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The devastating Jewish revolt against the Roman empire
Barry Strauss reflects on the Jewish-Roman wars, exploring the roots – and legacy – of the conflict
It was under the rule of the infamous emperor Nero that the Great Revolt, the first of the Jewish-Roman wars, began, sparking many decades of continuous conflict. Speaking to James Osborne, historian and author Barry Strauss traces the story, following the the fate of the Jewish rebels and the legacy of the conflict.
The ancient Romans knew the power of entertainment as propaganda – here's the proof
In ancient Rome, putting on theatrical plays was not just a form of entertainment – it became a powerful tool of propaganda
Lysistrata by Aristophanes; Antigone by Sophocles; Medea by Euripides. Each is a play from ancient Greece, still performed on stages across the world today. Roman plays, on the other hand, are much less common. “We might think of theatre today as belonging to the cultural sphere, but in ancient Rome, it belonged to an incredibly political sphere,” says Dr Jessica Clarke, a research associate at the Institute of Classical Studies at the University of London and the author of A New History of Ancient Roman Theatre, speaking on the HistoryExtra podcast. “Entertainment is never neutral,” she says, but in ancient Rome, the theatre was explicitly political. “In Rome they didn't have independent theatres, so they didn’t have shows put on outside of politically controlled events.” This fact, she says, means that plays from ancient Rome have failed to remain as relevant as their Greek equivalents. The history of ancient Roman theatre Roman theatre hadn’t always been so overtly political; early Roman theatre was a “hodgepodge” of traditions and practices from previous empires and different areas of modern-day Italy, Clarke says. The ancient historian Livy, who Clarke says is the main source of information we have on the origins of Roman theatre, draws a "very neat line from actors arriving from Etruria to Roman theatre," Clarke says. While Etruscan performances did influence what would become Roman theatre, there’s more likely a “complicated web” of things that became the Roman theatrical tradition, including Greek plays translated into Latin and farcical plays from Campania in southern Italy. Read more | Meet the people the ancient Romans and Greeks desperately tried to hide In general, “Rome tended to absorb cultural influences, rather than inventing its own,” she adds – but it certainly gave theatre its own cultural significance. Theatrical shows would be put on at all kinds of events in Roman culture, including religious festivals, the triumphant returns of Roman generals, and even highly organised aristocratic funerals. “Crucially though, all of these performances are put on by politicians, who would have overseen rehearsals and selected the plays,” Clarke says. “Potentially there may have been some censorship involved as well – we don't know for sure, but it's very likely within this context.” This meant that the politicians could choose plays that worked with whatever political narratives they wanted to put forward (or censor parts that didn’t). <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/10/GettyImages-122211671-b717d9b-e1760010634986.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="This 1st-century AD mosaic from the House of the Tragic Poet in Pompeii depicts the staging of a theatrical performance. Such scenes highlight the importance of theatre in Roman cultural life, blending entertainment with expressions of myth, satire, and social commentary." title="Roman civilization. Mosaic depicting staging of show in theatre. From House of Tragic Poet in Pompeii" /> The importance of theatre to the Roman political elite If audiences enjoyed the shows staged by politicians, this could have a hugely positive impact on their political careers, Clarke says. “It was an excellent opportunity to win popular favour, to entertain the people, to bring interest to your cause, and to get your name known in Rome,” Clarke says. For this reason, putting on shows was seen as an important thing for politicians to do as they advanced their careers and rose through the ranks. “In a traditional political career in Rome, you would work through the Cursus Honorum, which is essentially the political ladder, to get to the highest position,” Clarke says. “One of those early rungs of the ladder was something called the aedileship. That was the position as a magistrate where you were responsible for putting on games within the city. There were a couple of other responsibilities, but it was primarily putting on the shows.” Read more | The overshadowed ancient empire that rivalled Rome with maritime might and an iron fist The more spectacular a show, whether it was a play or a gladiatorial performance, the more popular a politician might be among voters. “Towards the end of the late Republic, we know that individuals were increasingly pouring huge amounts of their own money and resources into making these shows as splendid as possible, as it was a great opportunity,” Clarke says. The level of expense got so out of hand, that the senate eventually legislated a spending cap. This was brought in under the aedileship of Tiberius Sempronius Gracchus in 182 BC, because his events had cost so much that it became "burdensome" to the state, its allies, and its provinces abroad. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/10/ancient-roman-theatre-mask-5dec20e.jpeg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="This 1st-century BC mosaic from the House of the Faun in Pompeii depicts a tragic dramatic mask, a powerful symbol of Roman theatrical culture. Masks like this were central to performances, allowing actors to embody gods, heroes, and emotions on stage." title="ancient-roman-theatre-mask" /> Different genres, different political messages “There's always something that you can say with a piece of entertainment,” Clarke says, making theatre a useful tool for “political manipulation.” “Tragedy seems to have had a place in high moments of political tension,” she says. For example, at the opening of the first permanent theatre in Rome in 55 BC, “Pompey chose to have two tragedies performed – Clytemnestra and The Trojan Horse – in Latin, translated from the Greek,” she says. “We also know that for Julius Caesar's funeral, again tragedies were chosen to present to the crowd.” Caesar: Death of a Dictator Member exclusive | On the Ides of March 44 BC, the most famous Roman in history was murdered. Julius Caesar's assassination transformed Rome forever, and the image of his bloody toga has haunted monarchs and tyrants ever since. Listen to all episodes now Comedies, on the other hand, helped to present and enforce the status quo that oppressed women and slaves. In Roman comedies, “violence towards women is expressed as a joke,” Clarke says. “It's seen as something that's amusing. Women are raped and that is often a plot point in the male characters' narratives, rather than having anything to do with the female character.” Similarly, slave and master dynamics would be reversed in comedies. “Often, the slave would seemingly be in a slightly more autonomous position within a comic plot,” Clarke says. “It's meant to be amusing that a slave could have a role where they are able to control their own destiny or the destiny of other characters in the play.” Some scholars disagree, interpreting the slave’s autonomous role as a challenge to the status quo with an emancipatory message, but that’s not Clarke’s view. “Whilst these comedies are bawdy, rowdy, and quite raucous, we do need to be aware that this is a form of theatre that comes from a society where slavery is institutionalised, and violence towards slaves and women is normalised as part of the comic narrative,” she says. This might be another reason why ancient Roman theatre hasn’t had the longevity that ancient Greek plays have had. “Greek theatre is still performed on the West End,” Clarke says. “But Roman theatre doesn't get performed today, primarily because the themes just aren't appropriate for a modern-day audience – with the slavery, with the depictions of violence. We just don't find that funny anymore.” Jessica Clarke was speaking to Emily Briffett on the HistoryExtra podcast. Listen to the full conversation.
Is this the best routine to boost your health? Yes, according to an ancient Roman intellectual
Pliny the Elder was an intellectual powerhouse of ancient Rome. Though not a physician, in describing the ideal daily routine of a Roman gentleman he revealed how the ancient elite believed health could be improved
In the first century AD, the Bay of Naples was fringed by villas belonging to ancient Rome’s political and military elite. The slopes of Mount Vesuvius rose above lush orchards and gardens, while trading ships came in and out of the harbour, bringing exotic imports. This was one of the most fashionable regions of the Roman empire – a retreat for senators, generals and imperial officials with vast reserves of political power and private wealth. Pliny the Elder lived here in the final years of his life. A senior Roman official, he had been a cavalry commander in his youth, later a provincial administrator, and eventually commander of the fleet stationed at Misenum (now Miseno, in the north-west of the Bay of Naples). Born around AD 23, he lived through the reigns of emperors such as Claudius, Nero and Vespasian, at a time when Rome governed vast territories stretching from Britain to north Africa and the near east. Alongside his public duties, he was an impressive scholar. According to his nephew, Pliny the Younger, he read and dictated notes almost constantly, wrote while travelling, and had books read aloud to him as he ate. His greatest work, Natural History, filled 37 volumes. It was an encyclopaedic attempt to catalogue all aspects of life and the natural world: astronomy, geography, zoology, botany, mineralogy, art and medicine. “He literally said: ‘I want to cover everything in the world’,” explains Dr Jess Venner, speaking on the HistoryExtra podcast. “It was ambitious, and he did pretty well.” The work survives today as one of the largest single texts to survive from antiquity, preserving fragments of earlier Greek and Roman science that might otherwise have been lost. That ambition shaped his thinking about health, including his views on exercise. “He’s very specific about what he likes to do in a day,” says Venner. By the first century AD, Roman notions of health rested on a sophisticated Greek-derived system, especially the Hippocratic tradition and Galen’s later work. Roman medicine was based on the ancient concept that the body contained four humours – blood, phlegm, black bile and yellow bile – which needed to be kept in balance to ensure good health. It was a humoral imbalance, triggered by lifestyle or environment, that was believed to cause illness. Read more | Are you healthier than a Roman? These ancient secrets for longevity are still shockingly relevant The model ancient Roman routine for health In one of his letters, Pliny describes the daily habits of an elderly statesman named Spurinna – a respected senator of the early empire – as a model of balanced living. “He’s saying: ‘This is the best way to be balanced as a Roman man – to achieve good health’,” Venner explains. “He writes that Spurinna is said to rise one hour before dawn, before taking a three-mile walk – naked – around his hippodrome.” In Roman elite culture, exercising unclothed drew on long-standing Greek athletic traditions. Public bath complexes across the empire included exercise yards where men trained before bathing. After the first walk, Spurinna would take two additional walks later in the day. In the Roman world view, walking was considered ideal exercise. Read more | 6 ways people stayed healthy in ancient Rome It was low-impact, rhythmic and adaptable to age. It stimulated digestion – a central concern in ancient medicine – without causing excessive strain. It allowed exposure to fresh air and sunlight, both believed to regulate internal qualities of heat and moisture. The repetition of walks across the day reflects the Roman belief in steady maintenance rather than single bursts of effort. The setting is revealing of elite Roman attitudes, too. Spurinna’s hippodrome was part of a private estate. “He’s going around his lovely verdant gardens, and they’re more like a park,” Venner says, adding: “They’re beautiful. And this is done in the morning sunshine.” Morning sunlight was particularly important. After the cold of night, it warmed the body gently. Roman elites and ball games Pliny also explains that Spurinna enjoyed playing ball games outdoors. “He’ll be throwing around a ball, should it not be too windy,” Venner says. Ball games were popular among the Roman elite, often played in villa courtyards or bath complexes. They provided moderate exercise, again without causing too much strain –consistent with the humoral theory that cautioned against extremes. Different types of balls were used, and sometimes more vigorous games were played, though elites were advised to favour gentler forms suitable for ageing bodies. “These are all activities deemed by Pliny to be beneficial to Spurinna’s mind and body,” Venner says. “And we can reasonably believe that Pliny would engage in these activities himself.” Caesar: Death of a Dictator Member exclusive | On the Ides of March 44 BC, the most famous Roman in history was murdered. Julius Caesar's assassination transformed Rome forever, and the image of his bloody toga has haunted monarchs and tyrants ever since. Listen to all episodes now Health as moral discipline Roman ideas of health were inseparable from notions of character and morality. Elite Roman masculinity valued moderation, discipline and order. Rising before dawn demonstrated self-control; regulating exercise signalled mastery over indulgence; exposure to one’s own land reinforced status and identity. The Roman ideal of virtus –manly excellence – was a combination of physical effort with moral restraint. Read more | “Christianity didn’t invent itself as an empire from nothing: it adapted existing Roman structures” At the same time, it’s important to situate this advice within the broader social hierarchy of ancient Rome. Structured exercise was largely an elite concern. This was guidance for wealthy men with leisure time and landscaped estates, while labourers, enslaved people and soldiers experienced intense physical exertion as necessity. Still, the underlying principles extolled by Pliny have value, emphasising that good health can be maintained though moderate walking, gentle games and exposure to air and light. In that sense, Pliny’s prescription was based on the idea of equilibrium. The best exercise, in his world, was the one that sustained balance, day after day. Pliny himself died in AD 79 – but not because of ill health. When Vesuvius erupted, he sailed across the Bay of Naples from his base at Misenum to observe the phenomenon and to help with evacuation efforts. He died during the catastrophe – killed by one of the natural phenomena about which he had been so insatiably curious throughout his life. Jess Venner was speaking to Kev Lochun on the HistoryExtra podcast. Listen to the full conversation.
Have archaeologists just found proof of ancient Carthage's legendary anti-Roman war weapon?
During the Second Punic War, the famous Carthaginian general Hannibal led his forces to numerous victories. But did he really take war elephants across the Alps?
The Punic Wars – and the Second Punic War (218–201 BC) specifically – were a definitive chapter in the history of the ancient world. Fought between the formidable Mediterranean power of Carthage and the upstart Roman Republic, the conflict ultimately saw the balance of power shift decisively away from the Carthaginians and towards the Romans. Had Rome fallen, Carthage would have retained its influence, and Roman civilisation may never have grown out of its infancy. Instead, the Romans won. Rome’s destruction of Carthage in 146 BC, at the end of the Third Punic War, eliminated its greatest rival. In victory, they took hold of the ancient Mediterranean, using it as a springboard for imperial expansion across Europe, North Africa and the Near East. It wasn’t until the invasions associated with Attila the Hun centuries later that Rome would again face such an existential threat. But that’s not to say that Roman victory was inevitable. During the apogee of the war, the Carthaginian general Hannibal Barca inflicted a series of devastating defeats on Roman armies. At Cannae in 216 BC, perhaps 50,000 Roman soldiers died in a single day – one of the worst military disasters in Roman history – while earlier victories at Trebia (218 BC) and Lake Trasimene (217 BC) had already demonstrated Hannibal’s military genius. Read more | Long before the ancient Roman empire, a rival superpower looked set for supremacy His most audacious, move, however, was none of these. Marching from Carthaginian territories in Iberia – modern-day Spain – Hannibal led an expeditionary force through southern Gaul and across the Alps, where he traversed the imposing mountainous slopes with a vast army that included war elephants. It was a force that arrived at the gates of Rome, pushing for a Roman surrender. It’s an astonishing story that underlines Hannibal’s determination, and most of all, his astounding logistical capabilities. But for all its fame, did it really happen? While many historians and archaeologists accept its plausibility, no physical evidence has ever been found for Hannibal’s elephantine, Alpine crossing. Ancient texts recount the elephants in detail, but physical evidence has remained conspicuous in its absence. At least, until now. New evidence for Hannibal’s ancient elephants? Archaeologists – led by Professor Rafael M Martínez Sánchez – excavating at Colina de los Quemados, near Córdoba in southern Spain, have uncovered a small elephant foot bone dating to the late third century BC – the period of Hannibal’s campaign. The discovery may represent the first tangible archaeological evidence connected to the elephants used during the Punic Wars. The roughly 10-centimetre cube-shaped bone was found beneath a collapsed wall within an Iron Age settlement. Radiocarbon dating places it firmly within the timeframe of the Second Punic War. Additional finds from the 2020 excavation (including coins, ceramics and military material) suggest the site was associated with armed conflict. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2026/02/elephant-bone-60cdac0-e1772187879548.jpeg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="Comparative figure of elephant third carpal (wrist) bones showing an Iron Age archaeological specimen from Colina de los Quemados, Córdoba (top row) alongside modern Asian elephant and Steppe Mammoth examples, with numbered articular facets used for anatomical comparison." title="elephant-bone" /> Comparisons with modern elephant skeletons and even prehistoric steppe mammoths confirmed the identification. Because elephants weren’t native to Iberia, the researchers argue the animal must have been transported there, most likely by ship as part of a military operation. Carthage had long experience using the animals, likely North African forest elephants (now extinct), as part of its military. Read more | How did a crow help Rome defeat Carthage? Does the age and location of the find, and its surrounding context, point to the possibility of the bone being the remains of an elephant that was part of Hannibal’s war band, perhaps dying before the general began his famous Alpine crossing? As the paper states, the bone “could potentially embody the first known relic … of the animals used in the Punic Roman wars for the control of the Mediterranean.” So, is the bone proof of Hannibal’s elephants? For Emeritus Professor Kevin Walsh, an archaeologist at the University of York, the discovery is significant less for what it proves, than for how it fits into a long-standing historical puzzle. “The new bone evidence supports the argument that elephants were present in Hannibal’s world,” he says, speaking to HistoryExtra. But, he notes, the bone isn’t proof that this elephant belonged to Hannibal. “This does not constitute definitive physical evidence for war elephants in Hannibal’s army, and consequently, certainly not definitive evidence for elephants that would have gone on to cross France and then traverse the Alps.” Read more | Alice Roberts: “Christianity didn’t invent itself as an empire from nothing: it adapted existing Roman structures” Proof, Walsh says, would ideally be “a site – or sites – that comprise artefacts directly linked to a Carthaginian army at an alpine site, along with elephant bones; a site that comprises several types of evidence supporting the presence of an army in this area in the Alps during the late third century BC.” But, as Walsh explains, preservation itself poses a problem: acidic alpine soils rarely allow bone to survive over long periods. High-altitude environments also shift over time due to erosion, glacial movement and landslides, further complicating the archaeological record. In an ideal scenario, he suggests, researchers might one day detect elephant DNA preserved within lake sediments near a plausible crossing route. In this context, the Spanish discovery serves mainly as confirmation that elephants were indeed present within the military world of late third-century BC Carthage. As Walsh says, it’s “another tantalising piece of evidence for a puzzle that is missing numerous pieces.” What was the point of Hannibal’s war elephants? Even if the bone was firm evidence for Hannibal’s war elephants, Professor Philip Freeman – a classicist at Pepperdine University and specialist in the ancient Mediterranean – says that the broader historical implications would be limited, simply because elephants weren’t always the most effective weapons. “I think the evidence of elephant bones in Spain is intriguing, but it doesn't really change our view of Hannibal or the Punic War,” he says. “No one ever seriously doubted that the Carthaginians used them in battle or that Hannibal took them to Italy, as the ancient texts say.” Read more | The overshadowed ancient empire that rivalled Rome with maritime might and an iron fist “The problem with elephants in ancient warfare was that they never made much difference. They were large and imposing but tactically offered little help. They were hard to control and might just as easily turn on their own side as the enemy. They were good for show, but not much else.” As Freeman notes, according to ancient sources, “Hannibal only had one elephant who survived the crossing of the Alps into Italy, so it made little difference to the war.” Whether the bone belongs to one of Hannibal’s elephants or simply proves the presence of elephants within the Carthaginian context, both Freeman and Walsh argue that the animals themselves were not especially important. Freeman concludes, “it was Hannibal's military brilliance that enabled him to defeat the Romans again and again, not elephants.” Hannibal’s journey across the Alps with elephants, navigating winding passes and narrow mountain ledges, may therefore be more significant as an audacious logistical achievement than as a moment of true military importance. “It is perhaps the enigma itself, and faith in the idea that such an exploit was possible, that makes any new piece of research on the topic interesting,” concludes Walsh. “Hannibal's achievement and his army's remarkable struggle contribute to a timeless story of human resilience in the face of an apparently impossible task.” Roman Britain | A short course from HistoryExtra Academy Member exclusive | In this four-week course, discover everything you need to know about Roman Britain, guided by Rob Collins, professor of frontier archaeology at Newcastle University. Explore the course now
This ordinary ancient Roman object is still used today – and has hardly changed
From dealing with nits to learning the three Rs, ancient Roman childhood bore some striking similarities to the modern experience
Life for children in ancient Rome would have looked very different depending on where in the huge Roman empire you lived, what social class your family was from, and your gender. And while childhood in ancient Rome would have looked very different from the lives of children today, there were a few surprising similarities. Speaking on the HistoryExtra podcast, Bettany Hughes, a historian and author of the children’s book There Was a Roman in Your Garden, explains that “there are strange things that connect the experience of being a child in ancient Rome with the experience of being a child in the 21st century.” One overlap between childhood today and in ancient Rome is the fine-toothed nit comb, designed to remove head lice. “Nit combs are exactly the same design as they were in the ancient world – this was obviously the perfect design because it hasn't changed over the millennia,” Hughes says. But while the nit combs of today tend to be made of plastic, the ancient Romans used a different material for theirs: boxwood, a type of wood commonly used for small, carved items. “Boxwood has slight antibacterial properties, which was probably a really good thing [because] if you have nits, you scratch. Boxwood would hopefully prevent the spread of bacterial infection,” Hughes says. “The Romans were very smart, and [people in] the ancient world were much better at understanding nature and us being a part of nature than we are today,” Hughes says. Boxwood wasn’t the only plant that the Romans used for medicinal purposes. According to writings by Dioscorides, a Greek physician who was considered to be an authority on plants and plant medicine in the Roman period, oil made from walnuts was also used on children’s heads – albeit to help with alopecia or baldness, and to make the hair “pleasing.” He also recommended the “scrapings” from various gourds or squashes to help with sunstroke in children, and said that if children ate peonies, it could help to prevent kidney stones. Familiar features of ancient Roman childhood When ancient Roman children weren’t busy catching nits from each other, they might have been playing. Ancient children were given miniature versions of adult items to play with, just like some kids are today. “If you were really wealthy, there were little mini chariots pulled by goats that you could have as a well-to-do Roman child – sort of like how really wealthy kids today get mini Bentleys and Rolls Royces,” Hughes says. Poorer children also play-acted adult actions. Lots of “young boys were given wooden daggers and swords to practice play fighting with,” Hughes explains. Read more | If ancient Romans didn't understand calories, how was their theory of nutrition so accurate? While children might play with swords today, play fighting was more likely to be inspired by the real thing for ancient Roman boys, because ancient Rome was a “very militaristic society.” Girls, on the other hand, might have played with jointed dolls. “We always do that thing of thinking we do things better than people in the past, but actually the dolls that [the ancient Romans] used were really sophisticated, with beautiful moving arms, moving legs, and moving necks,” Hughes says. With their jewellery and hairstyles, historian Fanny Dolansky suggests that these dolls were created as idealised figures of high-status Roman womanhood and meant to help wealthier girls prepare for their roles as wives and mothers. What about Roman education? The basics of ancient Roman education would be recognisable to many, too; focused on the three Rs – reading, writing, and arithmetic. There was no free public schooling, so any type of formal education had to be paid for, whether children were sent to schools or if parents hired personal tutors to teach them at home. Poorer children – if lucky – would be taught the basics at home by their parents. Roman Britain | A short course from HistoryExtra Academy Member exclusive | In this four-week course, discover everything you need to know about Roman Britain, guided by Rob Collins, professor of frontier archaeology at Newcastle University. Explore the course now While ancient Roman children didn’t use pens and paper, they did have the ancient equivalent of whiteboards. “You’d do your writing by scratching it into a wax tablet with a pointy stick, a stylus,” Hughes says. “And then you’d erase it at the end of the day just by melting the wax or using a kind of rubber, so you had your recyclable exercise-book-equivalent for the next day.” Read more | 6 ways people stayed healthy in ancient Rome And teachers have been exasperated at the quality of childrens’ work since ancient Roman times, too. The evidence for that was found at Vindolanda – a Roman archaeological site in modern-day Northumberland, England – where some organic remains have been well-preserved. On one tablet, someone has written out a line from the ancient epic the Aeneid – and someone else has added a comment. “The teacher has just written ‘seg,’ which is short for seguta, which means sloppy,” Hughes says. “You can so imagine this poor guy or girl, desperately trying to do their homework and get praised, but the teacher being very dismissive.” Roman schooling was much tougher But while there were some similarities, education has changed a lot in the last few millennia. How you were educated and how long you stayed in school depended on your social status and your gender. Read more | Rome's worst nightmare: the story of Spartacus “Boys were often taught things like arithmetic and rhetoric and lots of other disciplines, and girls pretty much were just taught reading and writing,” Hughes says. If your family couldn’t afford to pay for your schooling, your education would be entirely up to your family – and “as soon as you could walk, you would work as a child in the ancient world,” Hughes says, whether that was taking messages or helping out in the household. Children were generally treated much more strictly, too, Hughes says. “No doubt it was very tough. They were chastised with canes and whips.” Bettnay Hughes was speaking to Emily Briffett on the HistoryExtra podcast. Listen to the full conversation.
3,100 years ago, ancient Egyptian workers defeated a God-King – without using any weapons
Before picket lines and unionisation, ancient Egyptian artisans learned that collectively withdrawing labour could force even a pharaoh to negotiate
“1768 is really when the word ‘strike’ begins to develop out of the UK.” That’s the view of classicist Sarah E Bond, speaking on the HistoryExtra podcast. As Bond explains, the word ‘strike’ comes from a moment when sailors in the port of Sunderland decided to literally strike down the topsails of their ships, immobilising them until their demands were met by their bosses. The tactic worked, spread south to the shipyards of the Thames, and quickly entered the political vocabulary. But the behaviour the word came to describe – the collective withholding of labour – is actually far older. “What that word represents is an action that goes all the way back to the second millennium BC,” Bond says. Before the concept of money or coinage, workers had figured out a fundamental principle: stopping work was a way to force those in power to negotiate. The ancient Egyptian origins of strikes “Even if these words were not familiar to those within the ancient world, there are still methodologies within labour disputes that have been happening for thousands of years,” says Bond. One of the earliest, clearest examples of what would now be termed a ‘strike’ comes from ancient Egypt – a civilisation that was rigidly hierarchical and dominated by unquestionable royal authority. Beneath the monumental architecture and other cultural feats, Egyptian society depended on a vast pool of labour. Read more | Long before Cleopatra, another female pharaoh redefined ancient Egyptian power In the second millennium BC, during the reign of Ramesses III, Egypt had passed the peak of imperial expansion it had enjoyed a century earlier. Ramesses III ruled during the early 12th century BC, at the end of the New Kingdom, a period marked by mounting economic pressure, as well as internal and external instability. Ramesses III presented himself as a traditional warrior-pharaoh, defending Egypt against repeated Libyan incursions and threats from other foreign enemies, such as the mysterious ‘Sea Peoples’. Reliefs and inscriptions depict the pharaoh’s decisive victories, but modern historians view his reign as one of crisis management, with Egyptian prosperity faltering. Not only was the kingdom embroiled in expensive wars, but agricultural output was stalling. Despite these pressures, Ramesses III occupied an impossibly powerful position. The Egyptian pharaoh was viewed as a divine intermediary, responsible for maintaining maat – a religious notion of cosmic order that guaranteed harmony between gods, people and nature. Feeding workers, paying temple staff and sustaining major construction projects were all part of that sacred duty. Read more | Life in ancient Egypt: what was it like? However, Egypt didn’t yet have a system of coinage, and instead operated a redistributive economy centred on agricultural surplus. According to Bond, workers were paid in barley and emmer wheat, which would have been enough to feed entire households. The state also collected agricultural produce as tax, stored it in granaries, and redistributed it to soldiers, officials, priests and specialised workers. The system proved effective if harvests were stable and administration functioned efficiently. But during periods of disruption, the impact of shortages rippled through society. The workers of Deir el-Medina The strike itself unfolded at Deir el-Medina, a purpose-built village housing the highly skilled artisans who carved and painted the royal tombs in the Valley of the Kings. These workers were salaried state employees, exempt from agricultural work, housed by the government and supplied directly from royal granaries. Many were literate, and they left behind letters, complaints and administrative records that give historians a rare view into the lives of non-elite Egyptians. But because they didn’t farm their own food, missed deliveries of their payment left them vulnerable. When Ramesses III’s administration fell badly behind on promised rations, families at Deir el-Medina faced serious consequences. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2026/02/GettyImages-122227075-1-ead9340-e1771582491490.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="Ancient Egyptian tomb painting showing a blind harpist performing before a seated couple, with hieroglyphs above the figures." title="Egypt, Ancient Thebes, Dayr al-Madinah (Deir el-Medina), tomb of Anherkha, mural painting of deceased Khai-Inherkha and wife before blind harpist" /> “The necropolis workers decided that they were going to go on strike until they got the rations and payment that they were promised by the pharaoh,” Bond says. The workers peacefully withdrew their labour entirely and carefully chose their protest site. Their actions were documented by local scribes, making this the earliest recorded labour strike in human history. “They decided that they were going to go and sit in the back of a temple, and that they were simply going to refuse to work until they were given the back payments.” Temples in ancient Egypt were sanctuaries of non-violence. Fighting and bloodshed within them was taboo. It’s for that reason that “going and sitting in peaceful protest at the back of a temple, or just outside a temple, was something that became extremely common in Pharaonic Egypt, and continued well into the Ptolemaic period and beyond.” Read more | The dark side of ancient Egypt The protest worked – or at least in the short term. After several days, grain was released from nearby temples and emergency rations were distributed to the workers of Deir el-Medina. Over the following years, delays in payment recurred because of the broader political and administrative trouble, and the artisans repeatedly downed tools. “That, to me, was very much what we would today call a strike – even if that’s not what they were referring to it as,” concludes Bond. As for Ramesses III, the strike was a warning sign of deeper systemic failure, and Egypt’s economic strain only worsened towards the end of his reign. In the final years of his rule, the pharaoh was caught up in the so-called ‘harem conspiracy’ – a palace plot involving members of his own household. Modern forensic analysis suggests that Ramesses was assassinated, likely having his throat cut, bringing his 31-year reign to a violent end. But, even before that, the God-King had already been defeated by a band of striking necropolis workers. Jon Bauckham was speaking to Sarah E Bond on the HistoryExtra podcast. Listen to the full conversation.
The ancient Greeks had six essential tips for health. How many do you do?
With conflicting advice and endless new trends, it can feel hard to keep up with the modern health and wellness space. But ideas about how to live a healthy life are nothing new. Thousands of years ago, the ancient Greeks had their own list of requirements
Wellness might feel like a modern concept, attached to health-tracker apps, screen time, and green smoothies. But the concept of actively trying to lead a healthy life while keeping the body in a good state isn’t new. In fact, systems of preventative health stretch back more than 2,000 years to the medical traditions of the ancient Mediterranean world. Speaking on the Life Lessons from History series from the HistoryExtra podcast, Sasha Handley, a professor of early modern history at the University of Manchester, says there used to be a “fantastic preventative healthcare culture” based on advice that dates back to ancient Greece. As she sets out, there was a list of six lifestyle factors and behaviours that physicians, medical practitioners, and ordinary people alike knew they had to take care of for their long-term health. These were the ‘six non-naturals’ and the ancient Greeks believed that “temperance of all of those six things was key to long-term good health, according to the wisdom of the time” says Handley. The term “non-naturals” described factors external to the body that could be managed or regulated, as opposed to “naturals,” which were the body’s innate characteristics So what were these six factors, and how much do they align with modern thinking? Fresh air The first non-natural to look after was fresh air – that is, “getting enough of it and making sure that you were not taking in fetid or corrupt air,” Handley says. The Greeks thought that ‘bad air’ could cause disease and advocated for good airflow within houses to lessen exposure to stagnant air. Read more | Meet the people the ancient Romans and Greeks desperately tried to hide Today, we know there is no singular concept of ‘bad air’. But there are pollutants in the air that can be hazardous to people, and we do know that some diseases are airborne. Food and drink It was considered important that a person was “eating and drinking the right kinds of things for [their] bodily constitution, but also at the right times of day,” Handley says. Theories about what was good to eat and when were based on the four humours: blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile. Different foods being either cold or hot, or wet or dry, affected the balances of the four humours in the body, which led to different outcomes for people’s health and constitutions. For example, someone believed to have an excess of “heat” might be prescribed cooling foods such as cucumber or lettuce. Galen, a Greek physician and philosopher whom the idea of the six non-naturals is attributed to, thought that warm food led to the production of yellow bile, while cold food led to the production of phlegm. Galen practised in the second century AD and became one of the most influential medical authorities in history. Read more | If ancient Romans didn't understand calories, how was their theory of nutrition so accurate? Now, our understanding of food and diet is more scientific. But we do know that some specific nutrients have particular health benefits; protein helps to contribute to maintaining muscle mass, while vegetables can be a source of different micronutrients and vitamins. Exercise and rest Getting enough exercise and rest was also believed to be important. Exercise was seen as having a drying effect on the humours, and physicians recommended exercises to patients both to prevent and treat disease. The body, in humoural thought, was constantly shifting in balance; movement was one of the tools available to correct excess moisture or sluggishness. Galen thought work and exercise were equal, defining them as vigorous movements that made you out of breath. The exercises that he prescribed to his patients, though, were more moderate. He recommended exercises that involved a small ball. Watch now | Why the Ancient Egyptians WEREN'T ancient Massage and baths were also seen as having a similar effect to exercise, something that would be echoed in wellness modern wellness trends centred around saunas, sports massage, and cold plunges. Sleep and waking Sleep and dreams were important parts of ancient Greek philosophy as well as their medical knowledge. Dreams were deemed to be evidence of the state of the body, and therefore were helpful in diagnosing medical issues. But they were also important within ancient Greek religion. The ancient Greeks believed that the gods could communicate via dreams and that sleep had healing properties through its link with the gods. We might not bring up our dreams in doctors’ offices these days, but research increasingly shows the powerful health impact of sleep on physical, cognitive, and emotional health. Recent studies show that getting enough sleep can be associated with lower rates of chronic diseases such as dementia, diabetes, and heart disease. Excretion and retention The fifth non-natural “sounds fairly graphic, but it’s excretion and retention,” Handley says. “This refers to bowel habits, but also to things like sweating appropriately and keeping the body at the right temperature.” It was thought that excretion, in all its forms, helped keep the four humours balanced. If one humour accumulated excessively, it could be expelled through sweating, urination, bleeding, or purging. Bloodletting in particular became a standard treatment in later medical traditions influenced by humoural theory. Read more | Blood, guts and spectacle: 6 shocking events from the history of ancient Roman gladiators Although we don’t think about regulating our excretions in terms of bloodletting and purging like the Greeks did, the increasing awareness of gut health – and therefore its impact on the bowel – is perhaps a modern descendant of this idea. Passions of the mind “The very last one is usually called the passions of the mind, which we read today as emotions,” Handley says. “So emotional health, making sure that you were not getting too angry, too sad, and keeping your mind and body in a good balance.” Different emotions were associated with excesses of the four humours, so keeping your emotions in check contributed to your humoural balance. Too much blood might make you too happy and too much phlegm might make you too reserved, while too much black bile might make you melancholic and too much yellow bile might make you angry. Read more | Give away your worries, like an ancient Mesopotamian Clearly this idea links to our modern understanding of mental health – especially now we know that physical health and exercise are linked to mental health. How similar are the non-naturals to ‘wellness’ today? Nowadays, we think of ‘wellness’ as separate from ‘health’. Where health is the absence of disease, and wellness is a more general emotional and physical wellbeing that we can influence via lifestyle factors. The ancient Greeks thought the same. Health was seen as the responsibility of individuals to regulate their non-naturals to look after their own health, and maybe even avoid having to see a doctor. Read more | Are you healthier than a Roman? These ancient secrets for longevity are still shockingly relevant There was an element of taking personal responsibility for good health, leading to the idea that bad habits could cause certain diseases. But the six non-naturals also worked in tandem with the ‘naturals’ – or the innate factors that we have no control over that also cause disease. Today, we see things similarly: some diseases and conditions are caused by lifestyle factors, whereas others develop independently of how we live. And just like modern ‘wellness,’ ancient Greek health was about more than just the body, too. Medical knowledge was intertwined with ethics, morality, politics, and philosophy – which is why many of the most famous Greek physicians, such as Galen and Hippocrates, were also philosophers, and many philosophers also mused on issues of the body. The ancient Greeks actually thought that achieving perfect health was essentially impossible since it required a precise balance of the humours, which changed every day. Instead, a ‘neutral’ body was the goal – something that doesn’t necessarily align with modern ideas on health optimisation and biohacking. Dr David Musgrove was speaking to Sasha Handley on the HistoryExtra podcast. Listen to the full conversation.
4,500 years ago, Arctic Greenland's Paleo-Inuit made terrifying ocean voyages. Why did they risk it?
Archaeological evidence from one of the High Arctic’s most dangerous marine environments reveals that the region’s earliest inhabitants were expert seafarers who undertook perilous open-ocean journeys
Archaeologists have repeatedly underestimated the seafaring abilities of prehistoric peoples. From the maritime traditions of Polynesia to the first crossings into the landmass known as Sahul – the prehistoric continent that once connected Australia, New Guinea, and Tasmania – over 60,000 years ago, claims of early ocean travel have often been met with raised eyebrows. After all, it can be difficult to imagine how these humans crossed vast spans of dangerous water with such limited technology. The prehistoric people who inhabited the Arctic have been no exception to this scepticism. Archaeologists refer to these early Arctic inhabitants as Early Paleo-Inuit: small and mobile hunting communities who lived across northern Greenland and Arctic Canada between roughly 4,500 and 2,800 years ago. For much of the 20th century, archaeologists assumed these communities were a land-based people, edging into frozen landscapes as ice sheets retreated, opening up new inland routes, rather than venturing across open water. This view was shaped in part by the scarcity of evidence for boats and marine hunting technology, because organic materials such as boats, paddles and skins rarely survive in the archaeological record. This lack of preservation is still a problem faced by archaeologists today. As a result, the true extent of prehistoric maritime activity in the Arctic – and across the globe – has long remained uncertain. But a new discovery from northern Greenland is now challenging this long-standing view, providing the strongest evidence yet for something some Arctic specialists have long suspected. How the Early Paleo-Inuit reached northern Greenland In the far north of Greenland, beyond the limits of permanent modern settlement, sits a small archipelago called Kitsissut. More than 700 kilometres north of the Arctic Circle, this cluster of islands sits at a similar latitude to Norway’s Svalbard; one of the coldest and most ice-bound places on Earth. Reaching these islands by water is still a risk today, due to perilous currents and extreme weather conditions. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2026/02/A-view-of-the-crossing-between-Kitsissut-and-shores-of-Avanersuaq-NW-Greenland-with-a-minimum-of-distance-of-53km.-The-archaeological-beach-ridges-at-Isbjorne-Island-can-be-seen-in-the-foreground-6971dd7-e1771339327508.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="Cold, open water separates the Kitsissut archipelago from the Greenland mainland. Even today, crossing this stretch of Arctic sea is hazardous — yet archaeological evidence suggests Early Paleo-Inuit communities were making journeys of more than 50 kilometres here nearly 4,500 years ago." title="A view of the crossing between Kitsissut and shores of Avanersuaq (NW Greenland), with a minimum of distance of 53km. The archaeological beach ridges at Isbjørne Island can be seen in the foreground" /> However, new archaeological research published in the journal Antiquity shows that almost 4,500 years ago – in the early Bronze Age, when the Old Kingdom of ancient Egypt was still at the height of its power – ancestors of modern Inuit populations were making this journey using nothing more than small boats constructed from animal skins stretched over lightweight timber frames. The discovery challenges long-standing assumptions about how the Arctic was first inhabited. The region’s earliest peoples now appear to have been highly skilled seafarers, capable of repeated long-distance open-water voyages. Read more | Who owns Greenland? Why the island's history is more complicated than you think Reaching Kitsissut from the nearest known Early Paleo-Inuit settlement would have required an extraordinarily risky journey of more than 50 kilometres across open water. According to the researchers, this is the longest sea journey that can be confidently inferred for this period anywhere in the Arctic. “That’s an extraordinary voyage in small skin-on-frame watercraft,” says Matthew Walls, the study’s lead author and an associate professor at the University of Calgary. “It would have required facing erratic weather, strong crosswinds, powerful currents and very high risk of being swept into the expanse of Baffin Bay.” Why did the Early Paleo-Inuit head for Kitsissut? But the question is not just how these people reached Kitsissut, but rather what could have drawn these people so far north, into such treacherous places. The answer can be found in the Kitsissut islands’ location within Pikialasorsuaq, also known as the North Water polynya – a vast stretch of ocean between northern Greenland and Canada that remains ice-free even during the harsh Arctic winter. Polynyas form when ocean currents, winds and temperature differences prevent sea ice from forming despite sub-zero conditions. They are rare zones of open water amid otherwise frozen seas. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2026/02/Archaeological-beach-ridges-and-field-camp-at-Isbjorne-Island-Kitsissut.-The-nesting-cliffs-for-AppatThick-Billed-Murre-Uria-lomvia-towers-in-the-background-7c63598-e1771339680320.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="An archaeological field camp sits below the steep nesting cliffs of thick-billed murres on Isbjørne Island. Such seabird colonies, sustained by the nearby North Water polynya, would have provided a dense and predictable food source for Early Paleo-Inuit visitors." title="Archaeological beach ridges and field camp at Isbjørne Island, Kitsissut. The nesting cliffs for Appat_Thick Billed Murre (Uria lomvia) towers in the background" /> Unsurprisingly, polynyas are ecological hotspots. They provide refuge for huge numbers of fish and marine mammals, as well as vast seabird colonies – a rare concentration of food in an otherwise extremely challenging environment. Commenting on the news to HistoryExtra, Professor Robert W Park, a specialist in Arctic archaeology at the University of Waterloo, explains that the seasonal importance of polynyas to Inuit communities would have been critical, especially in the coldest months. “During the cold part of the Arctic year, prey species need access to open water, and the polynya is the only place that stays open,” he says. “Every other part of the ocean is completely frozen.” As a result, resources become highly concentrated around polynyas in winter and spring. “That’s when people would be there,” Park adds, “not during the summer, when resources are widely distributed across the land and ocean, and when there are long stretches of open water.” But the same forces that make polynyas rich in wildlife also make them exceptionally dangerous to cross. Navigating these zones would have meant accepting the risks posed by freezing water temperatures and drifting sea ice capable of crushing small boats. Read more | A thousand years ago, the Vikings had a shock encounter with Native Americans that ended in disaster For all the danger, Park notes that these journeys may not always have involved crossing uninterrupted stretches of open water. Instead, boats may have been used “not to traverse 50 kilometres of open water, but rather to travel and hunt in the patches of open water (called ‘leads’) between broken ice, [with people] hauling their boats up onto the ice when the leads close.” The archaeological evidence of repeated Arctic voyages No matter how far the open water crossings were, the evidence makes it clear that Kitsissut wasn’t reached by chance – for example, by a lone boat knocked off course. Instead, generations of people returned to the islands again and again, over many centuries. These conclusions are based on an extensive archaeological survey conducted on the central islands of the archipelago. Researchers documented nearly 300 archaeological features, including Early Paleo-Inuit tent rings and hearths. Tent rings – circles of stones used to anchor skin tents – are among the most common structural traces left by highly mobile Arctic cultures. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2026/02/archaeologist-standing-over-rocky-beach-with-tent-ring-evidence-e1771340346171.jpeg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="Stone tent rings — circles once used to anchor skin tents against Arctic winds — remain scattered across raised beach ridges in Kitsissut. Despite their modest appearance, such features reveal generations of repeated seasonal visits." title="archaeologist-standing-over-rocky-beach-with-tent-ring-evidence" /> Many of these features cluster beneath towering seabird cliffs, where thick-billed murres nest by the thousands, creating a rich and predictable food source. Radiocarbon dating of seabird bone recovered from one dwelling places human activity at the site between roughly 4,400 and 3,900 years ago, coinciding with the early formation of the polynya itself. This overlap suggests that human movement into the region occurred as this emerging ecological system became stable enough to support dense wildlife populations – highlighting the depth of Early Paleo-Inuit environmental knowledge. “The fact that these early communities made this journey regularly, transporting families and supplies to access seasonal resources like seabird colonies at the islands, demonstrates a level of maritime skill that reshapes our understanding of this period,” Walls says. As he adds, “reaching Kitsissut required skills that would have been a defining part of social life, passed down and refined as each generation re-learned by going out into the sea to travel and hunt.” Arctic seafaring in a global context This discovery fits within a broader pattern of archaeology’s long struggle to accurately capture early sea travel. Comparable distances once seemed implausible in other prehistoric contexts as well. Archaeological estimates of Polynesian voyaging ranges, for example, were routinely underestimated until experimental archaeology and indigenous knowledge demonstrated the true capabilities of early sea vessels. Read more | What happened to the people of Rapa Nui? Speaking to HistoryExtra, Professor Sue Hamilton, former director of the UCL Institute of Archaeology, says that any comparisons between the Early Paleo-Inuit and Polynesian ocean crossings “are too separated in time, place, and environmental context to compare” – other than in terms of “the vastness of their ocean contexts.” She explains that “the Polynesians travelled vast distances across the Pacific in double hulled canoes, using complex navigational observations relying on the stars, ocean swells, bird flights, and wind patterns.” These journeys involved crossing up to 300 kilometres of open ocean for up to three weeks, often against prevailing winds. However, what does link the significance of the new research to this broader pattern, Hamilton says, is that in each case “watercraft had a central role in subsistence, social and ecological structure and survival.”
From secret cults to Christianity, how did ancient Roman religion change so dramatically?
Ancient Rome didn’t abandon its gods overnight. The rise of Christianity was a slow transformation of the cult-based religious order that had structured Roman life for centuries
The word ‘cult’ is a loaded one in modern language. It might make you think of hooded figures huddled in dark rooms, perhaps organised around a singularly charismatic leader who exercises immense control over members’ lives. But in the ancient Roman empire, cults were an ordinary cornerstone of society and a pillar of religious life. This difference between modern and ancient Roman notions of cults is central to understanding one of the most significant social transformations in western history: how the Roman world moved from a polytheistic system of many gods, to a Christian empire centred on a single deity – the Abrahamic God. As professor Philip Freeman explains, “the word cult tends to have a negative connotation, but it’s actually a good word, and we use it all the time in academic contexts.” So what exactly were these cults, and what impact did they have on the death of the old Roman gods, and the adoption of Christianity? Roman religion as social infrastructure The Romans were far less concerned with what individuals believed internally than with whether they performed the correct rituals in the proper way. There was no sacred book that defined orthodoxy, and no central institution equivalent to a church. Instead, religion functioned through a web of practices embedded in everyday life and anchored around cults. Cults were places where people met regularly, shared meals and honoured a god together. “Think of a cult as a social group,” says Freeman, who was speaking on the HistoryExtra podcast. One of the clearest examples of a cult still exists beneath modern London. “If you go to the financial district, you can visit the Temple of Mithras in the basement of a bank,” Freeman says. This temple, dedicated to the god Mithras, was discovered in the 1950s. Mithraism was one of the most widespread cults in the Roman world, especially among soldiers and officials. Read more | Constantine the Great: the emperor who created Europe “That was a cult found all over the Roman empire. It was dedicated to a god, it was male-only, and it functioned as a social club as well as a religious one. There were sacrifices and ritual practices, but it was also a way to make friends and to establish business relationships.” Pluralism as the Roman norm An aspect of Roman religion that’s crucial to understanding how Christianity took hold is that the Romans didn’t see gods and religions as mutually exclusive. A single individual might honour household gods at home, take part in public sacrifices to civic deities, belong to a professional cult, and also be initiated into a mystery cult such as those of Mithras or Isis. None of this was contradictory. “There was enormous variety,” Freeman says. “Some cults were absolutely secret, you could never know what went on inside them. Others were much more open.” Read more | Roman medicine: 6 ways people stayed healthy in ancient Rome This pluralism made Roman religion extraordinarily resilient. New gods could be added without threatening old ones, while local traditions could coexist with empire-wide cults. As Rome expanded, it absorbed foreign deities rather than repressing them, often identifying them with Roman gods through a process historians call interpretatio romana. This was a way of integrating new communities into Roman life. Christianity emerged “in a Roman province called Palestine at the very start of the first century AD,” Freeman explains. It developed initially within Jewish communities, sharing many of their scriptures and traditions, before gradually attracting non-Jewish converts. At first, it was a small, local cult among many. What made it different was its exclusivity. Christians rejected the system of many gods, rather than adding their god to the system. They refused to worship other deities, rejected the practice of sacrifice, and refused to honour the emperor as a divine figure. This alarmed the Roman authorities. Religion was a public expression of loyalty and social participation. Performing sacrifices was seen as a civic duty that helped maintain harmony between gods and state. Refusing to take part at first seemed anti-Roman, and subversive. Read more | Rome's worst nightmare: the story of Spartacus This helps explain why Christianity faced periodic persecution from the outset. “It takes more than 300 years before Christianity is accepted officially under Emperor Constantine,” Freeman says. Even then, acceptance didn’t mean dominance. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2026/02/GettyImages-1357713099-0359257-e1770984356984.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="This gold coin, struck in Antioch in AD 324–325, bears the portrait of Emperor Constantine I, the ruler who transformed the Roman empire’s religious landscape. After endorsing Christianity with the Edict of Milan in 313 and convening the Council of Nicaea in 325, Constantine paved the way for the faith’s imperial acceptance." title="Solidus (Coin) Portraying Emperor Constantine I" /> How Christianity learned to behave like a Roman cult One reason Christianity survived long enough to gain imperial support was that it gradually came to resemble the cults that Romans were already familiar with and understood. Like the cults, Christian communities were close-knit networks with shared rituals and mutual aid. But unlike many cults, they were inclusive, and open to men and women alike. They cared for the sick and poor, creating threads of loyalty that went beyond religious norms. These social benefits were particularly attractive in times of epidemic, famine and economic instability – all intermittent challenges faced by the Roman empire as it progressed past the turn of the millennium. Read more | Alice Roberts: “Christianity didn’t invent itself as an empire from nothing: it adapted existing Roman structures” At the same time, Christianity adapted culturally. Freeman stresses that early Christians were pragmatic. “Christians recognised that they were not going to defeat polytheism quickly. The process had to be gradual. “If a particular goddess was popular and people enjoyed worshipping her, Christians might say, ‘This is very much like the Virgin Mary.’” This strategy allowed for a feeling of continuity in daily religious life, even as the theological meanings shifted. The long fading of the old Roman gods Even after Christianity gained imperial backing in the fourth century AD, traditional religions didn’t vanish. Imperial laws against pagan worship were unevenly enforced, especially outside major cities. Freeman points out that “we have records from after the fall of the Roman empire showing that people in Italy, even in Rome itself, were still worshipping other gods and goddesses.” Christian writers repeatedly complained about stubborn pagan practices. So when did the Roman gods truly disappear? “If forced to give a date, I would probably say by the sixth century AD the old pagan religion was gone.” By then, major temples had closed and state support for non-Christian worship had ended. Christianity hadn’t destroyed the cult system, so much as it had adapted to it. Professor Philip Freeman was speaking to Emily Briffett on the HistoryExtra podcast. Listen to the full conversation.
Meet the “grossly underappreciated” Roman emperor who became the enemy of the ancient world
Ancient Rome’s reputation for bad emperors partly rests on hostile sources written after the fact – and Domitian may be the clearest case of how politics shaped historical memory
The moral map of the Roman empire might seem fairly simple. There were good emperors, who governed wisely and brought stability, and there were bad emperors, whose tenures dissolved into cruelty and paranoia. Nero and Caligula are the names most firmly and famously in the latter category – but Domitian, who ruled from AD 81 to 96, is often considered not far behind. But according to historian Edward J Watts our certainty about the flaws of these ‘worst’ Roman emperors rests on shaky foundations. And as for Domitian? “He is grossly underappreciated,” says Watts, speaking on the HistoryExtra podcast. How ancient Roman history was written Most surviving narratives of the early Roman emperors who followed Julius Caesar were written decades after the events they describe. Their authors were members of Rome’s senatorial and literary elite, who were deeply invested in the dynamics and mechanics of power. What they were not, Watts asserts, were neutral observers. Among the most influential was Suetonius, who Watts describes as “an incredibly gifted biographer”. His account The Twelve Caesars remains one of the most widely read accounts of imperial Rome. It gives us biographies of Julius Caesar, and then the next 11 emperors. Why end there? The answers, says Watts, is “because the last of them is the emperor Domitian”. Read more | Long before the ancient Roman empire, a rival superpower looked set for supremacy The narrative arc culminates in Domitian’s reign as emperor. He is presented as the endpoint of Rome’s moral and political decline. His assassination is framed as a cleansing restoration, clearing the way for a new and better order to take root. That framing shaped how later generations understood both Domitian and the nature of imperial power itself, says Watts. Caesar: Death of a Dictator Member exclusive | On the Ides of March 44 BC, the most famous Roman in history was murdered. Julius Caesar's assassination transformed Rome forever, and the image of his bloody toga has haunted monarchs and tyrants ever since. Listen to all episodes now Domitian and the Senate Domitian was the third and final member of the Flavian dynasty of Roman emperors, beginning with Vespasian in AD 69. He was succeeded by his son Titus in AD 79, who in turn was succeeded by second son Domitian in AD 81. Unlike earlier emperors who attempted to maintain a display of senatorial partnership, Domitian ruled as an open and unapologetic autocrat. “Domitian was, I think, a wonderfully underappreciated figure,” says Watts. “Because what Domitian does is he finds talented people like Suetonius, who are bouncing around at the very lowest levels of Roman elite life, and he turbocharges them. “He had a difficult relationship with the Roman Senate, and he wanted new people in positions of power whom he knew he could trust.” By promoting capable administrators without deep senatorial pedigrees, Domitian weakened the traditional aristocracy’s grip on the state. From a practical standpoint, the policy worked. Under Domitian, Rome’s imperial financial and administrative efforts were stabilised, and the empire avoided civil war for 15 years – a considerable achievement by Roman standards. From the Senate’s perspective, however, this circumvention was intolerable and created a deep resentment. Domitian’s assassination, and the Roman art of political survival Domitian was assassinated in AD 96 by a palace conspiracy that included his chamberlain, Parthenius, and his wife, Domitia Longina. “The new regime that comes in disavows Domitian and calls him a tyrant,” says Watts. That denunciation placed prominent figures who had flourished under Domitian in an awkward position. Writers such as Tacitus and Pliny the Younger had built careers under Domitian’s rule, benefiting from a system that was now being denounced. “And all of these people, including Suetonius, but also Tacitus, and also Pliny, scramble to figure out how they, who benefited from their close relationship with Domitian, can now find a place for themselves in this new regime,” says Watts. “And so they turn on Domitian really, really aggressively. They write these histories of the emperors before the new regime as tyrants.” Condemning Domitian served two purposes: it legitimised the new order and distanced its beneficiaries from the fallen emperor. Creating Rome’s canonical villains “Suetonius’s imperial biography explicitly goes through the succession and ends with Domitian as this horrible figure,” says Watts. “He also does a tremendous number on Caligula, and on Nero as well. That’s where these legendary ‘terrible emperors’ get their initial reputations.” But Watts argues that not all of these emperors were equally bad – if bad at all. Aside from Caligula. “I have tried really hard to redeem Caligula,” Watts admits. “I don’t think that can be done.” Caligula came to power in AD 37 and, according to multiple hostile sources, rapidly descended into paranoia. “He gets very sick a few months into his reign,” Watts explains. “He believes he was poisoned, and he becomes extremely paranoid.” The consistency of accounts describing arbitrary violence and psychological instability make it difficult to dismiss Caligula’s reputation as mere propaganda. “I don’t think there’s any way to rationalise what he’s doing,” Watts says. Read more | If ancient Romans didn't understand calories, how was their theory of nutrition so accurate? Watts paints Nero, however, as a more nuanced case. “I think Nero is complicated,” Watts says. Early in his reign, Nero pursued popular reforms and cultivated public support. But his ambitions outpaced his abilities. “He had ideas that made sense; he was just too incompetent and foolish to execute them.” Over time, his rule became increasingly violent and erratic, culminating in acts – such as the murder of his mother and brutal reprisals against perceived enemies – that hardened his reputation. “He was very vicious,” Watts says. Conversely, Domitian was effective in executing his wishes, but he was also demanding and deeply suspicious of opposition. “With Domitian, I think he just gets a bad rap,” Watts says. “I think the political circumstances under which Suetonius, Tacitus, and Pliny are all writing mean that they almost by necessity are going to give him the worst possible reputation they can.” Edward J Watts was speaking to Spencer Mizen on the HistoryExtra podcast. Listen to the full conversation.