The Problem of Barbarians

Dachs

Hero of the Soviet Union
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I have, for a very long time, made noises about posting a history article on the fall of the Roman Empire in the West. Unfortunately, I am very lazy and, worse, very distracted by summer classes, screwing around, the American Civil War, and Dragon Age II (in that order).

Since I've been inexcusably procrastinating for so long, and since this topic comes up so much (mostly in the OT, which is where I really ought to have posted this but didn't, because it would be moved anyway, even though it's most badly needed by the denizens of that particular subforum), I'm reposting an article here. It's a transcript of a paper given by Guy Halsall, a professor at the University of York and one of the preeminent historians doing good analysis on Late Antiquity in Western Europe, on why we - people discussing the fall of the Roman Empire in the West - "need" the barbarians. Since he's much better at getting his point across than I am, I'll just let him speak for himself. Original paper - which was delivered at the International Medieval Congress in Leeds - is located here, on his blog Historian on the Edge. The formatting - and as such, the formatting mistakes and failures to get across the author's original intent - is all mine.

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My contribution to these sessions is essentially to sum up by asking you one big question: why do we need the barbarians? For it seems that we really do need the barbarians. The answer was found, or at least suggested, in 1904 by C.P. Cavafy in his famous, much quoted, poem “Waiting for the Barbarians” (even quoted, inexplicably, in the names of chic jewellery boutiques in the 7me arrondissement in Paris, as left):

“Because night has fallen and the barbarians haven’t come
And some of our men just in from the border say
There are no barbarians any longer.

“Now what’s going to happen to us without the barbarians?
Those people were a kind of solution.”

He was right; the bigger question, a hundred years on from Cavafy, is probably ‘a solution to what?’ As far as I can see, the problem which they solve cannot be ‘why did the Roman Empire fall?’ The barbarians’ role in any analysis of the Empire’s collapse must surely be sought under ‘consequences’ or ‘effects’ or – perhaps better – ‘components’, rather than under ‘causes’. If one looks at the matter in simple descriptive terms, the number of provinces or amount of territory actually conquered by barbarians during the fifth century is minimal. Note that the general move, in the colour scheme adopted in these maps [a reference to the PowerPoint Slides, I'm afraid, but they were simply the maps in Barbarian Migrations], is rarely from white to black, from Roman rule to barbarian rule, but from white to some shade of grey, either as a federate kingdom or as an area simply where the write of the Ravennate court did not run.

North Africa is probably the only example of a province conquered directly from the Empire by barbarians, their occupation being recognised by a Treaty in 442. Even then, however, quite what that ‘treaty’ implied is not very clear. The Vandals acquired control of Byzacena, Numidia and Procunsularis but what did that mean, exactly? I’m not sure we actually know. More important is Huneric’s betrothal to Eudocia, something which meant that, had they had any children by the time of Valentinian III’s death in 455, they would presumably have been regarded by many as legitimate heirs to the throne of the Empire. The Vandals regarded their links with the imperial house very seriously and, furthermore, Vandal raids on the West stopped after 442, precisely until the murder of Huneric’s father-in-law, Valentinian III in 455, when war broke out again. Geiseric wanted to place Huneric’s Roman brother-in-law Olybrius on the throne, restoring the Vandals’ legitimate Theodosian dynastic position at the heart of the Empire. This was finally achieved, and with it another treaty recognising their position at the heart of the Empire, in early 472. Only Olybrius’ inconsiderate death, some months later, plunged the Vandals back into the cold, where they, like all the other factional losers in fifth-century politics, settled for a kingdom.

This serves as a very good example of fifth-century western politics, which cannot by any stretch of the imagination be characterised by struggles between defending Romans and invading Barbarians. Everywhere within the western Roman world, where we have any evidence, what we discern is the alliance between military and civilian élites, usually but far from entirely in the form of soldiers with barbarian identities and local provincial aristocrats, forming factions competing for power within the political structures established in the fourth century. Fifth-century history is one of repeated failures by various factions to consolidate a position at the heart of the Empire by re-establishing direct control over all the other regions and their factions. Such failures were by no means predestined: sixth-century history shows how dramatic the results of a single significant military success could be. Even as late as 471 it was far from impossible that the situation could be restored. However, successes were indecisive, and failure usually led merely to a retreat into de facto autonomy in the region where one’s power base was located and frequently the assumption of the title of king: a pattern repeated over and over. This point matters. It suggests that the grand narrative of the attempts by barbarians to conquer lands and create independent kingdoms within the Empire is, fundamentally, empirically mistaken. I cannot find any support for the idea that kingship was the preferred aim of any ‘barbarian’ leader in the fifth century – and let’s remember that most of the so-called barbarian leaders of the fifth century were actually born and raised within Roman territory.

But that grand narrative, of barbarian invasion, conquest and kingdom-creation, is hugely problematic. I have taught a Masters’ Degree course called ‘Renegotiating Rome’ in which we look serially at different forms of data from the fifth century – settlements, burials, annalistic sources, literature, art – and compare the story those forms of evidence tell with the grand narratives of modern histories. What we have found (to an extent that I was quite unprepared for) is not merely that those narratives barely resemble modern reconstructions, but how another set of stories emerges. One is how little fifth-century contemporaries were actually interested in the barbarians – except in long-established rhetorical ways. The other - which makes a bigger problem for my own book on this period than it does for its competitors – is that the real fifth-century grand narrative concerns a shift in the way the world was divided up: from a system within which the ideal Roman male occupied the central position, with other identities – barbarian, female, animal – defined by their closeness to or distance from this single pole of attraction, to one in which the centre being competed for was defined by religious orthodoxy. Others were categorised by their distance from this. This is not incommensurate with the narrative of the break-up of the western Empire; it is crucial to that break-up. Nor is it incompatible with the fracturing of political identity into a series of identities based largely, though far from exclusively, around different barbarian ethnicities. But it does suggest that seeing the fifth-century in these terms is well wide of the mark.

Why, then, are people so wedded to the barbarians as the major cause for any and all change in the late antique west? For they are. Here is a, in a way quite minor, but nevertheless rather good, example that I came across in Paris a couple of weeks ago, of how anything and everything can be pinned on the barbarians, whether in terms of presence or absence:

It comes from an article about antler-working in the towns of the Meuse Valley which, for those not in the know, is not conventionally regarded as in The Germanic World. “The Meuse valley sites, presenting continuous occupation from the Roman period into the Merovingian, show that the working of antler found its roots in the Germanic world.” The author then moves on to explain that this is because early Romans didn’t use antler very much but late Romans did, and the late Roman period was when the Germanic ‘tribes’ (the word used) were settled in northern Gaul. He then discusses why antler is actually a better material than bone for making combs… Why Romans can’t just change to using a better material, within the Roman period after all, is left unexplained.

Historians are not immune from similarly bizarre reasoning, of course. The counter-revisionist offensive (I use the word deliberately) against more subtle ways of thinking about the fifth century has been led by British historians from Oxford. Peter Heather has repeatedly deployed the notion that, because wagons, women and children are occasionally mentioned in sources concerning the barbarians, the barbarians must have been ‘peoples’ on the move. Here (right) is Roger Fenton’s photograph of the cook-house of the 8th Hussars in the Crimea, probably in 1855. The British expedition to the Crimea is surely, uncontroversially, the movement of an army rather than a migration of people, in spite of the clearly documented presence here of A: a wagon, and B: a woman. Actually you can stay in the Roman period and find more than enough references to wagons, women and children in accounts of the Roman army. Such are the weakness and double-standards of the arguments in favour of the traditional narrative. You can list many more.

To this one can add the logical knots that traditionalist archaeologists tie themselves in, to maintain that things like furnished inhumation, for which there is no prima facie evidence to support a ‘Germanic’ origin, is the sign of barbarian settlement. Or the arguments in favour of the Grubenhaus being a similar index. The Grubenhaus is now known from all over western Europe within and without the Roman Empire’s frontiers, in particular in North-Western Germany, northern France and in England. It is known in northern Gaul from the third century but only from the fifth on the coastal sites of the Anglo-Saxon homelands and in England. To make this a Germanic cultural artefact requires us to assume that two different Germanic groups with significantly different archaeology in their homelands moved to different parts of the Roman Empire, where they suddenly started producing settlements that were remarkably similar. In any other period, even in the early middle ages, the hypothesis would be that the ‘grub-hut’ was part of a common response to similar social economic crises in different areas of north-western Europe, with influences as likely coming from the Empire to barbaricum (indeed perhaps more likely in that direction given the overwhelming direction of cultural influences documented in that period) as in the opposite direction, from barbarian territory to Roman. Yet here we are supposed to see people’s ethnic identity, related to their geographical origins, as simply manifested in these buildings, even to the extent that minor details of planning of SFBs are alluded to, to prove their ‘Anglo-Saxon’ credentials. Influence can’t move from the Empire to barbaricum (even though it demonstrably did!) because the barbarians didn’t move in that direction.

Thus far, I hope, I have shown that the barbarian invasions grand-narrative is, when moving from simple description to explanation, empirically dubious but that, inaccurate and misleading and mired in questionable preconceptions though it is, large numbers of archaeologists and historians continue to cling to it, to the extent of deploying some of the most absurd arguments to justify it. Why?

One reason is probably the weakness of the alternatives and responses to it. Some have moved perilously close to denying that migrations ever took place. A French amateur archaeologist called Alain Simmer indeed has said outright that there was no Germanic migration into Lorraine. One reason why the traditional narrative remains ensconced as firmly as it is is that these arguments have, if anything, frequently been at least as absurd as those in favour of the old style Völkerwanderung. Another is that most minimalist arguments do not, in fact, challenge the master narrative. The barbarians still conquered the various territories of the Empire and thus brought down the imperial state; there just weren’t as many of them – they were a military élite. Sometimes this is descriptively a better reading, but it doesn’t change the story except in its details and, because of that, the explanation can become less satisfactory. The ‘late antique problematic’ has a curiously schitzophrenic attitude to barbarians. For the last forty years or so, it has promoted – rightly on the whole – a view which sees the development of the Roman world (however defined) within the framework of specifically later Roman features, moving away from a sharp break in the fifth century. Longer-term trajectories are preferred, and the inheritance of Rome stressed. And yet, when it comes to the western Empire’s demise, the late antique paradigm has evidently developed no alternative to seeing the West beaten down by waves of barbarians whom it couldn’t keep out. Partly, I am sure, this stems from the largely Mediterranean – eastern Mediterranean – focus of late antiquity studies, and from their concentration on cultural and religious history. This ought to be an irony given what I said about the essentially religious master-narrative that our fifth-century sources actually tell. The last alternative is the ‘Rome never fell’ approach, now sadly more or less whole-heartedly subscribed to by Walter Goffart. This approach does not deny that there were barbarian migrations; it just denies them any significant role in history: utterly irrelevant features of a process which didn’t actually happen anyway!

Thus we can have Ward-Perkins’ sneering parody of late antiquity studies and Peter Heather’s distortions of counter-arguments. In many people’s minds the choices before us are evidently, either, that nothing happened, or, that there was a huge catastrophe caused entirely by invading barbarians. Obviously this is not the case. Plenty of people other than me – most famously, Walter Pohl – have written about serious, dramatic change happening in the fifth century without blaming it on the barbarians and without denying that there were migrations in the fifth century. Yet this – if I dare call it such – third way seems nevertheless to be very much a minority position.

But I am not convinced that a simple lack of exposure to sensible alternatives really explains the continuing, fanatical devotion to the idea of the barbarian migrations, especially outside the academy.

I have recently said that:

Halsall said:
When a British historian places an argument that the Roman Empire fell because of the immigration of large numbers of barbarians next to arguments that the end of Rome was the end of civilisation and that we need to take care to preserve our own civilisation, when another British historian writes sentences saying ‘the connection between immigrant violence and the collapse of the western Empire could not be more direct’, and especially when the arguments of both involve considerable distortions of the evidence to fit their theories, one cannot help but wonder whether these authors are wicked, irresponsible or merely stupid.

Obviously, these are not mutually exclusive alternatives…

Are these writers setting themselves up as ideologues of the xenophobic Right or have they simply not realised the uses to which such careless thinking and phrasing can be put? You can draw your own conclusions, although it is worth noting that Ward-Perkins has been happy enough to write on this subject for the neo-liberal magazine Standpoint, which regularly publishes pieces attacking multiculturalism. There comes a point when one has to admit that actually the most charitable explanation for all this really is that these writers are simply a bit dim.

Outside academic circles, it is certainly the case that the adhesion to the idea of barbarian invasion has a heavily right-wing political dimension. Apart from the barbarians’ role as metaphor, already discussed, it is worth, very briefly, thinking about the other reasons why people are so ready to pin the blame on the barbarians. Slavoj Žižek’s Lacanian analysis of antisemitism provides some valuable ways forward. Essentially, the barbarian, like the figure of the Jew, acts as a screen between the subject and a confrontation with the Real, which Žižek sees, slightly differently from Lacan, as the pre-symbolised; things that haven’t been or can’t or won’t be encompassed in a world view. Žižek showed that arguments that ‘the Jews aren’t like that’ are almost never effective against anti-Semites because what real Jews (or actual immigrants, one might say) are like is not the point. Similarly, arguments about the empirical reality of the fifth-century cut little weight with those wedded to the idea of Barbarian Invasion. Just as the anti-Semite takes factual evidence as more proof of the existence of the international Zionist conspiracy, the right-wing devotee of the Barbarian Invasions sees factual counter-arguments as manifestations of the liberal, left-wing academy peddling its dangerous multicultural political correctness. I have read a great deal of this on internet discussion lists – including a review of my own book, and one of James O’Donnell’s! Michael Kulikowski received a similarly-phrased review from a right-wing academic ancient historian.

The barbarian is the classic ‘subject presumed to’. The barbarian can change the world; he can bring down empires; he can create kingdoms. The barbarian dominates history. ‘He’ is not like ‘us’, enmeshed in our laws, our little lives and petty responsibilities. The barbarians – and you only need to read Peter Heather to see this – are peoples with ‘coherent aims’ (a quote), which they set out single-mindedly to achieve. No people in the whole of recorded human history have ever had single coherent sets of aims. Well – none other than the barbarians anyway.

What do we get if we lift the veil of the barbarian? We are presented with a picture of a world where things were much messier, where the barbarians did not occupy a separate world, which existed in binary, frequently hostile, opposition to the Empire. Where a dominant culture has a responsibility to those it dominates within its world and where it becomes responsible for stress in that other part of the world which it dominates, including stress that results, unsurprisingly in migration towards and into the dominant civilisation’s territory. Move the barbarian ‘subject presumed to’ and we have to face up to the historical reality of destructive stress caused by social inequalities, by self-serving rivalry amongst the political élite, rivalry – at base - to control more of the material and cultural fruits of the surplus generated by the empire. It is a picture where history unfolds as ‘contingency, singularity [and] risk’, to take a phrase from Roland Barthes – events occurring in chaotic constellation and kaleidoscopic sequence. This is not a comforting vision. Far better to hang the veil of the barbarian, the subject presumed to evade all the normal rules of history, between us and it. If the figure of the barbarian ruins everything no one can be blamed for that; no one can control the barbarian.

If we, as late antique historians and archaeologists wish to do something more than inhabit an airless ivory tower, if we want to take our responsibilities to society seriously, then the most important duty facing us today is to rip that veil away.

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So, discussion points.

I do not really expect the particulars of Halsall's argument to be serious contention for discussion, although I hope they would be. And I'm far too disconnected from British academia to be able to say whether some of this really is evidentiary of a certain mode of thinking among certain of the historians who write about "immigrant violence" and the fall of the Roman Empire - although considering what I know of other British historians and of the upheaval in British academia these days, I guess it isn't out of the realm of possibility! (A depressing conclusion, to say the least.)

What I am interested in is a reaction to the notion of the "idea of the barbarian" and to formulating a narrative of the collapse of Rome in the West without the so-called barbarians as the key players. Is such a narrative commensurate with the facts, as far as you know them? Can you - not you, plural nonspecific, but you, singular - explain the fall of Rome in Western Europe with the information at your disposal without resorting to discussing the so-called barbarians? Is the extent of your historical knowledge about the fall of Rome merely "Rome started sucking [because of Christianity?] and then [Germanic?] barbarians came, invaded the empire, and destroyed it"? Do you give a crap?
 
I must admit that my knowledge of Rome, especially post-Pax Romana Rome, is not that good. As such, I can't really say what my position is on the fall of Western Rome beyond the emperors-started-sucking-and-then-barbs-came narrative we're taught. However, I didn't really understand what the article was saying was the cause of Western Rome's fall. Could you clarify that please?
 
He's not supplying an alternative narrative: to get it, you'd have to read his books. But the alternative narrative he does propose in his other works is this: basically, the Roman Empire in the West suffered a crisis of elite management. From about 380 onward, the Emperors failed to balance the demands of Gaul and Italy, generating several destructive civil wars that eroded imperial central authority until, in the 470s, that central authority ceased to exist altogether.

So, from you, I get the sense that the barbarians are only brought up because you've got very little interest in the subject, haven't really learned the basic events, and only resort to the general conclusions given out by school history teachers and mediocre world-history textbooks? I mean, that's cool. Obviously part of Halsall's purpose is to point out that Real People need educating as to why and how the fall of the Roman Empire wasn't immigrant violence writ large.
 
So, from you, I get the sense that the barbarians are only brought up because you've got very little interest in the subject, haven't really learned the basic events, and only resort to the general conclusions given out by school history teachers and mediocre world-history textbooks? I mean, that's cool. Obviously part of Halsall's purpose is to point out that Real People need educating as to why and how the fall of the Roman Empire wasn't immigrant violence writ large.

Yep. Wouldn't describe it as cool though :blush:
 
Doesn't the root of the term "barbarian" lie in their speaking a language not understood by the one giving them that label? Maybe the fundamental breakdown is the fracturing of a social order by the inability to sustain discourse between varying subcultures. Or the dwindling effort to do so even when the ability exists.
 
Unfortunately, I am very lazy and, worse, very distracted by... the American Civil War.

:lol:

Interesting article. I thought you wrote it at first, and was wondering why you changed your posting style.
 
Doesn't the root of the term "barbarian" lie in their speaking a language not understood by the one giving them that label? Maybe the fundamental breakdown is the fracturing of a social order by the inability to sustain discourse between varying subcultures. Or the dwindling effort to do so even when the ability exists.
Barbaroi were, yeah, people who didn't speak Greek. (And later, Latin. Although, funnily, by the Later Roman Empire, most of the people that the Romans considered to be barbarians did speak Latin. Indeed, the Roman military - comprised mostly of people who were born inside the Roman Empire and who spoke Latin and who believed in the Christian God and who thought that the Roman Emperor was the rightful ruler of the world - consciously adopted "barbarian" motifs in dress, nomenclature, and even possibly social cues, because, as the cultural stereotype went, "barbarians" were good at fighting. This - and its prevalence among certain regional Roman aristocracies - has been described as "barbarian chic". Long parenthesis is long.)

But I don't think anybody's tried to say that the Roman Empire died because of fracturing between the center and people considered to be barbarians because of perceived cultural differences. Even the people who did think that barbarians invaded in large numbers and destroyed the Roman Empire don't say that they did it because of cultural differences. (Usually. Although the Nazis tried to.) I mean, the people in Roman Gaul weren't Asterix Gauls, they were mostly people who considered themselves Roman who had been speaking Latin so long they had their own regional dialect of it among everybody who wasn't in the aristocracy (just like they did in North Africa, incidentally). Besides, if there were cultural fractures between them and the people in Roman Italy or Roman Iberia, nobody cared, because the Little People weren't the ones with an ass-ton of money and access to soldiers. They couldn't make civil wars happen.

And the fractures between the Roman aristocracy in Italy and the Roman aristocracy in Gaul, which did exist and which Halsall does highlight in his book, weren't cultural ones, because the neat thing about the Roman aristocracy was that it was culturally unified to an almost stultifying degree. That fracture was mostly about differing aims: the loss of patronage appointments, the loss of the economic power of soldiers who had once been stationed there, the loss of imperial funds for local projects, and the like.

Politics is about figuring out how many important people you can successfully bribe, and by the late fourth century, the Emperors started being unable to bribe everybody, whether by mistakes (too many bribes to the wrong people) or by a simple inability to manage all of their elites. It's no coincidence that the Emperors from about 380 to the 450s tended to suck - not in terms of military prowess, although they sucked at that too, but in terms of spreading the wealth.
 
I hadn't heard of it and am somewhat leery of the idea, and I have to say, the little I saw on that website looked unpromising - the main guy doing most of that stuff doesn't seem to have a very good understanding of causation, and his "power scale" seems to be a rather silly metric. And I have a low opinion of anything that attempts to use historical examples to get something with predictive power, much less any sort of model that has pretensions at universality, because history is fundamentally contextual.

I'm not sure how much that site applies to the example of the Later Roman Empire, either. Unlike his example of Spain's New World colonies - an example I find dubious, but I don't know nearly as much about that as I do about Late Antiquity - the economy and tax receipts of the Western Roman state were not on the decline in the fourth century, they were actually going up, largely on the strength of the North African economy. The pie to divide up wasn't getting smaller, it was that the Emperors were incapable of dividing it up properly. From the tetrarchy to Valentinianus I, the Empire had had a long run of more or less competent leaders; from Honorius to Valentinianus III, the Empire had a subsequent run of more or less incompetent ones. I don't really see how that's indicative of any sort of entropic process at work. After all, the leaders subsequently got better (not that the quality of rulers is at all caused by...um...anything in particular, not even good genes).
 
Did some of the Barbarians fight in the nude?

I mean as in fighting battles in case that wasn't clear.
 
So, discussion points.

I do not really expect the particulars of Halsall's argument to be serious contention for discussion, although I hope they would be. And I'm far too disconnected from British academia to be able to say whether some of this really is evidentiary of a certain mode of thinking among certain of the historians who write about "immigrant violence" and the fall of the Roman Empire - although considering what I know of other British historians and of the upheaval in British academia these days, I guess it isn't out of the realm of possibility! (A depressing conclusion, to say the least.)

I understand that Halsall is reacting against what he sees as a distortion of history for political reasons, and in doing so one often pulls too much in the opposite direction. I think that was the case when he includes "stress caused by social inequalities" among the causes of the fragmentation of the Empire. The late empire could hardly be more unequal that the one which enslaved millions of people in the aftermath of wars of conquest.
However, hoe does have a very good point with fighting among ruling elites, and with different perceptions, among the people, of what the power structure should be.

What I am interested in is a reaction to the notion of the "idea of the barbarian" and to formulating a narrative of the collapse of Rome in the West without the so-called barbarians as the key players. Is such a narrative commensurate with the facts, as far as you know them? Can you - not you, plural nonspecific, but you, singular - explain the fall of Rome in Western Europe with the information at your disposal without resorting to discussing the so-called barbarians? Is the extent of your historical knowledge about the fall of Rome merely "Rome started sucking [because of Christianity?] and then [Germanic?] barbarians came, invaded the empire, and destroyed it"? Do you give a crap?

I don't know enough about the period to comment on. But assuming that many aspects of politics did not change that much since those time, so I can easily subscribe to the idea that power struggles among the elites, combined with a new idea about the "sources of (legitimate) power", brought about the end of the empire.

I know that you generally don't believe in learning from history, I don't know if that extends to seeing any kind of parallels between events in different eras. But imperial breakups seem to me to very often follow similar patters. All recent imperial breakups happened that way, or at least I've seen them so, and commented on that several times here on the forum. It starts with an ideological shift about what legitimate power is: the 18th century one from the absolute monarchy endorsed by God to constitutional monarchy with the new bourgeois class controlling political offices, for example, or the mid-late 20th century one towards representative democracy.
Looking at the 18th century one: it led, in short order, to the elites in London, Madrid and Lisbon to have to choose between either granting "representation" to the elites of their colonies in America (sharing power with them, and in time be displaced by them), or cutting them loose, breaking up those empires. After ineffectual attempts at rolling back history through military means, they gave in and cut the colonies loose. Anything but share their power!
More recently, the shift to representative democracy had similar consequences to the remaining colonial empires: France and Britain notably choose to quit direct political control over their heavily populated colonies in Africa and Asia shortly after WW2, rather than enfranchise voters there in any attempt at building some kind of federal states. Also notably, they retained those colonies which were so small that granting voting rights to their population shouldn't affect the present national politics (threaten the power of the ruling elites in the capitals) - the french still have their département d’outre-mer of tiny islands and not so-tiny Guiana strategically spread across the world. Portugal clung on to its colonies so long as it remained a dictatorship, but quickly got rid of them when it started making its transition to representative democracy - at least two territories (Cape Verde and East Timor) were forcibly ejected. France also tried to retain Algeria for some years, but when french politicians actually had to contemplate granting voting rights to all the Algerians as a way to pacify it they refused and in the end chose to instead cut it loose also.
Finally, there's the disbandment of the USSR: again a product of loss of popular legitimacy, or at least active support, by the existing power structure, followed by internal bickering among its elites. The consequence was the breakup even though a referendum had even confirmed that most of the population favored maintaining the union. That breakup was not inevitable, it happened as a consequence of Yeltsin's coup: he and his backers would rather have power immediately in a smaller territory than share it within a larger one.

Anyway, regarding Rome again, does this mean that we'll be able to blame Christianity again, for changing the ideas about what was legitimate power? :p
 
Interesting article. I was already a little familiar with the general misconceptions regarding the fall of Rome (largely owing to you) and I find myself agreeing with Halsall's points. I was put-off, however, by his linkage of "right-wing" politics with traditionalist interpretations of the causes of the fall of the Roman Empire. Then again, it may be a British phenomenon. Additionally, I read one of HEather's books, and I didn't feel that he solely attributed the fall of Rome to barbarians. Not a classical piece of historical literature to be sure, but he may have been a wee-bit demonized here.

It seems you believe the misfortunes of the fifth century are more or less attributable to bad luck. Is that an accurate representation?
 
Towards the end I thought I was reading something by a Marxist sociologist/literary critic :p

As for British academia, I think it's the case that the voices that lend themselves well to the right-wing ideology of the present government (and has been gaining traction even before that) are getting a lot of attention. Chances are you won't see Halsall in the media like you do Niall Fergusson or Richard Dawkins.
 
Interesting article, thanks for posting it!

From my reading about the later Roman Empire (mostly novels, I admit) I've formed the opinion that its' decline was a result of a number of internal weaknesses, not external assaults by barbarians. Obvious factors like continual civil wars, less obvious ones like the concentration of farms into latifundia, the ruinous taxation of what we today would call the middle class, etc. etc.

I haven't believed in the simplistic version with the 'barbarian hordes' since I was a schoolboy, though it makes for good reading - especially the British versions, see the whole Arthur mythology etc.

I agree with the author's conclusions on why so many people like to blame barbarians - much easier to blame external factors than face up to a civilizations internal inadequacies.
 
The political aspects of this article are, I think, overblown. It seems to me the biggest factor in the continuance of this theory is that it is easy and there isn't an easy alternative. The evidence to the contrary (and his theories) interest me. It's a shame that wasn't the focus.

That being said, the idea of the barbarian as the outside destructive force that upsets civilization is a recurring theme in history. The Dorian invasion of Greece is another theory often referenced, but feels kinda dubious to me. There were barbarians in Mesopotamia supposedly too (leading to that Dark Ages), which other scholars think were just the same players getting better at warfare (leading to more burning of cities).

I haven't given this much thought, but I do wonder if all these barbarian invasions are really just a misinterpretation of history. After all, the Roman example has always seemed to be the best known and most widely studied. Are there any we can point to with a fair degree of confidence?
 
The political aspects of this article are, I think, overblown. It seems to me the biggest factor in the continuance of this theory is that it is easy and there isn't an easy alternative.

Because you know for a fact that people do not use the notion of the Barbarian for reasons that are political (and not just in the political party sense of political)?
 
Because I know people who don't use it for reasons that are political. I can't speak specifically for those people, though. My only point is the theory maintains life for reasons unrelated to politics. The metaphor isn't a particularly used one this side of the Atlantic and the Barbarian invasion theory still holds a lot of strength. I don't think it's something the history channel cares about, but they're happy to make programs about the Barbarians destroying Rome (along with Vikings sacking Monasteries).
 
This debate is a bit confusing to me, because it seems to be really about where the goal posts were placed.

For example, Gaul was eventually conquered by Germanic tribes (most notably the Franks under Clovis, who expunged Syagrius), so some people would say the Roman Empire collapsed to barbarian invasions. But that only happened because of a shoring of imperial authority there in the first place, so other people would say it was aristocratic disputes and unrests which lead to Rome losing control of Gaul. They're both right in different ways.
 
Because I know people who don't use it for reasons that are political.

Ergo the political angle is overblown.

Louis XXIV said:
My only point is the theory maintains life for reasons unrelated to politics.

If you mean there are other reasons for its longevity, those are covered in the article. If you mean the real reasons for its longevity are unrelated to politics, something which you infer from the circumstantial evidence you have provided, then you haven't shown that you have a case.
 
This debate is a bit confusing to me, because it seems to be really about where the goal posts were placed.

For example, Gaul was eventually conquered by Germanic tribes (most notably the Franks under Clovis, who expunged Syagrius), so some people would say the Roman Empire collapsed to barbarian invasions. But that only happened because of a shoring of imperial authority there in the first place, so other people would say it was aristocratic disputes and unrests which lead to Rome losing control of Gaul. They're both right in different ways.
That's only true if you believe that the Merovingian state was built by "Germanic tribes". :p
 
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