This book is intended to distinguish the historical Marcus Aurelius and his rule from his idealized reputation as a philosophical emperor. In the preface, the editor presents his own assessment of Marcus Aurelius’ reign, anticipating most of the results found in this volume (especially ix–xii). The observation that Marcus Aurelius’ inclination towards philosophy was primarily reflected in the private and court environment, but was only of subordinate importance in his actual governmental duties, will surprise few readers (xii).
Stefan Priwitzer (1–22) discusses the question of how the double principate came about at all. Although it was predictable that military conflicts would arise after the death of Antoninus Pius, the severity of this military crisis was not predictable and therefore should not be interpreted as a reason for the dual principate (4–6). He correctly identifies the causes to be domestic and political: pietas towards Hadrian and Aelius Caesar, respect towards Lucius, and above all the pressure of the Ceionii faction, which certainly felt cheated by the regulation of Antoninus Pius (18–20). This also explains why there was no double principate between 169 and 177. The appointment of Commodus as Augustus was a reaction to Avidius Cassius’ uprising, and proves once more that Marcus Aurelius was a pragmatic ruler (16–18).
Christoph Michels (23–48) asks why there were usurpations at all under the watch of the ‘good’ emperors Antoninus Pius and Marcus Aurelius. Concerning the usurpation of Avidius Cassius, he very carefully weighs the arguments for and against a possible misunderstanding concerning the alleged death of Marcus Aurelius (40–3). In my opinion, the crucial point for assessing Avidius’ uprising is the lack of coinage: serious usurpers brought coins displaying their portrait into circulation as quickly as possible. Michels evaluates the usurpation attempts mentioned under Antoninus Pius as literary duplicates (Titianus) and historiographical exaggerations of minor unrest (Priscianus) (31), emphasising the emperor's skills in crisis management. That said, the usurpation attempts are also mentioned in the fasti Ostienses and find expression — in my opinion — in the coinage (S. Börner, Marc Aurel im Spiegel seiner Münzen und Medaillons (2012), 80–6). They can therefore hardly have been so insignificant.
Michael A. Speidel (49–74) rightly stresses that Marcus Aurelius’ military abilities have often been neglected in favour of his self-reflections and his ‘role’ as philosophical emperor (although this has been corrected in recent scholarship, e.g. R. Hund, Studien zur Aussenpolitik der Kaiser Antoninus Pius und Marc Aurel (2017)). Through detailed investigation of his coinage, Speidel argues that in his ‘daily work’ as emperor, Marcus Aurelius very clearly subordinated his undisputed personal affinity for philosophy to the needs and requirements of the state (70–4). His military abilities were also promoted at an early age: the Iuventas coinages of the years 140–144 (57) are clearly connected with his appointment as princeps iuventutis (cf. Börner 2012, 22–3).
Michael Sommer (75–92) approaches the key question of how Lucius Verus — in contrast to Crassus, Antonius, Nero or Trajan — achieved comparative success against the Parthians. His inclusion of coinage from Edessa for his analysis of the events in the 160s is particularly exciting, as it helps shed light on the local power relations with regard to Rome (83–4). Christoph Schäfer (93–108) again deals with the role of the emperor as military commander in contrast to his reputation as philosophical emperor. Analysing the scarce source material, he too comes to the unsurprising conclusion that Marcus fulfilled his duty; the article offers little else new. Sven Th. Schipporeit (109–34) deals with the significance of triumphs, and points out the importance of dynasty preservation in connection with triumphs over the Parthians and Teutons. In this way the triumph was reformulated as a legitimation ritual.
The next two contributions both come from Peter Weiß (135–62). The first essay makes the exciting observation that the serial production of military diplomas in bronze collapsed between 168 and 177. During this time much of the linguistic and technical practice was apparently lost, but the physical form of the diplomas was subsequently designed in a more uniform fashion. The second article illustrates these changes and their effects through a detailed analysis of a Commodan diploma from the lower Danube.
Burkhard Meißner (163–88) makes an abstract and elaborate argument that the Second Sophistic saw historiography as part of political communication (187–8). Historiography under the Antonines was both a propaganda tool and an orientation tool; but this is certainly true also for other periods. Claudia Horst (189–210) also deals with the role of the Second Sophistic under Marcus Aurelius, showing that the emperor integrated the educated upper class into power structures where possible, and interprets this as an attempt to tie politics and philosophy together (202). Helmut Halfmann (211–22) takes one of these important philosophical protagonists, Herodes Atticus, as an example, tracing his life, self-image and relationship to the imperial family.
Kai Ruffing (223–48) addresses financial policy under Marcus Aurelius. He assigns him no serious financial crisis — despite an additional financial burden from various wars — and sees continuity with the policy of his predecessors (241). He rightly sees the increased need for money to finance wars as the cause of the slightly decreasing silver content in the denarius (228).
Torsten Mattern (249–84) argues that Marcus used building policy as a means of communication with the public less than other emperors (253). Furthermore, he tries to link his attested construction projects to imperial virtues (not always convincing). In his presentation of numismatic sources, the reference is only occasionally indicated in the caption (fig. 3), and legends are missing (fig. 1) or incomplete (fig. 4).
Hilmar Klinkott (285–306) considers the ‘Antonine plague’ first and foremost as a literary device to upgrade the image of the good emperor Marcus Aurelius. This is certainly true for the later literary sources, but cannot account for the epigraphic and papyrological evidence. In addition, it is not quite clear why Klinkott cites the MEDICVS title in connection with the Antoninian plague (296): Marcus Aurelius held this title only in 166 after the partial conquest of Media. Clemens Koehn (307–24) examines tendencies in Marcus Aurelius’ legislation and concludes that the emperor strengthened the rights of children, especially orphans, but otherwise followed the trend of the Antonine era concerning inheritance law (323).
The following three articles deal with Marcus’ religious policy. Wolfgang Spickermann (325–42) outlines the increasingly central role of ‘foreign’ cults, arguing adeptly on the basis of numismatic sources (especially 325–9). Following the tradition of his direct predecessor, Marcus Aurelius strengthened the imperial cult and the domus divinae (cf. also C. Rowan in Proceedings of the XIV International Numismatic Congress (2012), 991–8). On the other hand, his stoic monotheistic inclinations (332) did not come into conflict with state policy or the polytheistic principle.
Joachim Molthagen (343–62) and Henrike M. Zilling (363–80) study the relationship between Marcus Aurelius and the Christians. Molthagen shows that a wave of persecution (e.g. the martyrdom of Polycarp) can in fact be dated under Antoninus Pius (349). In addition, he shows that the persecution of the 160s was considerably smaller in size than previously assumed and did not affect the legal status of Christianity (350–1). Examining Marcus’ image in Christian historiography, Zilling concludes that Justin, Melito and Athenagoras ahistorically stylised the emperor as a protector christianorum (380).
Finally, Volker Grieb (381–400) deals with the significance of Marcus’ beard. He convincingly disproves the assumption that the emperor's emerging beardedness should be explained by his alignment with intellectual circles in the Greek East, and sees the cause rather in military fashion (400). He rightly argues that Marcus’ beard-fashion — especially in his youthful portrait — was strongly oriented towards Aelius Verus and was thus dynastically legitimised (383–6).
In conclusion, the essays are of varying quality and topicality; however, several contributions are well worth reading and bring new insights to our understanding of Marcus Aurelius and his time.
