B.'s book is the revised version of his Ph.D., defended in 2016. It addresses violence in Roman warfare, a theme that has been a growing interest of scholars since the 1990s, but, as B. rightly states, for which no extensive survey has been produced since then in English. In order to do so, B. mainly adopts a ‘strategical’ or ‘instrumental’ approach, leaning on a theoretical framework borrowed from political science and the sociology of violence, and which has more recently been adapted to history (J. Sémelin, Purifier et détruire [2005]) and even sparsely to ancient history (cf. the non-exhaustive list on p. 13). This background gives a solid basis for the volume, and the author of this review can only subscribe to this fecund approach. B. develops a deep exposition on the subject by focusing on a precise concept: that of mass violence. It provides a clear question to explore the features of Roman republican warfare: how and why the Romans employed mass violence to achieve their military – and political – goals. Among the multiple definitions of ‘mass violence’ that exist in social sciences, B. chooses a simple and broad one. For him, it consists of ‘a widespread physical violence against groups of noncombatants … or against communities’ (p. 7) that includes mass killings, mass enslavement and urban destructions. However, this definition is perhaps too broad: in the course of the book, and especially in the last three chapters, it has a tendency to equalise the various forms of violence. Moreover, one may wonder if the concept of ‘mass violence’ is not too anachronistic: did the Romans really have a notion of mass violence? However, not anachronistic at all is the cautious use of the word ‘noncombatants’: B. avoids the word ‘civilians’ and rightly suggests that, since the inhabitants of an ancient town often sustained an active defence of their communities (pp. 14 and 38), they cannot always be strictly considered as noncombatants.
After the first introductory chapter, the book is divided into six parts. The second chapter is a summary of the main features of Roman warfare aimed at students and non-specialists. The following two chapters develop a theory to explain the forms and reasons of mass violence in Roman warfare. They are undoubtedly the most interesting parts of the book. Based on both an impressive catalogue of all the episodes of republican mass violence (fourth to second centuries bce) and on detailed analysis of various events, the chapters provide a concrete and convincing demonstration. For B. mass violence required careful organisation and was definitely not improvised. This statement, which is at the core of the book, is adapted from the observations made by specialists working on other periods of history (e.g. C. Browning, Ordinary Men [1992]) and can also be used for other periods of Roman history (S. Hulot, ‘César genocidaire?’, REA 120 [2018]). The more groundbreaking conclusions of the chapters lie in identifying concrete patterns in the Roman way of fighting or of sacking cities. The discussions on prisoners, arson, urban destructions and the organisation of mass killing are particularly pertinent. So are the use of methods from other disciplines and the parallels with other periods. However, we can wonder if the impression of a customary habit is not occasionally too overplayed for the sake of the argument (p. 52), as B. admits (pp. 56 and 58). The Roman army more probably adapted its methods to each situation, and no systematic behaviour can strictly be inferred from the scarcity of ancient evidence (p. 49).
Chapter 4 turns to the logic of mass violence and opens with a vivid and insightful focus on Cicero's thought. It identifies five main motives for mass violence: military pragmatism, punishment, deterrence, greed and glory. Most importantly, it tackles the restraint in the use of violence, drawing a more balanced view of Roman attitudes at war. Roman magistrates could have thought it more effective to arouse surrender by mild treatment and could have respected military norms that existed in the Roman world too.
From Chapter 5 onwards the book takes a more narrative turn. It deals with three distinct moments of Roman wars and aims at giving ‘context and depth to the decisions of Roman generals’ (p. 86) by focusing on the broad strategy (p. 202). B. argues that mass violence was mainly used to punish betrayal during the Second Punic War, then served politics and pragmatic aims during the Third Macedonian War and carried away the generals’ frustration during the Lusitanian War. The passages on the foes’ opinions towards Roman behaviour are especially captivating and probably come from B.'s previous works. If the reactions in Italian or Greek communities slightly differ, these demonstrations give a certain coherence between the chapters. That is why we may wonder if the distinction between three different moments in the Roman habits of violence is totally relevant. Besides, B. admits that violence is multi-causal, and the details of his discussion precisely reveal this complexity, common for the three periods.
For these last three chapters we frequently lose the major subject of the book since to a large part they consist of the description of military events. The well-written summarising sections nevertheless perfectly convey B.'s core arguments. As for the method, if the use of archaeological evidence is mostly stimulating and cautious (pp. 12, 110, 164, 180), the information is occasionally overinterpreted. This is particularly the case for Cerro de la Cruz, which, despite some cautious sentences, is perhaps too suggestively presented as a Roman site of battle (pp. 192–4). Until now no convincing evidence has been found to assert that the assailants were undoubtedly Romans. As the Spanish spade was very similar in use and impact to the gladius, we cannot take for granted that the victims were attacked by the Roman army. Finally, even if B. insists on saying that ‘instrumental’ violence does not mean ‘rational violence’ (p. 203), emotions are too often underplayed. Generals resort invariably to ‘decision-making calculus’ (p. 78) or feel emotions that are maybe too caricatured, like the – implied – ‘frustration’ stemming from the Lusitanian War. Even if B. occasionally investigates them, this reviewer would have liked more emphasis on the emotions of the troops: the taste of vengeance or even the ‘tunnel de violence’ presented by N. Barrandon, Les massacres de la République romaine (2018), could explain many situations.
The conclusion condenses B.'s main ideas very efficiently. In a perspective close to that of A. Eckstein in Mediterranean Anarchy (2006), it places the Roman way of warfare within ancient Mediterranean contexts and reduces the exceptionality of Rome's violence. The catalogues in the appendices are precisely detailed, and the index is useful. The bibliography (truly international) demonstrates the careful and well-grounded work of the author. As a whole, the book is pleasant to read and, despite the few remarks made from a reviewer perhaps a little too familiar with the subject, very inspiring.
