Cicero (in his Pro Scauro) ruled out that there were Roman towns or colonies on the island, or that there were towns that were friendly to the Roman people and were free and not under the yoke of military power. He spoke of a single natio Sarda, that pigeon-holed into a single group peoples that were easily distinguishable on the basis of appearance, dress, skin colour, language, political policies and traditions, such as the Sardi Pelliti, the Phoenicians and the Carthaginians. Arpinate deliberately omitted the colony founded by the populares in Corsica (Mariana) and the opposing one, Aleria “Veneria” founded by will of Sulla.
Yet even it was precisely Cicero who confirmed that a nucleus had survived that was above all cultural. It was able to absorb external cultures but also to transform the Italic immigrants, assimilating them with the natives, giving Sardinian culture in the Roman era a distinct and unique character in the Mediterranean. After all, in the Roman world the island was never part of Italy, but was rather a province located on the other side of a wide tract of sea, administered by magistrates, pro-magistrates or other types of governors (praetors, consuls, pro-consuls and functionaries endowed with military command, at times only civil functionaries of the higher echelons).
In this way it maintained its “speciality”, which can be read like filigree jewellery through the centuries, as the Roman governance was not always superimposed over the preceding local autonomy, in many cases these survived in a patchy fashion, with vast tracts of the rural areas that were abandoned by provincial power.
It was the populares, in particular Caesar and then Augustus, who initiated the process of “Romanisation”, which never completely eclipsed the local culture, but which became unstoppable, above all by way of the allotment of fertile lands, the reduction of colonies and the institutional promotion of the municipalities. A new image then emerged: that of the happy island (eudàimon), that was blessed with a mythical eukarpìa inhabited by the Nymphs of the sea and of the land (such as in the Numphàion limén and in the warm springs or in the rivers), a place without snakes, wolves or dangerous animals, free of poisonous plants, thanks to the protection of Diana and Sylvan, the gods of the mountain woods on the Montes Insani. On the coast, the name of Olbìa is testimony to the fact that the Greek sailors already saw the island as being a felicitous place.
According to Diodorus Siculus the peoples that lived there were still free in the era of Caesar, as freedom is the privilege of islanders[5]. We witness an extension of the latifundia of the large senatorial families (the Domitii in Olbia, the Bennii and the Herennii in Carales, many other clarissimi that we know from the instrumentum and from the sarcophagi)[6] as well as that of the Imperial estate.
However, a certain stability was arrived at in the era of the Antonine and the Severan dynasties, which led to an integration of the Sardinians into “Romanness”, to the diffusion of written culture, to access to the classical literary tradition, as is testified to by many elegant carmina[7] and artistic documents[8], to a recognition of the role of women, sibi sufficie(n)s[9], with profound changes in artistic taste. All this led above all to a perspective of multicultural co-existence and prompted considerable development, even though the Sardinian maintained their own specific identity and autonomous administration over vast districts[10]. At the same time, one should avoid idealising the Roman phase of the history of Sardinia, if for no other reason than that of the exaltation with which it was viewed in the past, and even today. It is true that it was certainly rich in innovation and new perspectives, providing an opening to Mediterranean horizons, but at the same time long shadows were cast by grave social injustice, such as the presence of slavery, which existed in varying forms for a millennium, the unequal distribution of wealth, the exaltation of imperialism, militarism and power.
This volume ends with Constantine, even though we know that the long Roman phase of the history of Sardinia did not end with the “peace of the church”, and it was almost eight centuries long, extending fully into that which we call the “Byzantine era”, the result of Constantine’s foundation of the New Rome. This was a very long period, rich in events, full of contradictions and cultural ferment emanating from the center towards the periphery, but also from the periphery towards the center. This was a process that greatly conditioned the successive phases of Sardinian history, from the era of the Giudici onwards, if these are to be truly considered “the last institutional descendants of the ancient Roman governors of the Imperial province”[11].
With this volume we will attempt to put to good use the lessons of many masters, starting from the necessity to explore the borders between “Romanisation” and cultural continuity (between Change and Continuity) to adopt Robert Rowland’s model, notably rectified by Peter van Dommelen, who underlined that the other face of the “Romanisation” coin was the persistence of Punic features in some realities of Republican Sardinia[12]. Indeed we must take into account the recent debate about the theme of “Romanisation” that has often appeared to be excessive and misleading, even reaching the point of denying the evidence[13]. The moment has perhaps arrived in which we can consider the complexity of cultural exchange to be a given, taking for granted “the absence of ‘pure’ cultures, the continuity and originality of local cultures even after the Roman conquest, as well as the different specificities of the provincial world, the national, ethnic and peripherical realities”[14]. The time has come for us to resist the easy temptation of adopting abstract interpretative categories and to define impossible unitary solutions, with contrived ideological models that do not always take into account the complexity of the issues at hand.
I would like to thank my friends and colleagues who have been very generous with me, in particular David Brett for his translation of this work, Antonio M. Corda (director of Unicapress), Paolo Maninchedda (director of the series Sardiniae memoria), Salvatore Naitana (ISSLA), Giacomo Spissu (Fondazione di Sardegna), Paola Ruggeri (Interdisciplanary Study Center on the Roman Provinces, University of Sassari), Rosana Pla Orquín (Scuola Archeologica Italiana di Cartagine) and Cambridge Scholars Publishing limited. However, it is important to remember that behind this book there is the passionate word in the field of many colleagues who work courageously on large scale projects that are ever more of an international level. Projects that allow us to view history, religious, myth and the Imperial cult in a light that we believe is truly original.
In the background of this book we can certainly see the experience that we carry within us, that of the history of the Roman provinces, starting from the lesson provided by our friend and teacher Joyce Reynolds (London 1918-Cambridge 1922), who I would like to remember today. She started to attend our Africa Romana conferences in Sassari, from the 4th meeting (December 1986) and was ever present up to the 20th conference in Alghero 2013, representing the Faculty of Classics, University of Cambridge.
I also met her in Britain, in Oxford in September 2007 on the occasion of the AIEGL Congress[15]. Over the years we have had many occasions to read her works and meet her students. Joyce Reynolds had many merits, especially that of facilitating communication between different generations. She did not oppose the digital revolution, but instead welcomed it. She opened up English epigraphic research of the Italian post-colonial phase in Libia to a vaster community of scholars in an international setting, where Italian archaeologists often worked beside her in an environment of mutual respect and appreciation.