For many, the Bronze Age Aegean conjures up images of war and conflict, such as the Mycenaean conquest of Minoan Crete, city walls built by the mythical Cyclopes, palaces that went up in flames and the ever-fascinating siege of Troy as told by Homer. Indeed, research on the Aegean Bronze Age was rooted in visions of violence from its early days. This Brill’s companion is written for scholars and teachers with knowledge of the ancient Mediterranean, perhaps having read the Homeric epics, who wish to know more about the evidence for Bronze Age warfare. It aims for the intermediate level yet is also of use to specialists, for it details the latest scholarly understandings.
The volume is organised in 13 chapters divided into five parts. In Part 1, editors Lynne Kvapil and Kim Shelton introduce the volume’s goals, sketch the main developments in warfare of the period and outline the contributions. Part 2 ‘Material and textual evidence’ assembles the main types of evidence, which are set in context in Part 3 ‘Warfare in practice and perception’ to discuss how war was conducted and to assess its role in society. Part 4 ‘Historical questions’ reviews three long-standing debates and Part 5 contains an epilogue by the editors.
Part 2 starts with Tomáš Alušík’s convenient overview of fortifications and defensive architecture, where the main characteristics are illustrated with the best-known and best-preserved examples. Alušík highlights the technology transfer between regions, such as the spread of Anatolian-style casemates (compartmentalised double-wall enclosure walls) during the Early and Late Bronze Ages and the influence of both mainland and Cycladic experimentation with building large-stone walls in the development of Cyclopean masonry. Such cross-fertilisations are intriguing but could have been explored more extensively and systematically.
Ioannis Georganas and Lynne Kvapil compile the fundamental information on offensive and defensive equipment, as well as chariots, in an extended and updated version of an earlier paper by the first author (Georganas Reference Georganas and Cline2010). Its usefulness is beyond dispute, but it contains a few slips. The authors state that the two-horse war chariot on the Greek mainland came from the Near East, yet recent studies suggest that the introduction of chariots was a much more complex process of eclectic appropriation and the fusion of new technology (Maran & Van de Moortel Reference Maran and Van de Moortel2014; Maran Reference Maran, Maran, Băjenaru, Ailincăi, Popescu and Hansen2020: 516). Another questionable item is the interpretation of a spear in the fragments of the ‘Tarzan Fresco’, which is also noted in Margaretha Kramer-Hajos’ chapter (p.183, note 78).
Cynthia Shelmerdine considers all relevant evidence for warfare from the Linear B tablets. Although these economic and administrative records contain limited relevant clues on warfare, we catch some compelling glimpses, for example: the coastline of the Pylian state was guarded by some 800 men and the palace kept track of men available for naval duty. Overall, palaces routinely organised the production of military equipment and monitored lower-ranking military personnel. Evocative names such as ‘warrior’ and ‘He who plunders with force’ also suggest that military activities were a source of honour and fame.
One of the most important sources of warfare is iconography, which became abundant from the Middle Bronze Age onwards. Margaretha Kramer-Hajos argues that the identity of the warrior during the Neopalatial and Shaft Grave periods overlaps with that of the hunter, the athlete and the cult participant. Later, the Mycenaean palaces suppressed this warrior identity by monopolising the display of martial imagery. Kramer-Hajos strikes a pleasant balance between describing the imagery and illustrating how it reflects larger developments.
Part 3 starts with two syntheses. Barry Molloy first tackles warfare in the Early Bronze Age to the first part of the Late Bronze Age (c. 3100–1400 BC) and is then joined by Jesse Obert to discuss warfare in Late Helladic IIIA-C (c. 1400–1050 BC). While the use of violence was hardly sophisticated in the Early Bronze Age (c. 3100–2100 BC), complex martial traditions emerged on Crete during the Middle Bronze Age (c. 2100–1700 BC). This Minoan martial package was adopted almost completely by the early Mycenaeans. While the knowledge of how to fight became widespread on the mainland, it remains difficult to understand the social organisation behind legitimate violence and warfare. The reader is therefore warned against too easily accepting the idea of a mainland warrior elite or warrior princes. Warfare later became a fundamental part of Late Bronze Age Mycenaean palace operations, both ideologically and economically. After the collapse of palatial society, warriorhood became instead an expression of both personal and community identity. In effect, these chapters challenge Aegean scholars to examine conflict as a social mechanism, as is done more commonly in European prehistoric archaeology.
The ‘warrior ethos’ already touched upon in previous chapters takes centre stage in the chapter of Angelos Papadopoulos. The author maintains, rightly, that the importance of warrior identity (or presenting oneself as a warrior) in ideology and for the legitimisation of authority varied across time and space. Yet the ‘martial ethos’ itself remains loosely defined, clouded by the loose and overlapping use of related but not entirely identical terms, such as martial status and martial ideology. To deepen the understanding of a ‘martial ethos’, this approach would benefit from a wider engagement with non-Aegean scholarship, such as that on the European or Nordic Bronze Age warrior ideology.
Stephen O’Brien applies anthropological theory to critique the common evolutionary assumption that the complexity of warfare necessarily evolves in tandem with social complexity. This was seemingly not the case after the collapse of the Late Bronze Age Aegean palatial societies, as warfare remained similar in terms of equipment and tactics, and thus retained a comparable level of complexity. The references to relevant anthropological theory are extensive.
The three chapters of Part 4 consider long-standing questions and stand out with their thorough, balanced and realistic review of the evidence. After so many decades of research, what can we now say about the Minoan Thalassocracy, the relationship between Mycenaean Greece and western Anatolia and the real events that could have inspired the Trojan War epics? Anyone interested in these topics should consult these authoritative, well-structured chapters first.
Natalie Abell uses the concept of ‘Minoanisation’ to meticulously investigate Cretan political control in the wider Aegean, known from later myth as the Minoan Thalassocracy. The evidence is not unassailable and the phenomenon was complex. Leaders of the ‘economic powerhouse’ Knossos seem to have been pivotal in connecting various parts of the Aegean, which may have caused the emergence of unequal power dynamics. The transfer of knowledge was crucial in the Minoanisation process, as suggested by the mobility of craftspeople such as textile workers and pottery producers. At the same time, hints of conflict show that a presumed peacefulness cannot be maintained as a hypothesis.
In lucid writing, Trevor Bryce examines Hittite sources that refer to Ahhiyawa—probably the Mycenaean world—and potential conflicts that may have erupted with the Hittite kingdom. These fragmentary texts give a unique insight into the Ahhiyawans/Mycenaeans trying to expand their power and satisfy their economic interests along the West Anatolian coast. The texts do not, however, provide evidence for a historical Trojan War as narrated in the Homeric epics. If the Greek tradition has any basis in fact, Bryce concludes, it likely represents a conflation of skirmishes conducted over many decades or even centuries.
The final author, Shannon LaFayette Hogue, agrees: based on literary, archaeological and historical sources, she also argues that the Trojan War never happened. Instead, there may be some historical evidence of a Trojan War (although the character of the dispute about Wilusa is unclear) or no war at all. She concludes that the focus on the historicity of the epics limits our thinking—Bronze Age interaction in this frontier region is a more fruitful topic.
In the Epilogue, the editors suggest several appealing topics for further research, such as the construction and performance of masculinity through a gendered or queer lens. They rightly point out that the role of women in warfare remains understudied and they debate how violence may have disrupted their lives (see also Kramer-Hajos and Abell). Bioarchaeological research for physical trauma also has the potential to be enlightening (p.10, note 38). Furthermore, I believe that the role of violence in Aegean societies can be refined productively through a greater engagement with anthropological, theoretical and non-Aegean studies of violence and conflict.
In sum, the purchase of this companion is worth having a civilised brawl over with your local university librarian: the topics are wide-ranging, the main types of evidence are described clearly and accessibly, scholarly consensus is discussed transparently and the bibliographies are generally comprehensive. All in all, it is an excellent starting point for future studies and will surely reinvigorate the interest in violence and warfare in the Aegean and beyond.
