Where do we go from here? In practical terms with regard to the history of Roman Empire, how can we rewrite it? How do we use postcolonial thought to rewrite the narrative of Roman imperialism and to reframe Romanization? And what value does it hold? Does it matter to the contemporary audience? Can it make intellectual and moral interventions, and if so, what kinds of intervention? To make historical interventions on Romanization, to write a projective past of Roman imperialism, and to narrate repressed histories of the colonized and migrants can interrupt the present and negotiate a different future. Historical intervention on Roman imperialism, I believe, can revise the current sense of ownership of classical antiquity and can provide a better and wider structural lens on how on how to link the ancient past with the present.

Does postcolonial studies present a theoretical framework appropriate to Romanization studies? Does Romanization studies have evidence appropriate for postcolonial theories? Even though postcolonial theories did not stem from ancient Roman imperialism per se, they provide a heuristical tool to destabilize the discourse that has sustained imperial systems through history. They help Roman historians and archaeologists to reach a deeper understanding of the dynamic process of imperial discourses and to deconstruct the imperial discourses built through the complex layers of histories. This chapter does not deliver an exhaustive analysis or a landscape overview of postcolonial studies according to a certain order of significance or thematic categorization as is the common practice in the discipline, for example, along the triad of Said-Bhabha-Spivak or along the axis of theoretical and materialist approaches. Instead, here I explore postcolonial ideas which have influenced and reoriented Romanization studies.

The discourse on Romanization took a turn. Influential thoughts from Marxism, the Annales school, and the cliometrics revolution to poststructuralism and postcolonialism travelled and infiltrated Romanization studies. This not only helped to enrich the discourse, but it allowed the posing of meaningful questions. Applying contemporary studies on social structures, economic forces, and cultural politics, historians and archaeologists were able to gradually raise questions concerning the traditional models of parallel discourse, defensive imperialism, and civilizing Romanization. This chapter discusses key works of the Early Adopters, from Dyson, Finley, and Harris to Millett and Woolf to trace the course of postcolonial ideas that travelled to the Romanization discourse. It illustrates how the postwar generation of historians and archaeologists has enriched the Romanization discourse with social, economic, and cultural histories and started to question the imperialist epistemology upon which the discourse on Romanization was built.

The framework of ‘Romanization’ developed by Haverfield in 1905 - that Romans ‘civilized’ their imperial subjects, particularly those in ‘barbarian’ western provinces - remains hegemonic, notwithstanding multiple revisionist attempts. It has been reasserted, rejected, or modified, but still frames the debate. Yet, the postcolonial project to decolonize the production of historical knowledge has prompted some scholars to seek fresh approaches and to rewrite the history of Roman imperialism. This book asks: what is the value of postcolonialism in the discourse on Romanization? How has it influenced the discourse on Romanization thus far? Can postcolonialism move the discourse on Romanization forward? Borrowing Said’s concept of travelling ideas, this book undertakes a comparative study between the point of departure and the point(s) of arrival of travelling ideas of postcolonialism to understand their path and impact in the discourse on Roman imperialism and Romanization.

In the multi-ethnic and multi-cultural fabric of major cities in the post-colonial world, postcolonialism presented fresh possibilities for new history. It allowed Roman historians and archaeologists to reflect upon and break through the imperialist historiography of Roman history and to reach out to the intellectual discourse of the postcolonial age. Three prominent scholars who reoriented Romanization studies in the twenty-first century, Webster, Hingley, and Mattingly, turned their attention to the lower strata of the colonial power structure, the colonized and silent Other outside the hegemonic system of power and knowledge/truth – that is, the subaltern – and presented their alternative paradigms in postcolonialist vocabulary: creolization, globalization, and discrepant experiences, respectively. Pushing epistemological boundaries to the subaltern Other in the Roman Empire, they exposed Romano-centric and Eurocentric epistemologies underlying the paradigm of Romanization itself.

Neither Hannibal nor Scipio participated at the Metaurus (207), but it was the war’s turning point: Ennius thought Juno was now at last reconciled with Rome, and Livy presented Rome’s victory over Hannibal’s brother Hasdrubal as revenge for Cannae. Things looked bad for Rome after both consuls of 208, Marcellus and Crispinus, died in battle. Roman success was made possible by another reconciliation, between two old enemies the consuls Salinator and Nero. Nero’s forced march up Italy was enthusiastically greeted and fed en route. He returned south and threw Hasdrubal’s head before Hannibal’s camp. Appendix 8.1 concludes that Salinator was not a senior decemuir (priest) in 236. Appendix 8.2 discusses Roman battle vows and asks why Livy omitted Salinator’s Metaurus vow in his battle narrative. Appendix 8.3 examines the unusual joint triumph of Salinator and Nero. Appendix 8.4 shows another name (Sena) for Metaurus was current before Horace immortalized it.

Military comparison between Hannibal and Scipio began early, with their conversation at Ephesus, 193. First rule of generalship was: stay alive as ‘battle manager’; this had to be balanced by felt need for heroic leadership. Both learned warlike skills from relatives (Scipio grew up with three consular uncles and a consular father), but the biggest lesson was to avoid these men’s premature battle deaths. Army reforms are reviewed; Scipio’s are better attested. In logistics, both faced similar problems, but Hannibal’s isolation meant his challenges were greater. For weaponry, Hannibal had to improvise and recycle. Hannibal’s tactics were superior to Roman at the outset, but Scipio learned from his enemy. Both practised ‘Punic’ deception. Neither shone at siege or naval warfare. Hannibal’s struggle for Italian hearts and minds conflicted with his need to extract supplies. On man management, Scipio’s handling of Pleminius was a blemish. Unlike Scipio, Hannibal never faced a mutiny.

The Hannibal of this book is Hannibal surnamed Barca. Scipio is Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus. The final extra name (‘the African’) was given to him in recognition of his victory over Hannibal in north Africa. The Prologue explains that the model for this joint biograohy of Hannibal and Scipio is not so much Plutarch’s series of parallel Greek and Roman lives, as Alan Bullock’s Hitler and Stalin: Parallel Lives. Ancient, Renaissance, and modern explorations of the parallels between the two men are discussed, and a separate section sketches the career and approach of Bullock as a classically trained modern historian and biographer. Another section sets out programmatically the view of Roman and Carthaginian imperialism to be adopted in the book. The limitations of the evidence available to biographers of individuals from the ancient world are candidly acknowledged, and the use of the ‘past presumptive’ tense (so-and so- ‘will have’ done, known, or thought this or that) is renounced.

Scipio’s downfall is superficially surprising: the charges were obviously invented, although he was not helped by his own arrogance. The disgrace and death in humiliating retirement of a successful, patriotic general seems a display of petty ingratitude. But in the Roman Republic, no individual, however gifted and successful, must be allowed to become too wealthy from booty or too politically powerful. The main agent of his disgrace (two phases, 187, 184), was Cato. Livy’s narrative is gripping but confused. Polybius treated the troubles of the Scipio brothers only as part of an anecdotal obituary. In 187, Cato put up two tribunes to demand an account of the money which Lucius received from Antiochus as part-payment of war indemnity. Publius, the real target, angrily tore up the account book which could have cleared him. He himself was prosecuted (184). It never came to trial. He died at his Campanian villa (183).

Hannibal was forced by Roman pressure to flee Carthage in secret (195). Livy’s narrative is lively and amusing. Like a Classical Greek taking refuge with a Persian satrap, he spent the rest of his life with eastern royalty. His flight was precipitated by the arrival of three Roman envoys, whose mission was to accuse Hannibal of plotting war against Rome in combination with the Seleucid king Antiochus III. He had long prepared for something like this, and left the African mainland for a nearby island, Cercina. There he found Phoenician ships and suspected they might take news of him to Carthage. So he organized a midsummer banquet, including a huge improvised sunshade or marquee made from the ships’ sails. In the morning the crews awoke with hangovers to find their ships incapacitated. He sailed for Tyre, then Daphne, a suburb of Antioch. Back at Carthage, his town house was formally demolished.