Destroy Carthage (16 page)

The fate of Carthage was finally sealed in 149
b.c.
By then
her forces, restricted by treaty after Zama, had been shattered
by Masinissa of Numidia. Everything favoured a Roman inter­vention in Africa. Those, such as Scipio Nasica, who opposed
the policy had lost ground. An immense Italian army was
available: 80,000 infantry and 4,000 cavalry. Young men who
had painstakingly dodged service in Spain now flocked to join
an expedition which promised the spoils of the richest city
in the world for slight effort. With them assembled shady
dealers and camp followers of every kind.

The destination of the army was not revealed, but few, least
of all the Carthaginians, had any doubt. In a hopeless position
from which to negotiate, the Punic government prepared to
buy peace at almost any price. Popular leaders held responsible
for the Numidian war were condemned, among them the de­feated general Hasdrubal, and the pro-Roman faction gained
prominence.

But attempts at
rapprochement
were frustrated by the
Romans. Carthaginian diplomats, seeking the terms on which
the affray with Masinissa might be pardoned, were kept on
tenterhooks with obscure allusions and veiled threats. The
ancient historians put it simply. Asked repeatedly how Carth­age might make amends, Rome replied that she wanted only
'satisfaction.' Asked what 'satisfaction' meant, the Romans
rejoined that the Carthaginians knew that best themselves.

The technique, diplomatic war waged by confusion, pro­duced a bonus for its exponents. While Carthage grew in­creasingly desperate to avert invasion, her western neighbour,
Utica, lost nerve altogether and placed herself at Rome's dis­posal.

Assured a safe port of disembarcation in Africa, the Roman
expeditionary force advanced to Sicily, increasing pressure on
the Punic government. At this point, its members abandoned
hope of buying peace through an indemnity or territorial
bargain and, like Utica, offered a formal submission
(deditio
in fidem).
Technically, the
deditio
gave Rome possession of
all lands, cities and towns of the Carthaginians, who then held
their freedom and way of life by concession rather than
sovereign right.

On this legality, Rome justified the course upon which she
was already set. The stock-in-trade of governments does not
change. Among several unpleasant aspects of politics familiar
to the modern world, the ancients knew all about cold war,
class war, trade war, terrorism, martial coups, purges, assassin­ations, the so-called liberation of peoples and a dozen forms of
legal and diplomatic bad faith. But it would be hard to find a
more striking example of cynical deception by the leaders of
a great state than that now employed by Rome to achieve her
ends.

Five Carthaginian ambassadors arranged the
deditio,
a
gesture their Italian hosts at last applauded as a wise move.
Carthage, the Romans pledged, would be assured in return
'her territory, her sacred rites, her tombs, her liberty and her
possessions.' The precise words are from Diodorus Siculus. The
Carthaginians, for their part, were to provide 300 hostages
from senatorial families, and await further instructions from
the consuls in charge of the expeditionary army. This would
be moved from Sicily and stationed at Utica. In the guise of protector, therefore - but with a legal claim
to more deadly powers - Rome had secured the crossing and
landing of her armada from all opposition. It was left to the
consuls to complete a ^ame of ruthless calculation. They were
two: M. Manilius and L. Marcus Censorinus. At Utica they
staged a massive display of military power for envoys from
Carthage, but their tactics were still diplomatic. With Rome's
protection, they claimed, the Carthaginians had no need of
their own arms and ought to surrender them.

To the remonstrances of the envoys, Censorinus (the more
eloquent of the consuls, so Appian pictured him) replied that
if the Carthaginians sincerely desired peace they would com­ply. 'Come now, hand over your weapons, public and private,
and your war machines.'

Whatever its suspicions, the Punic government had yielded
too much to change its acquiescent policy at this stage. Ancient
report quantified the material surrendered as 200,000 sets of
arms and 2,000 catapults, together with countless spears and
javelins. The figures, disproportionate to Carthaginian troop
strengths at any time, let alone since Zama, may at least be
taken as a sign that the Roman invigilators were thorough.

Censorinus summoned the Punic representatives to Utica
once more, this time for the
denoument.
Perhaps fearful of
the outcome, Carthage sent a delegation of unusual size, in­cluding senators, priests and leading businessmen. Its aim,
according to Appian, was to impress the consuls by its import­ance, but the Romans were unmoved. Civic pomp was no
substitute for weaponry; disarmed, Carthage lacked convincing
argument. Her envoys listened in stunned silence as Censorinus
disclosed his orders to destroy the metropolis.

Accept with courage the final command of Rome. Sur­render Carthage to us and withdraw into your territory,
remaining at least ten miles from the coast. We intend to
raze your city to the ground.
Casuistically, it could be claimed that such instructions were
not inconsistent with Rome's earlier assurances, which ap­parently failed to specify the fate of the city as distinct from
that of its occupants. Explaining the order for inland settle­ment, Censorinus pointed to the maritime element in Punic
history. 'When you look at the sea you recall great fleets,
their spoils, your docklands and arsenals.' The Carthaginians,
he concluded, must forget their imperial past and consider a
new, pastoral existence.

It was, as everyone understood, a bleak prospect. Large
urban communities cannot be transposed to open country and
survive intact. Denied ships, wharves, workshops and pro­tective battlements, the mass of Carthaginians would either
starve to death or become the defenceless prey of tribal war­riors. As much was indicated by the outburst of protest with
which the embassy responded when the full extent of Roman
perfidy was evident.

Bitterly, its members reminded the consuls of Carthaginian
compliance with the treaty agreed after Zama, of the punctili­ous payment of the indemnity and of the city's wholly accommodating approach to Rome since the war with Numidia.
Solemnly, one speaker, Banno, urged the Romans to consider
the reputation of their own state and to reflect on the ultimate
judgement of history.

His appeal was discounted. All protests unavailing, the
Carthaginian representatives weighed their own position. Some,
deeply implicated in the policies which had led to the present
pass, sought refuge with the consuls, or fled for foreign sanc­tuaries, fearful of the wrath of their compatriots.

The rest returned grimly to Carthage, passing tight-lipped
through a city already inflamed by rumour. Accounts of what
followed vividly illustrate the trauma of a great commercial
state confronted with the vision of imminent extinction. In
the senate, members listened horrified to the news of the re­turned ambassadors, interrupting with cries of profound dis­may. These, confirming the worst fears of the crowds outside,
provoked a political reaction of the most violent character.

At a stroke, the government was swept aside in an eruption
of despairing anger described by Appian as orgiastic. Pro-Roman senators and others of the appeasement faction were
torn to pieces or stoned to death. Italians found in the city
were hounded and massacred. Gods were abused. Mothers
whose children had been given as hostages besieged the auth­orities, dementedly venting grief and recriminations.

Born of impassioned hatred for the faithless enemy, a new
government of popular resistance arose from the bloodbath.
Hastening to the city armouries, its supporters found nothing
but empty stands. Equally desolate were the great horse-shoe
stalls in the triple walls, once occupied by squadrons of
elephants. At the naval docks, long-standing reserves of timber
testified to the absence of naval construction in accordance
with the treaty of 201.

If the Romans were to be opposed, it seemed likely that
few Carthaginians could depend on more than their bare hands.

But if any paused in their fury to contemplate the outcome,
a defence, however desperate, must have appealed to the pas­sionate Punic temperament as a better end than abject de­privation in exile. Ten miles away, the bristling cohorts of
Censorinus and Manilius eagerly awaited their destructive
task, and the loot involved. Contemptuously, Carthage
slammed her gates and declared herself at war with Rome.

The
springs of Catoist bitterness toward Carthage, and the ex­ceptional ruthlessness employed in disarming her, could be
traced to the Sicily vacated by Pyrrhus. In legend, the Greek
looked back at the island as his fleet withdrew and sighed
prophetically: 'What a beautiful battlefield we leave to Rome
and Carthage!'

Until then, the history of Romano-Punic relations had been
pacific, even co-operative. In the beginning, Carthage, the
richer and greater power, had regarded the Romans, like the
Etruscans (whose kings indeed governed Rome in the 6th
century), as a northern check to Greek ambitions in the west.

When Rome, shaking off Etruscan dominance, established
her republic in 509, a treaty with Carthage regulated their
respective spheres. By this agreement the Romans would not
sail west of Carthage, and undertook to trade elsewhere in
Africa and in Sardinia only under the supervision of the Punic
authorities. The Carthaginians pledged in return to respect
Roman interests in the Latin towns and not to pursue colonial
ambitions in Latium.

The ability of Carthage to impose sweeping trade restrictions
was even more emphatic in a further treaty, signed in 348,
now excluding Roman merchants from the whole of North
Africa, as well as from Sardinia and southern Spain. Soon
afterwards, Rome, incorporating most of Campania in her con­federacy, was plunged into bitter conflict with the neighbour­ing Samnites. While the Latin power was preoccupied securing
and expanding her Italian territories, Carthage continued to
advance her mercantile dominance. In 306, a third agreement
consolidated her trade monopolies.