Article contents
DIODORUS SICULUS’ ‘SLAVE WAR’ NARRATIVES: WRITING SOCIAL COMMENTARY IN THE BIBLIOTHĒKĒ
Published online by Cambridge University Press: 08 November 2018
Extract
Diodorus Siculus has not enjoyed a positive reputation among historians of antiquity. Since the nineteenth century his Bibliothēkē has been dismissed as a derivative work produced by an incompetent compiler, useful often only in so far as one can mine his text for lost and, evidently, far superior works of history. Diodorus’ own input into the Bibliothēkē has been dismissed as the clumsy intervention of ‘a small man with pretensions’. In one of the sharpest expressions of the traditional view, Diodorus is not a historian but ‘a mere epitomizer and an incompetent one at that’. In recent years voices of dissent have spoken up, determined to investigate Diodorus’ own contribution to ancient historiography. Their contributions have been notable for their desire to study and understand Diodorus on his own terms or to problematize his derivative use of his sources. Sacks, in particular, has argued that Diodorus’ voice can be heard in nearly every proem, a feature that occurs regularly in the text, and that Diodorus’ own views structure his analysis of historical events copied from other authors.
- Type
- Research Article
- Information
- Copyright
- Copyright © The Classical Association 2018
Footnotes
I would like to thank Ulrike Roth, Andrew Morrison, Lisa Hau, Alexander Meeus, Piotr Wozniczka, Benjamin Pedersen, Nicole Cleary and the anonymous reader at CQ for their help in improving this article. I would also like to thank the audiences at the Manchester Classics and Ancient History Research Seminar and the Classical Association Conference 2016 for their feedback on earlier versions of this article. The mistakes remain my own.
References
1 See e.g. Volquardsen, C.A., Untersuchungen über die Quellen der griechischen und sicilischen Geschichten bei Diodor, Buch XI bis XVI (Kiel, 1868)Google Scholar; Soltau, W., Römische Chronologie (Freiburg, 1889)Google Scholar; E. Schwartz, ‘Diodoros (38)’, RE V.i (1903), cols. 663–704, at col. 663; Schäfer, H., Von ägyptischer Kunst (Leipzig, 1930 3), 350–1Google Scholar (quoting a letter from Wilamowitz). More recently, see e.g. Hornblower, J., Hieronymus of Cardia (Oxford, 1981), 28Google Scholar; Murray, O., ‘Hecataeus of Abdera and pharaonic kingship’, JEA 56 (1970), 141–71Google Scholar; Murray, O., ‘Review of: A. Burton, Diodorus Siculus, Book I: A Commentary (E.J. Brill: Leiden, 1972)’, JHS 95 (1975), 214–15CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Stylianou, P.J., A Historical Commentary on Diodorus Siculus, Book 15 (Oxford, 1998)Google Scholar. For commentary on this tradition, see Green, P., Diodorus Siculus: Books 11–12.37.1 (Austin, 2006), 1–34Google Scholar. The text of Diodorus used throughout is that of the Budé: Goukowsky, P., Diodore de Sicile. Bibliotheque historique. Fragments. Livres XXXIII–XL (Paris, 2014)Google Scholar; the numeration of the text follows that in Walton, F.R., Diodorus of Sicily, vol. 12 (Cambridge, 1976)Google Scholar; the translations are my own.
2 Nock, A.D., ‘Posidonius’, JRS 49 (1959), 1–15Google Scholar, at 5.
3 Stylianou (n. 1), 49.
4 For works interested in Diodorus as an author: Burton, A., Diodorus Siculus, Book I: A Commentary (Leiden, 1972)CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Sacks, K., ‘The lesser prooemia of Diodorus Siculus’, Hermes 110 (1982), 434–43Google Scholar; Sacks, K., Diodorus Siculus and the First Century (Princeton, 1990)CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Sacks, K., ‘Diodorus and his sources’, in Hornblower, S. (ed.), Greek Historiography (Oxford, 1994), 213–32Google Scholar; T. Matsubara, ‘Diodorus Siculus on the Late Roman Republic’ (Diss., Edinburgh University, 1998); Rubincam, C.I.R., ‘Did Diodorus Siculus take over cross-references from his sources?’, AJPh 119 (1998), 67–87Google Scholar; Rubincam, C.I.R., ‘New approaches to the study of Diodorus facilitated by electronic texts’, MediterrAnt 1 (1998), 505–13Google Scholar; Bosworth, A.B., ‘Plus ça change … ancient historians and their sources’, ClAnt 22 (2003), 167–97Google Scholar; Green (n. 1); Hau, L.I., ‘Diodorus of Sicily (32.2 and 4) and Polybius’, C&M 57 (2006), 67–102Google Scholar; Yarrow, L.M., Historiography at the End of the Republic: Provincial Perspectives on Roman Rule (Oxford, 2006)CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Sulimani, I., ‘Diodorus’ source citations. A turn in the attitude of ancient authors towards their predecessors?’, Athenaeum 96 (2008), 535–67Google Scholar; Hau, L.I., ‘The burden of good fortune in Diodorus of Sicily’, Historia 58 (2009), 171–97Google Scholar; Bissa, E., ‘Diodorus' good statesman and state revenue’, in Liddel, P. and Fear, A. (edd.), Historiae Mundi. Studies in Universal History (London, 2010), 56–70Google Scholar; Sheridan, B., ‘Diodorus’ reading of Polybius’ universalism’, in Liddel, P. and Fear, A. (edd.), Historiae Mundi. Studies in Universal Historiography (London, 2010), 41–55Google Scholar; Muntz, C.E., ‘The sources of Diodorus Siculus, Book 1’, CQ 61 (2011), 574–94CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Baron, C.A., Timaeus of Tauromenium and Hellenistic Historiography (Cambridge, 2012)CrossRefGoogle Scholar. Very recently four important works have been published that focus on Diodorus and/or the broader historiographical tradition within which he wrote: Hau, L., Moral History from Herodotus to Diodorus Siculus (Edinburgh, 2016)CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Rathmann, M., Diodor und seine ‘Bibliotheke’. Weltgeschichte aus der Provinz (Berlin, 2016)CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Muntz, C.E., Diodorus Siculus and the World of the Late Republic (Oxford, 2017)CrossRefGoogle Scholar; and Stronk, J.P., Semiramis’ Legacy: The History of Persia according to Diodorus of Sicily (Edinburgh, 2017)CrossRefGoogle Scholar. These four works emphasize, in different ways, the importance of understanding Diodorus as an author in his own right. See also the forthcoming publication of the papers presented at the international conference held in Glasgow titled Diodorus Siculus: Shared Myths, World Community and Universal History.
5 Sacks (n. 4 [1990]).
6 See e.g. Sacks (n. 4 [1990]), 142–5; Yarrow (n. 4); Pittia, S., ‘Diodore et l'histoire de la Sicile républicaine’, DHA. Supplément n. 6 (2011), 171–226CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Dowden, K., ‘Poseidonios (87)’, Worthington, I. (ed.), Brill's New Jacoby (Brill Online, 2015)Google Scholar. However, see Dumont, J.C., Servus. Rome et l'esclavage sous la République (Rome, 1987), 201–3Google Scholar and more recently Pfuntner, L., ‘Reading Diodorus through Photius: the case of the Sicilian slave revolts’, GRBS 55 (2015), 256–72Google Scholar for important reminders of the key role played by the transmission of these narratives in Photius’ Myriobiblion and the Constantinian Excerpta Historica.
7 Ath. Deipn. 12.59.21–9. This passage is verbally similar to Diod. Sic. 34/35.2.34. For discussion of this passage ‘confirming’ the Posidonian origin of Diodorus’ narrative, see Malitz, J., Die Historien des Poseidonios (Munich, 1983), 37Google Scholar; Theiler, W., Poseidonios: die Fragmente. Vol. 2. Erläuterungen (Berlin, 1982)CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Momigliano, A., Alien Wisdom: The Limits of Hellenization (Cambridge, 1975), 33–4CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Laffranque, M., Poseidonios d'Apamée (Paris, 1964), 119 n. 43, 147–8Google Scholar; Brunt, P.A., ‘On historical fragments and epitomes’, CQ 30 (1980), 477–94CrossRefGoogle Scholar, at 486; Ambaglio, D., ‘Introduzione alla Biblioteca storica di Diodoro’, in Ambaglio, D., Landucci, F. and Bravi, L. (edd.), Diodoro Siculo: Biblioteca storica. Commento storico. Introduzione generale (Milan, 2008), 3–102Google Scholar, at 27. The most extreme view regarding Diodorus’ reliance on Posidonius is that held by Bradley, K.R., Slavery and Rebellion in the Roman World, 140 b.c. – 70 b.c. (Bloomington, 1989), 133–6Google Scholar, in which he states that Posidonius was the source for Diodorus, and that, ‘if [Diodorus] followed his usual methodological procedures when using [Posidonius], [Diodorus’] account of the slave wars could be assumed to be reasonably accurate, reliable, and comprehensive’. Urbainczyk, T., Slave Revolts in Antiquity (Stocksfield, 2008), 82–3Google Scholar, with due reference to the work of Sacks (n. 4 [1990]), acknowledged that, while the principal source was most likely Posidonius, elements of the narrative may well have been Diodoran in origin. Stronk (n. 4), 76–7 is wary of assuming too much from these two passages. The following all believe Posidonius to be the principal source and that his narrative can be understood via Diodorus: W.G. Forrest and Stinton, T.W.C., ‘The first Sicilian slave war’, P&P 22 (1962), 87–92Google Scholar, at 88; Vogt, J., Sklaverei und Humanität: Studien zur antiken Sklaverei und ihrer Erforschung (Wiesbaden, 1965), 21Google Scholar; Verbrugghe, G.P., ‘Slave rebellion or Sicily in revolt?’, Kokalos 20 (1974), 46–60Google Scholar, at 54; Shaw, B.D., Spartacus and the Slave Wars: A Brief History with Documents (Boston, 2001), 27CrossRefGoogle Scholar.
8 See Sacks (n. 4, [1990]), 142–54 and Yarrow (n. 4), 221–4, 271–3 and 337–9. On intratextuality, see Sharrock, A., ‘Intratextuality: texts, parts, and (w)holes in theory’, in Sharrock, A. and Morales, H. (edd.), Intratextuality: Greek and Roman Textual Relations (Oxford, 2000), 1–39Google Scholar, esp. 1–16.
9 This is not to suggest that individual components of the narrative cannot have their own framework. For an example of separate framing that is embedded into the story of the first war, see the discussion of Eunus in Morton, P., ‘Eunus: the cowardly king’, CQ 63 (2013), 237–52CrossRefGoogle Scholar.
10 See Pfuntner (n. 6), 257 and 268–70. Goukowsky (n. 1), 43–5 has argued that the material pertaining to the first Sicilian ‘Slave War’ ought to be placed in Book 34. On this arrangement, see also Mileta, C., ‘Verschwörung oder Eruption? Diodor und die byzantinischen Exzerptoren über den ersten Sizilischen Sklavenkrieg’, in Collatz, C.-F., Dummer, J. and Welitz, M.-L. (edd.), Dissertatiunculae criticae. Festschrift für Günther Christian Hansen (Würzburg, 1998a), 133–54Google Scholar and id., ‘Quellenkritische Beobachtungen zur Vorgeschichte und zur Natur der sizilischen Sklavenkriege in den Diodor-Fragmenten’, in Haider, P.W. and Amann, P. (edd.), Akten des 6. österreichischen Althistorikertages, 21–23.11.1996, Institut für alte Geschichte der Universität Innsbruck (Innsbruck, 1998b), 91–112Google Scholar.
11 ἐξ ὧν ἁπάντων αὐξανομένης ἐπ’ ἴσης τῆς τε κατὰ τῶν οἰκετῶν κακουχίας καὶ τῆς κατὰ τῶν δεσποτῶν ἀλλοτριότητος, ἐρράγη ποτὲ σὺν καιρῷ τὸ μῖσος, ‘because of this, and since the mistreatment of the slaves and their estrangement from their masters increased equally, there was, when opportune, a general outburst of hatred’.
12 For K. Dowden's argument, see BNJ 87 F 108b. See also Gorman, R. and Gorman, V., Corrupting Luxury in Ancient Greek Literature (Ann Arbor, 2014), 424–5CrossRefGoogle Scholar, who also argue that this language comes from Posidonius. For the instances of τρυφή (‘luxury’), see Diod. Sic. 34/35.2.26, 34 and 35. See also Sacks (n. 4 [1990]), 46–52 for an extended analysis of τρυφή within Diodorus. Sacks argues that the term is not indicative of Diodoran thought. Gorman and Gorman (this note) and Morgan, J., Greek Perspectives on the Achaemenid Empire: Persia through the Looking Glass (Edinburgh, 2016)Google Scholar argue that this use of τρυφή as a topos developed in the Late Republic.
13 P. Wozniczka, ‘A new preface from Diodoros’ universal history (Book 34)?’, presented at The First Meeting of the Diodorus Network, University of Glasgow, 9 December 2016.
14 This passage echoes another passage in Book 32 of the Bibliothēkē, in which Diodorus discusses how best to maintain an empire once it is won. In that passage (32.2) the importance of ἐπιείκεια (‘fairness’) and φιλανθρωπία is underscored. Sacks (n. 4 [1990]), 51–2 described this particular passage as part of Diodorus’ ‘schema’ for historical analysis.
15 See Diod. Sic. 34/35.2.10, 34, 35, 37, 38 for Damophilus’ ὑπερηφανία, 34/35.2.35 for his ὕβρις, 34/35.2.37 for punishments without just cause (ἐπ’ αἰτίαις οὐ δικαίαις) and 34/35.2.37 for his wife's ὑπερήφανοι (‘arrogant’) punishments.
16 See Diod. Sic. 34/35.2.39. We might also note that Diodorus frequently intervenes in his narrative in order to praise women: see Sacks (n. 4 [1990]), 30.
17 See Sacks (n. 4 [1990]), 42–6 and 78–9. See above (p. 4) for Dowden's view that some of these terms can be seen as Posidonian.
18 Diodorus’ praise of Gelon is remarkable, so much so that Stylianou (n. 1), 53 called it ‘extravagant’. Gelon is commended (1.67.2–3) for acting ἐπιεικῶς and that his reward was to live peacefully until his death. See below, n. 20, for the contrast between Gelon and his sons. Cyrus is likewise extolled (9.24.1) for treating his subjects with φιλανθρωπία, and his qualities marked him out for greatness (9.22.1).
19 ὑπερηφανία and ἐπιείκεια: 1.60.1–3 (comparing Amasis and Actisanes); 3.65.1–2 (Dionysus); 11.70.3 (the Athenian empire); 17.66.6 (Alexander the Great); 27.16.2 (correct behaviour after victory). ὑπερηφανία and φιλανθρωπία: 13.24.6–13.25.1, 13.30.3, 13.30.7 (speech regarding Athenians); 15.30.3 (Neogenes); 15.31.1 (Sparta); 23.15.1–2 (Atilius).
20 See 3.54.5–6 (Myrina); 3.61.4 (Zeus); 5.34.1 (Celtiberians); 11.67.3 (Gelon, contrasted with his sons who are greedy and violent, creating a revolt in Syracuse: 11.67.3–6); 12.76.2 (Sparta's actions towards allies); 18.14.1 (Ptolemy's actions in Egypt); 18.18.6–8 (programmatic statement); 18.33.3–5 (Ptolemy and Perdicas); 27.6.2 (Scipio's treatment towards Syphax); 27.18.1 (comment on those who attack ἐπιείκεια and φιλανθρωπία); 30.23.2 (Aemilius’ actions towards Perseus); 31.32a (Syrian people desire these qualities); 32.2 (use of these qualities to extend empire); 32.4 (praise of Philip II, Alexander the Great and the Romans for these qualities); 37.10.2 (praise of the Drusi).
21 See also Sacks (n. 4 [1990]), 52–3 and 78–80 for discussion of these terms within the Bibliothēkē.
22 Within the second war-narrative proper there are only two Constantinian excerpts (36.9.2 and 36.11). One more fragment describes the failed uprising attempted by T. Vettius somewhere in Italy near Capua that preceded the second Sicilian ‘Slave War’ (36.2a).
23 See Diod. Sic. 36.3.2 for the senatorial decision. Nicomedes’ claim is unlikely to be entirely true, not least because Bithynian soldiers are recorded fighting as allies for Rome within a year of the request (Diod. Sic. 36.5.4, 36.8.1) and were fighting the year before in Paphlagonia (Just. Epit. 37.4.3). Rubinsohn, W.Z., ‘Some remarks on the causes and repercussions of the so-called “second slave revolt” in Sicily’, Athenaeum 60 (1982), 436–51Google Scholar, at 444–7 has discussed the chronology of the embassy to Nicomedes and the political backdrop against which Nicomedes’ response to Rome ought to be viewed.
24 A similar interpretation can be found in Dio (27.93.1–3). In Dio's version the larger Mediterranean context may have been ignored, unless Dio's comment that the governor acted because he had learned ὅτι οὐκ ἐν δίκῃ τινὰ περὶ τοὺς δούλους (‘that the slaves were not justly treated in some manner’) is a reference to the senatorial decree in Diodorus; the fragmentary nature of Dio's text at this point makes certainty impossible. None the less, in Dio's version the governor's actions still receive censure, in large part because he meddled incompetently with master/slave relations on the island and stirred up conflict and banditry on the island—the narrative is in essence a discourse on good and bad government.
25 See Diod. Sic. 36.8.2–5. In a later passage (36.9.2), Diodorus records that there were suspicions in Rome that Lucullus had deliberately failed in his task in order to exacerbate the war and, it is assumed, increase the potential for his own glory. Brennan, T.C., The Praetorship in the Roman Republic, 2 vols. (Oxford, 2000), 479Google Scholar suggested that Lucullus hoped to be prorogued for 102 b.c.
26 See Flor. 2.7.11 for the capture of the camps. Urbainczyk (n. 7), 59 contends that it is ‘entirely plausible’ that the Romans were in fact ‘unequal to the task of fighting the slaves’. Though this may have been the case in reality, Diodorus’ text is clear in attributing rebel success to Roman incompetence and corruption.
27 Yarrow (n. 4), 271–2 and 338–9 also notes the interest in these narratives in the importance of good leadership.
28 Sacks (n. 4 [1990]), 52 noted that the emphasis on ‘kind actions bring(ing) loyalty, harsh ones rebellion’ could be understood as ‘a warning to Rome’. See also Sacks (n. 4 [1990]), 53, where he describes Diodorus as a ‘Greek living within the Roman Empire and feeling devoid of practical power’. Yarrow (n. 4) 155 described Rome as ‘essential not only to Diodorus’ structure, but also to his conceptual understanding of the world he lived in’. She also notes ([n. 4], 347–8) that Diodorus wrote for both Romans and Greeks, and sought to explain the Romans to the Greeks. Sheridan (n. 4), 50–1 has argued that Diodorus’ Bibliothēkē, by placing Rome's history into a broader context that included the rise and fall of other empires, implicitly offers a comment on the potential for Roman imperial longevity. On the importance of Rome to Diodorus’ work, see now also Rathmann (n. 4), 304.
29 For the ‘Slave War’ narratives themselves, see Urbainczyk (n. 7), 87: ‘The implications are quite clear: if masters treated their slaves well, and if Romans were merciful to their subjects, they would be loved and not hated.’
30 Muntz (n. 4 [2017]), 232–47.
31 This is most clearly expressed at 34/35.2.33, but the essential components of the analogy underlie the narratives of both wars, as we have seen above.
32 See Sacks (n. 4 [1990]), 191–203 for the extended argument that Diodorus changed even his terminal date to avoid discussing events after 60, perhaps in part because Diodorus was increasingly critical of Octavian's treatment of Sicily during the Civil Wars. On the importance of the context of what was happening in Rome to Diodorus’ text and the publication of his work, see now Muntz (n. 4 [2017]), 215–21 and 232–46.
33 See Green (n. 1), 2–7 for an overview of Diodorus’ life as well as a reminder that Diodorus’ pronouncements on his life deserve attention; see also Muntz (n. 4 [2017]), 217–21 and Stronk (n. 4), 3–5. Stylianou (n. 1), 21 argues that Diodorus’ claims about his compositional method and timescale ‘are not to be countenanced’ since the Bibliothēkē ‘is entirely derivative and Diodorus’ methods slipshod, so much so that the entire work could have been dashed off in a very few years’. Stylianou notes that Dio Cassius wrote eighty books in twelve years, although it must be conceded that Dio first spent ten years researching (73.23.5). Moreover, it is not convincing that Diodorus is lying about the period of composition because Dio wrote faster—not all historians are blessed with the same ability to compose at speed, and men are not machines that work at a set pace.
34 For the foundations in 21 b.c., see RG 28, Plin. HN 3.88–90, Dio Cass. 54.7.1, Strabo 6.2.3–43. For the dating of the colonia at Tauromenium, see Wilson, R.J.A., Sicily under the Roman Empire: The Archaeology of a Roman Province 36 b.c. – a.d. 535 (Warminster, 1990), 33–4Google Scholar and Prag, J.R.W., ‘Sicilia Romana tributim discripta’, in Silvestrini, M. (ed.), Le tribù romane. Atti della XVIe Rencontre sur l’épigraphie (Bari 8–10 ottobre 2009) (Bari, 2010), 305–11Google Scholar, at 306.
35 See Green (n. 1), 5 and Sacks (n. 4 [1990]), 161 for discussion of this passage and the implications it has for Diodorus’ dates.
36 Jerome noted for 49 b.c. that Diodorus Siculus Graecae scriptor historiae clarus habetur: see Helm, R., Eusebius Werke: Siebenter Band: Die Chronik des Hieronymus (Berlin, 1965 2), 1.115Google Scholar. The date is early if the composition started around 60 b.c., and there are clear references to events after 49 b.c. Diodorus notes in Book 40 that some of his work had been pirated and published without his permission (40.8), and it is possible that the piracy of his work was the cause of the early floruit. See Muntz (n. 4 [2017]), 218 n. 9 for the suggestion that Diodorus left Alexandria after the damage to the library there caused by Julius Caesar.
37 Muntz (n. 4 [2017]), passim argues that the social and political problems in Egypt and Rome had an effect upon and were responded to within Diodorus’ Bibliothēkē. What follows is, in part, a more provincial outlook on the Mediterranean in this period, and is intended as a complement to Muntz's work.
38 It is not my intention to suggest that Diodorus’ generation witnessed the beginning of social upheaval and elite turmoil, or that Roman expansion and interference were the sole causes of the shifting political scene. The intent is to argue that the period of c.60–30 b.c. saw unpredictable social change at an unprecedented rate.
39 See Crassus’ bill in 65 b.c. to make Egypt into a tributary state, opposed by Catulus and Cicero: see Plut. Crass. 13.1; Cic. Reg. Alex. frr. 1–2; Siani-Davies, M., ‘Ptolemy XII Aulētēs and the Romans’, Historia 46 (1997), 306–40Google Scholar, at 312. In 63 b.c. P. Servilius Rullus proposed that Egyptian land be annexed and was opposed by Cicero: see Cic. Leg. Agr. 2.16–17 (43–4); Siani-Davies (this note), 313; Lintott, A., Cicero as Evidence. A Historian's Companion (Oxford, 2008), 137–42CrossRefGoogle Scholar.
40 Promises to Pompeius: see Joseph. AJ 14.35; App. Mith. 114.557; Plin. HN 33.47.136. Promises to Caesar: Cic. Rab. Post. 4; Dio Cass. 39.12.1. See also Heckster, O., ‘Kings and regime change in the Roman Republic’, in Smith, C. and Yarrow, L.M. (edd.), Imperialism, Cultural Politics, and Polybius (Oxford, 2012), 184–202CrossRefGoogle Scholar, at 195–6.
41 Cic. Att. 2.16.2; Caes. BCiv. 3.107.2; Dio Cass. 39.12.1.
42 On the discontent and the reign of the two queens, see Siani-Davies (n. 39), 316–19, 323–5 with references.
43 The murders: Siani-Davies (n. 39), 322–5 with references. The bribe: Cic. Rab. Post. 41; Suet. Caes. 54.3; Dio Cass. 39.56.3.
44 For the executions, see Dio Cass. 39.58.3 and Strabo 17.1.11 (796); for the debasement of coinage, see Siani-Davies (n. 39), 334.
45 Tigranes of Armenia had his kingdom reduced in size (Plut. Pomp. 33.5; App. Mith. 106; Syr. 49; Dio Cass. 36.53.2); Hyrcanus was appointed high priest and ethnarch in Judaea over Aristobulus (Joseph. AJ 14.4.3); Deiotarus was confirmed as a tetrarch of Galatia (App. Mith. 114); Archelaus was made the king of Comana (Strabo 12.3.34 [558]). Archelaus later entered Egyptian dynastic disputes by marrying Berenice IV. His dynasty in both Comana and Egypt ended with the return of Aulētēs: Strabo 17.1.11 (796); Livy, Per. 105.4; Plut. Ant. 3.5–6.
46 See Cic. Deiot. 5–10, 14, 41–3; Att. 14.1; Div. 2.37; Dio Cass. 41.63.3; [Caes.] BAlex. 67. Deiotarus also fought at Philippi, but his generals deserted Brutus after the first battle and he kept his kingdom: Dio Cass. 47.24.3, 47.48.2, 48.33.5.
47 Bocchus II: see Dio Cass. 41.42.7; M.R. Cimma, Reges socii et amici populi romani (Milan, 1976), 246; Hekster (n. 40), 190. Bocchus during the later civil war: see App. B Civ. 4.54–6; Cic. Att. 15.17.1; Dio Cass. 48.45.1–3. See also Roller, D.W., The World of Juba II and Kleopatra Selene (London, 2003), 91–5Google Scholar.
48 Marion of Tyre was likely removed: see Joseph. BJ 1.238–9; AJ 14.298, 14.314; App. B Civ. 5.7 and 5.10.
49 For references and discussion, see Pelling, C., ‘The triumviral period’, in Crook, J.A., Lintott, A. and Rawson, E. (edd.), CAH IX² (Cambridge, 1994), 1–69Google Scholar, at 21–2.
50 See Strabo 12.3.1 (541) and Pelling (n. 49), 21–2. Pompeius’ actions: see Plin. Ep. 10.43.1, 10.75–80, 10.110.1 and 10.112–13; also Sherwin-White, A.N., Roman Foreign Policy in the East. 168 b.c. to a.d. 1 (London, 1984), 258–60Google Scholar.
51 On taxation: Dio Cass. 42.6.3; App. B Civ. 5.4; Plut. Caes. 48.1. Ilium received immunity from taxation, freedom and a grant of land: Strabo 13.1.27 (594–5). Cnidus was freed: Plut. Caes. 48.1.
52 Carthage: Strabo 17.3.15 (833); Plut. Caes. 57; App. Lib. 136. Corinth: Strabo 8.6.23 (381); Plut. Caes. 57. Lampsacus: App. B Civ. 5.137. Sinope: Strabo 12.3.11 (546). Diodorus praised Caesar's colonial foundation at Corinth: see Diod. Sic. 32.27.3 and Muntz (n. 4 [2017]), 185–9.
53 Rawson, E., ‘Caesar: civil war and dictatorship’, in Crook, J.A., Lintott, A. and Rawson, E. (edd.), CAH IX² (Cambridge, 1994), 424–67Google Scholar, at 446–7.
54 App. B Civ. 5.7. Rhodes: IG XII 5.38 and XII Suppl. page 102 n. 38. In the same passage, Appian notes that Rhodes soon lost these gains.
55 See, as one example from many, the prosecution of Sthenius of Thermae by members of the city's elite at the behest of Verres: Cic. Verr. 2.2.89–90. The encouragement of these prosecutions by Verres undermined the social cohesion of the elite ruling classes in Sicily's poleis.
56 Sicily spared in the civil war: Plut. Cat. Min. 53.3; Dio Cass. 41.41.1; App. B Civ. 2.40.
57 Cic. Att. 14.12.1; all of Antony's acts in 44 b.c. were later annulled: Cic. Phil. 12.12, 13.5.
58 For discussion and bibliography, see Prag (n. 34), 305–6. Diodorus was aware of the extension of Roman citizenship to the Greeks of Sicily, but does not mention its later cancellation (13.35.3, 16.70.6).
59 Tyndaris: App. B Civ. 5.109, 5.116; Messana: App. B Civ. 5.122, Dio Cass. 49.11.2; towns punished: App. B Civ. 5.118, Dio Cass. 49.12.5; indemnity: App. B Civ. 5.129.
60 Q. Oppius in Cilicia: Livy, Per. 78. For the cultivation of his patronage, and the earlier support of his campaigns in the region, see Reynolds, J., Aphrodisias and Rome (London, 1962)Google Scholar, nos. 2 and 3.
61 Reynolds (n. 60), n. 5.
62 See Reynolds (n. 60), nos. 5, 38 and 98 for discussion of Aphrodisias’ loss of free status. Reynolds (n. 60), n. 13 assumes the capture of the city, most likely by Labienus. Reynolds (n. 60), nos. 11 and 12 notes the order for the return of looted possession to the city.
63 See Reynolds (n. 60), nos. 7 and 8 for the extensive privileges voted to Aphrodisias by the Senate. Reynolds (n. 60), n. 10 makes clear that Octavian assumed personal responsibility for the well-being of the city.
64 Diodorus is explicit that, if a historian could successfully write a history that covered the affairs of the world from ancient times to his own day, that historian would have composed a history of the utmost value (1.3.5–7). See Marincola, J., Authority and Tradition in Ancient Historiography (Cambridge, 1997)CrossRefGoogle Scholar for an essential overview of the competition between authors of history and the techniques employed to claim primacy in this field for each author.
65 As Sacks (n. 4 [1990]), 23–4 notes, this is an essential aspect of all Hellenistic historiography, and in thinking this way Diodorus is far from unique.
66 See Sacks (n. 4 [1990]), 23–34 for a discussion of Diodorus’ conception of ‘moral utility’ and the didactic drive throughout his work. Wiater, N., ‘Geschichtsschreibung und Kompilation. Diodors historiographische Arbeitsmethode und seine Vorstellungen von zeitgemäßer Geschichtsschreibung’, RhM 149 (2006), 248–71Google Scholar and Hau (n. 4 [2009]) argue that Diodorus’ intention was to collect together instances of suitably moralizing historical commentary from other authors, thus creating the moral utility from the observations of others. This did not preclude Diodorus from also altering and rephrasing passages to suit his own purpose in places, for an example of which see Hau (n. 4 [2006]). See also Hau (n. 4 [2016]), 75–7.
67 See Diod. Sic. 1.3.1–4. See now Muntz (n. 4 [2017]), passim for the argument that the first six books of the Bibliothēkē comment on contemporary events via a discussion of the events before the Trojan War.
68 See Diod. Sic. 1.3.5–8. See most recently Sheridan (n. 4), 49, who describes this passage as the ‘defining statement of the Bibliothēkē’.
69 Green (n. 1), 3 also notes that ‘[i]t would be surprising, in a work on this scale, if something of the author's character did not emerge’.
70 The concern to keep the bigger picture in mind is also indicated by an introductory remark at the start of the first ‘Slave War’, in which Diodorus comments on the similarity between the events in Asia Minor with Aristonicus and those in Sicily (34/35.2.26). Moreover, it is interesting to note that the implication of Diodorus’ framing of the first ‘Slave War’ is that all provincial subjects, subordinate citizens and indeed Diodorus himself can be understood in a sense as slaves.
71 See Muntz (n. 4 [2017]), 223. In this, Muntz built upon the arguments put forward in Rubincam, C.I.R., ‘How many books did Diodorus intend to write?’, CQ 48 (1998), 229–33CrossRefGoogle Scholar. In this structure, Diodorus’ original end date of 46 b.c. would have been reached in Books 41 and 42, giving 7 hexads. See Muntz (n. 4 [2017]), 223 and Rubincam (this note), 229–32.
72 Rubincam (n. 71), 222 n. 21.
73 Muntz (n. 4 [2017]), 223–4.
74 Goukowsky (n. 1), 43–5. See also Mileta (n. 10 [1998a] and [1998b]).
75 Goukowsky's interpretation is likely correct. The first war took place from c.135–132 b.c. and Books 34–35 collectively covered c.135–105 b.c.: Rubincam (n. 71), 231 n. 13.
76 Wozniczka (n. 13). The argument derives from the order given to the Constantinian excerpts that come from different parts of that collection. 34/35.2.25–32 come from Excerpta de Virtutibus et Vitiis, whereas 34/35.2.33 comes from Excerpta de Sententiis. There is, therefore, no reason to assume a priori that 34/35.2.33 ought to be placed after 34/35.2.32.
77 Hau (n. 4 [2016]), 77–9, at 77. On the proems in Diodorus, see also Sacks (n. 4 [1990]), 9–22.
78 This argument is not affected even if 34/35.2.33 is not the proem to Book 34: it is still the case that the moral lesson is one reinforced across the whole Bibliothēkē, as argued in Part 1, and one that features prominently in what remains of Books 34–36.
79 This is likely the case for the second ‘Slave War’ as well, because, as we saw above, that war's narrative is largely concerned with the nature of proper conduct by imperial officers.
80 See Sharrock (n. 8), 6–7 on understanding a text's meaning from ‘… the readings of its parts and its whole, but also out of readings of the relationships between the parts …’.
- 4
- Cited by