022 Prelude to the Second Punic War

022 - Prelude to the Second Punic War

Hello, and welcome to the History of Rome, episode 22, Prelude to the Second Punic War. Rome and Carthage had spent the years after the First Punic War dealing with their own problems and paying little official attention to one another, but the focus of the two great powers would soon turn to each other once again and lead to a confrontation, this time over Spain. This confrontation would be the spark for what is arguably the most important period in Roman history, the Second Punic War.

Entering the war, Rome was a regional power on the rise, but still recognizably the same political entity that had emerged from the devastation of the Gallic Sack 170 years before. However, at the end of the war with Hannibal, a 20-year trial of immense physical and psychological endurance, Rome transformed into the invincible juggernaut that would conquer the Mediterranean. Hannibal would prove to be Rome's most impressive enemy, and after surviving the bold Carthaginian invasion of Italy, the Romans simply turned and steamrolled the rest of the known world.

The importance of the Second Punic War is also measured by the fact that after Scipio's final victory at Zama in 202 BC, Roman elites almost immediately began to lament the loss of Roman virtue and nobility. The total domination Rome had achieved after defeating Carthage allowed steadfast frugality to be usurped by excessive debauchery. Never again would the literati look at their contemporaries with anything but contempt, and the idea that Rome had fallen from grace was, from that point on, simply taken for granted. It speaks volumes then of the impact the Second Punic War had on the Romans that it would essentially mark the close of an alleged golden age where all men were clones of Cincinnatus, and usher in a new, modern era where all men were corrupt, hedonistic, and unworthy of their great ancestors. But for now, Rome was still a paradigm of virtue.

While the Romans were focused elsewhere, dealing with the Gallic invasion and Illyrian piracy, the Carthaginians began to quietly build an empire in Spain. Well, not the Carthaginians as a whole, necessarily. Just Hamilcar Baracca. After being driven from Sicily, Hamilcar returned to Carthage and briefly stewed in his juices before hatching a plan to revenge himself upon the Romans. He knew that a direct assault on Rome would be a suicidal fool's errand, so he looked instead to Spain for an opportunity to build up the wealth and power necessary to re-engage the hated Romans. He pitched the Carthaginian Senate on the idea of a Spanish invasion, couching the benefits of such an adventure in economic terms, the opportunity for traders to make up for the loss of Sicily, and the possibility of drawing from Spanish resources to pay the war indemnity owed to the Romans. The Senate was quick to approve Hamilcar's plan, as much to get the disgruntled soldier out of Carthage as much as anything else. It had been the Carthaginian Senate, after all, who had been the ones who had left Hannibal twisting in the wind for so many years in Sicily, and they were understandably anxious to get rid of the charismatic general.

So in 337 BC, without a navy to speak of, Hamilcar marched his army west across North Africa and crossed the Straits of Gibraltar into Spain. The Iberian Peninsula was at that time populated with tribes whose prowess on the battlefield was matched only by their lack of political sophistication. There were three broad tribal groups, the Iberians, the Celts, and the Celtiberians, who were a co-mingled mix of the two races. But to say that Spain was decentralized would be an understatement. Not only were the tribes constantly at each other's throats, but within tribes, individual settlements formed intense rivalries with their neighbors. When Hamilcar embarked on his conquest, his task was made immeasurably easier by the total lack of cooperation amongst the natives and the willingness of locals to join the Carthaginians if it meant getting the better of their neighbors.

Hamilcar set up a base just over the Strait from Africa in southern Spain and began to steadily grow Carthaginian influence over the peninsula. Hamilcar, though, was not interested in simply conquering Spain for the greater glory of Carthage. He was intent on setting up an autonomous empire for himself. Sure, his dispatch's home did not reflect this ambition, but he clearly took steps to make the Baraka family the preeminent rulers of the peninsula, not the Carthaginian government per se. Hamilcar began to mint coins that associated himself and his son Hannibal with the local patron god of the Iberian Peninsula and asked the army to swear allegiance to his family rather than the Carthaginian empire. Hamilcar was laying the groundwork for a quasi-divine dynasty in Spain that he hoped to pass on to his sons.

The Carthaginian senate, for their part, left Hamilcar to his own devices. They were happy to be rid of the ambitious general, and as long as the cash kept rolling in they didn't care who a bunch of backwards tribesmen were worshipping. Spain was an incredibly resource-rich territory and produced massive quantities of high-grade silver. There is no doubt that the silver mines were the prime attraction for both Hamilcar and later the Romans. It is an interesting historical parallel to note the similarity between the Carthaginian and Roman exploitation of Spain and Spain's own exploitation of the New World 1700 years later. Both had the effect of flooding the markets of the world with vast amounts of new wealth, and one wonders at the effect of having their own resources violently stripped years before had on the Spanish decision to seize South American gold mines with such vicious abandon. Maybe there is no connection at all, but as I said, it is at least an interesting coincidence that Spain, of all places, was the New World of the Old World.

Hamilcar marched his armies out north and east, taking possession of whatever territory he entered, and soon commanded a large portion of southwest Spain. In general, Hamilcar treated the native armies who resisted with a combination of ruthlessness and leniency. The leadership would be executed, but the troops themselves would be sent home. Hamilcar was not looking to exterminate the Spanish, but to rule them. His long-term plans centered around drawing from the vast pool of Spanish infantry, if they could be called that, to fill his army when he finally launched himself once again at the Romans. There was no point in engendering the hatred of men he hoped to someday lead, so soldiers were sent back to their families. Rival centers of power, however, could not be tolerated, and the chieftains were executed without a second thought.

In 231 BC, Rome began to take notice of what Hamilcar was up to, and sent envoys to investigate. The Romans were caught up fighting the Gauls and the Illyrians, and had no real desire to invest themselves in Spain as well, so they were satisfied by the slick and plausible message Hamilcar sent back to Rome. I am merely trying to pay back our debt to you as quickly as possible. Surely there is nothing wrong with that. Slick. Very slick. The Romans thus hoodwinked, Hamilcar went back to gathering the strength he needed to destroy them.

The great Carthaginian general, however, would not get the chance to set Rome ablaze. During the winter of 228 BC, after being surprised and driven off by a tribal army, Hamilcar drowned while crossing a treacherous river. He was succeeded by his son-in-law Hasdrubal, who immediately raised a force of 50,000, and exterminated the tribe, who he blamed for Hamilcar's death. After this initial show of force, Hasdrubal settled back into the role more of governor than conqueror. He did not try and build on the territory Hamilcar had won, rather he consolidated Carthaginian holdings and attempted to sink the new imperial dynasty into the Spanish psyche. He made the tribal chiefs acclaim him their supreme ruler, and murdered any who were even suspected of opposing him. He founded a capital on the southern coast of the peninsula called New Carthage, a virtually impregnable fortress from which he ruled. Clearly the Carthaginians were here to stay.

In 226 BC, the Romans began to worry again about the Carthaginian presence in Spain. They had allies on the peninsula themselves, and worried about North African encroachment. A treaty was concluded with Hasdrubal to the effect that the Carthaginians would not cross the river Ebro, which lies midway up the Mediterranean coast of Spain. This demarcation is important because it left Saguntum, a city that was on friendly terms with Rome, 100 miles behind enemy lines. But the expediency of preserving the peace with Carthage took precedence, and the Romans agreed to stay on their side of the Ebro.

Five years later, Hasdrubal's heavy-handed rule caught up with him, and he was assassinated by a disgruntled tribesman, revenge for the murder of a chieftain. Upon Hasdrubal's death, the army immediately called for the ascension of Hannibal, Hamilcar's eldest son. Only 25 at the time, Hannibal was elevated to a position of supreme authority, and did not waste any time plotting how to make good on the oath he had sworn years before to make himself an enemy of Rome for eternity.

Hannibal was wildly popular amongst his troops. Not only had he been fully integrated into the semi-divine cult his father had built, but Hannibal had also grown up in the army camps, and was considered by the soldiers to be one of them. It was the perfect combination to assure complete loyalty. Not only did they respect him as a soldier and a man, but they worshipped him as a god. This loyalty would be tested over and over again, and it is one of the great testaments to Hannibal's leadership that in all the years he kept his men in Italy fighting an increasingly hopeless war of attrition, that there is not a single mention of a mutiny or an assassination attempt. Not even Alexander can say that.

The son of Hamilcar picked up where his father left off, and began to claim new territory for Carthage, securing the northwest frontier with a surprising efficiency that foreshadowed things to come. Hannibal was no passive governor like his brother-in-law. He was a conqueror of the first order. The city of Saguntum became increasingly worried by the young Carthaginian leader. They had been left alone by Hasdrubal, but Hannibal seemed to be cut from an entirely different cloth. They sent pleas for aid over and over again to Rome, but Rome and I's were turned east to Illyria and could not be bothered. Finally, Saguntum kicked up enough of a fuss that the Romans sent a mission to Spain to get a look at the new Carthaginian leader themselves and take stock of the situation.

The Roman envoys did not like what they saw one bit, and came away convinced that war with the Carthaginians was imminent, though they believed any campaign would be limited to Spain. This allowed for a certain Roman laxness when it came to preparations. They would raise some legions and send them to man the Ebro. Some skirmishes would ensue, but Hannibal would not be so silly as to cross the river. He was just testing the limits of Roman tolerance. But then Hannibal laid siege to Saguntum, and the Roman hand was forced even further.

Conflicts within the Roman Senate created a mixed response that all but ensured a full-scale war. Despite the treaty they had signed restricting the legions to the far side of the Ebro, Rome appreciated its alliance with Saguntum and did not want to see it fall into the hands of the Carthaginians. So rather than following the treaty to its logical conclusion and sacrificing Saguntum for the greater peace, the Romans sent envoys to Carthage demanding an end to the siege. The Carthaginians replied that they were well within their rights to act in whatever way they wished in their own territory, and the Romans ought to butt out. There were factions in the Carthaginian Senate who did not appreciate the position Hannibal was putting them in, but a treaty was a treaty, and the Romans had no legal claim to Saguntum, so what were they doing making demands and issuing threats? The Romans were sent away, and the western Mediterranean stood on the brink of war once again.

All that was left was the official declarations. Saguntum fell after an eight-month siege, and Hannibal sacked the city. The Romans responded by raising a three-pronged force to deal with the now palpable Carthaginian threat. The main force would be sent to Africa to inflict as much damage there as possible. Another would be sent to Spain to deal with Hannibal and teach the young upstart a lesson. A third was placed in the Po Valley to deal with any possible invasion the opportunistic Gauls might attempt. Of the three, the army in the Po Valley was considered merely a rearguard defensive force who would possibly but not likely see action. The war, in Roman eyes, was clearly going to be fought in Spain, just as the First Punic War had been fought in Sicily.

Hannibal, however, had other plans. The army in the Po Valley would soon find themselves not skirmishing with Gallic tribes, but rather engaging head-on a Carthaginian invasion force. Next week, we will begin what is sure to be at least a month of episodes dedicated to the Second Punic War. As I said, it is one of the most important and taxing periods in Roman history, and proved to be the closest the Romans would come to destruction until the crisis of the 3rd century AD, 500 years later. So next time, we will begin the long and arduous path to the Battle of Zama by following Hannibal's long and arduous path through the Alps to immortality.