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Journal of Interdisciplinary History, xlii:2 (Autumn, 2011), 235–249.
LOCAL ELITES IN THE ROMAN WORLD
Daniëlle Slootjes
Local Elites and Power in the Roman World:
Modern Theories and Models
Roman Imperial Identities in the Early Christian Era. By Judith Perkins
(New York, Routledge, 2009) 220 pp. $115.00 cloth $39.95 paper
Daniëlle Slootjes is Assistant Professor of Ancient History, Radboud University. She is the au-
thor of The Governor and his Subjects in the Later Roman Empire (Boston, 2006); “Bishops and
Their Position of Power in the Late Third Century CE: The Cases of Gregory Thaumaturgus
and Paul of Samosata,” Journal of Late Antiquity, IV (2011), 100–115.
© 2011 by the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and The Journal of Interdisciplinary
History, Inc.
1 For more in-depth discussions about the structure of Roman society and its elites, see
Geza Alföldy, Römische Sozialgeschichte (Wiesbaden, 1984); Ségolène Demougin, L’ordre
équestre sous les Julio-Claudiens (Paris, 1988); Friedrich Vittinghof (ed.), Europäische Wirtschafts-
und Sozialgeschichte in der römischen Kaiserzeit (Stuttgart, 1990); David Potter, The Roman Empire
at Bay, A.D. 180–395 (New York, 2004), 66–82. For other recent ideas about elites, see
Arethusa, XXXIII (Fall, 2000), which was entirely dedicated to elites, especially in late antiq-
uity. For local elites, see Mireille Cebeillac-Gervasoni and Laurent Lamoine (eds.), Les élites et
leurs facettes: les élites locales dans le monde hellénistique et romain (Rome, 2003). Keith Hopkins is
a pioneer in the ªeld of ancient history for his early attempts to apply models from sociology
and anthropology to the ancient world in, for example, “On the Probable Age Structure of
the Roman Population,” Population Studies, XX (1966), 245–264; idem, Conquerors and Slaves
(New York, 1978); idem, Death and Renewal (New York, 1983). See also Brent Shaw, “Social
Science and Ancient History: Keith Hopkins in Partibus Fidelium,” Helios, IX (1982), 19–20,
which depicts the traditional approach of modern scholarship about the ancient world as
“empirico-positivistic (logico-inductive), causal, and event-speciªc.” Scholars who analyze
the ancient economy or the demography of the ancient world are not averse to employing
models. See Willem Jongman, The Economy and Society in Ancient Pompeii (Amsterdam, 1988);
Paul Erdkamp, “Beyond the Limits of the ‘Consumer City’: A Model of the Urban and Rural
Economy in the Roman World,” Historia, L (2001), 332–356; Walter Scheidel, “Emperors,
Aristocrats, and the Grim Reaper: Towards a Demographic Proªle of the Roman Élite,”
Classical Quarterly, XLIX (1999), 254–281; idem, “Roman Age Structure: Evidence and
Models,” Journal of Roman Studies, XVI (2001), 1–26.
236 | DAN IË L L E S L O OT J ES
offering a study of local elites will have to deal with the problem of
terminology and deªnition. Scholars seem to accept the adequacy
of the general term local elite, despite its vagueness in practice:
What precisely does local mean in such a context, and who are the
individuals who collectively make up the elite? To be sure, city
councilors in the Roman Empire would be considered members
of the local elite, but what about senators and equites (horsemen or
knights) who had local estates and were involved in the function-
ing of local communities? Were they to be regarded as members of
the local elite as well? Senators and city councilors were hardly
equals. Furthermore, are the local elites of the bigger cities—such
as Athens, Alexandria, or Ephesus—comparable with those in the
thousands of smaller ones that were spread throughout the Em-
pire? The top people in Alexandria were not in the same league as
those in any of the smaller towns. Regrettably, these issues have
not often been taken into consideration in modern studies on local
elites in the Roman Empire.2
In her examination of “Roman imperial identities,” Perkins
employs “the term elite to designate a group identity evolving
across the empire that united persons from different geographical
locations and ethnic backgrounds, with ‘power, status and
wealth’”(4). Perkins’ aim is to examine those people who moved,
both physically and mentally, from a “smaller place” to a “larger
world” within Empire culture. She focuses on two speciªc
groups, elites and Christians, whose experiences as cosmopolitan
trans-Empire social entities can enlarge our understanding of the
Empire at large. Perkins’ functional deªnition allows her to group
all of those with power, status, and wealth throughout the entire
Empire, without apparently having to specify further what power,
status, or wealth means. Her deªnition, therefore, remains a gen-
2 Other terms referring to the same group of people at the local level are “local aristocracy”
or “nobility,” general and vague terms that need further explanation. See Christian Witschel
and Barbara Borg, “Veränderungen im Repräsentationsverhalten der römischen Eliten
während des 3. Jhs. n.Chr.,” in Alföldy and Silvio Panciera (eds.), Inschriftliche Denkmäler als
Medien der Selbstdarstellung in der römischen Welt (Stuttgart, 2001), 62, which discusses the in-
scriptions for the “gewöhnliche Angehörige der lokalen Oberschicht” but does not identify
who these people were, though implying that the local upper classes also contained
“ungewöhnliche” members. See also Hubert Devijver, “Local Elite, Equestrians and Sena-
tors: A Social History of Roman Sagalassos,” Ancient Society, XXVII (1996), 106, where the
term “local municipal elite” appears; for the problem of terminology, Clifford Ando, “The
Army and the Urban Elite: A Competition for Power,” in Erdkamp (ed.), A Companion to the
Roman Army (Malden, Mass., 2007), 360–361.
LOC AL E L ITE S IN T H E RO M A N WO R LD | 237
eral description of a broad collection of people. She reªnes it,
however, by adding particular qualities: “I will use ‘elite’ to desig-
nate the trans-empire group identity evolving in the early empire
of persons bound together by ties of privilege, education, culture,
and connections with the imperial center and by the shared self-
identity these ties constituted” (5).3
With this deªnition in hand, Perkins turns to the sources, es-
pecially the Greek novels (by Chariton, Xenophon of Ephesus,
Achilles Tatius, and Heliodorus) and the political writings (by Plu-
tarch, Dio Chrysostomus, and Aelius Aristides) of the ªrst and sec-
ond centuries a.d., favored by members of the elite. However, her
analysis of the local elites, like that of many other scholars, remains
at an abstract level. Perkins gives examples of individuals playing
particular social roles in the novels, but she does not fully relate
them to the actual network of elite relations that undoubtedly in-
volved, at least in some cases, imperial ofªcials or even the em-
peror. Her focus on such themes as “cultural” and “cosmopolitan”
identities and the functioning of the human body in the ancient
world provides valuable information about how elites and Chris-
tians collectively dealt with Roman society, and vice versa, but the
relationships and experiences of people in the real world are miss-
ing (1–2; 17–44, 62–89, for analyses of the Greek novels and the
political writings).
Perkins’ work illustrates a key problem in the study of local
elites in the Roman Empire, as well as elites in many other em-
pires and societies—the difªculty of integrating conceptual analy-
sis with an examination of actual individuals. Furthermore, Per-
kins’ deªnition of elites implicates many other complex terms—
such as power, wealth, status, education, and network—that stand in
need of explication. In 2008, Rufªni presented a study of social
networks in Byzantine Egypt, mainly those of Oxyrhynchus and
Aphrodito, that employed the traditional prosopographical ap-
proach to the sources but also made use of social-network analysis.
As Rufªni and others have demonstrated, network analysis can
both conªrm what ancient historians already suspected and offer
new insights.4
3 Peter Garnsey, Social Status and Legal Privilege in the Roman Empire (New York, 1970).
4 Giovanni Rufªni, Social Networks in Byzantine Egypt (New York, 2008), which explicitly
states why social-network analysis, a tool frequently used in sociology and cultural anthropol-
ogy, can be an asset to the study of ancient history (1–40). See also Irad Malkin, Christy
238 | DAN IË L L E S L O OT J ES
division du travail social (Paris, 1893). Randall Collins, “Mann’s Transformations of the Classic
Sociological Traditions,” in Hall and Schroeder (eds.), Anatomy of Power, 22. For criticism of
Mann’s inclusion of military power, see Poggi, “Political Power Un-manned: A Defence of
the Holy Trinity from Mann’s Military Attack,” ibid., 135–149. For Mann’s standing in the
tradition of Marx, Weber, and Durkheim, see Mann, History of Power, 4; Poggi, Forms of Power,
8–14; for Mann’s ideas about social networks, Mann, History of Power, 2, 4–6, 27; for Mann’s
advancements in his theory of state formation and comments on his view of social networks,
Jack A. Goldstone, “A Historical, Not Comparative, Method: Breakthroughs and Limitations
in the Theory and Methodology of Michael Mann’s Analysis of Power,” in Hall and
Schroeder (eds.), Anatomy of Power, 263–264.
8 See Blaut, Eurocentric Historians, 114–116, for criticism of Mann’s “peculiar theory about
the role of Greece in the process.”
9 Weber, Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft (Tübingen, 1972; orig. pub. 1922), 531. See also the re-
view by Carlos Noreña of Oliver Hekster and Richard Fowler, Imaginery Kings: Royal Images
LOC AL E L ITE S IN T H E RO M A N WO R LD | 241
tradition, he is careful to make a sharp distinction between “dis-
tributive” and “collective” power. Distributive power refers to A’s
ability to dominate B. For B to gain ground, A must lose ground;
their relationship is a “zero-sum game” with a ªxed amount of
power. Collective power denotes a situation in which “persons in
cooperation can enhance their joint power over third parties or
over nature.”10
Always unevenly distributed, power implies both control and
obedience. People accept the rule of others for numerous reasons.
Regarding Roman society, Ando argued—in Weberian fashion—
that “submission to magistrates with access to coercive force need
not be motivated by faith in a regime’s legitimacy. Loyalism, like
all behaviors, can be simulated, by individuals or groups, from op-
portunism, calculated self-interest, or sheer helplessness.” Presum-
ably, those who accepted the dominance of local elites enjoyed the
beneªts of their obedience, wheareas the local elites who obeyed
the emperor and his representatives may well have behaved ac-
cording to calculated self-interest. Power at the local level was cer-
tainly not isolated from power at the provincial or imperial level in
the Roman Empire. Decisions and actions taken in the upper
reaches of authority had an effect on the local level.11
in the Ancient Near East, Greece and Rome (Stuttgart, 2005), in Bryn Mawr Classical Review
(2006.07.06), at http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2006/2006-07-06.html. For deªnitions of
power, see Mann, History of Power, 6; Poggi, Forms of Power, 1–2; for further discussion, Steven
Lukes, Power: A Radical View (London, 1974); Dietrich Rueschemeyer, Power and the Division
of Labour (New York, 1986); Barry Barnes, The Nature of Power (New York, 1988); Dennis
Wrong, Power: Its Forms, Bases, and Uses (Chicago, 1988; orig. pub. 1979); Stewart Clegg,
Frameworks of Power (London, 1989); Scott, Power.
10 Mann bases this distinction on Talcott Parsons, Structure and Process in Modern Societies
(New York, 1960), 199–225. See Mann, History of Power, 6–7; Philip S. Gorski, “Mann’s The-
ory of Ideological Power: Sources, Applications and Elaborations,” in Hall and Schroeder
(eds.), Anatomy of Power, 102–103.
11 Stanley Rothman, “Political Elite: Recruitment And Careers,” International Encyclopedia
of Social & Behavioral Sciences (2004), 11656–11661(on control and obedience); Ando, Imperial
Ideology, 374; Mann, History of Power, 8 (on authoritative power that “comprises deªnite com-
mands and conscious obedience”).
242 | DAN IË L L E S L O OT J ES
Ramsey MacMullen, “The Legion as a Society,” Historia, XXXIII (1984), 440–456; De Blois,
The Policy of the Emperor Gallienus (Leiden, 1976), 83–86; Michel Christol, “Armée et société
politique dans l’empire romain au IIIe siècle ap. J.-C. (de l’époque sévérienne au début de
l’époque constantinienne),” Civiltà Classica e Cristiana, IX (1988), 169–204; for arguments
against the use of the terminology and concept of “militarization,” Peter Eich, Zur Metamor-
phose des politischen Systems in der römischen Kaiserzeit: Die Entstehung einer”personalen Bürokratie”
im langen dritten Jahrhundert (Berlin, 2005), 362–369; Peter Brown, “The Study of Elites in Late
Antiquity,” Arethusa, XXXIII (2000), 333.
13 Mann, History of Power, 24. The lack of sources makes it difªcult to establish the requisite
wealth needed to be a city councilor. Furthermore, regulations differed from city to city.
Pliny the Younger implies that in the early second century, a man needed about one-tenth of
the minimum property qualiªcation of a senator, which was 1,000,000 sesterces, to be eligible
for membership in a town council: “By the census you have 100.000 sesterces, which satisfac-
torily indicates that you are a town-councillor of Comum. Therefore, so that we not only
make use of you as a town-councillor but also as an eques, I want to give you another 300.000
to make up your qualiªcation for the equestrian order” (Pliny, Epistula 1.19). See Arnold
H. M. Jones, The Later Roman Empire 284–602 (Baltimore, 1964), 738–739; Richard Duncan-
Jones, The Economy of the Roman Empire: Quantitative Studies (New York, 1982; orig. pub.
1974), 17–32, 243; Richard Talbert, The Senate of Imperial Rome (Princeton, 1984), 48–53;
Friedemann Quaß, Die Honoratiorenschicht in den Städten des griechischen Ostens (Stuttgart, 1993),
343, 383; Pleket, Political Culture, 206; Vittinghof, Europäische Wirtschafts- und Sozialgeschichte,
200; Benet Salway, “Prefects, Patroni and Decurions: A New Perspective on the Album of
Canusium,” in Alison Cooley (ed.), The Epigraphic Landscape of Roman Italy (London, 2000),
115–171.
244 | DAN IË L L E S L O OT J ES
16 For a discussion of the inscription’s date, see Theodor Mommsen (ed.), Corpus Inscrip-
tionum Latinarum (cil) (Berlin, 1872), 5.5036 (Mommsen’s comments on 531); Denis van
Berchem,”L’annone militaire dans l’empire romain au IIIe siècle,” Mémoires de la Société na-
tionale des antiquaires de France, X (1937), 117–202, esp. 151; Fritz Mitthof, Annona Militaris:
Die Heeresversorung im spätantiken Ägypten: Ein Beitrag zur Verwaltungs- und Heeresgschichte des
Römischen Reiches im 3. bis 6. Jh. n. Chr. (Florence, 2001), 75, n. 173. A praefectus quinquennalis
was part of the local government—a member of the local council and patronus of the ªre
brigade—in the cities of the Roman Empire and appointed as substitute for the emperor or a
member of the imperial family who were elected into the highest local magistracy (that of
duovir) but who would never in reality take up that ofªce.
LOC AL E L ITE S IN T H E RO M A N WO R LD | 247
of power at the local level or about relationships between mem-
bers of the elite. A genuine sense of Valerius’ position requires a
close look at the cities and region where he was active and a com-
parison of the evidence about him with that of other contempo-
rary members of the elite. As situated within the iemp model,
Valerius’ possession of three of the four sources of social power
should be an indication of high status and considerable inºuence
in the region. But the discovery of others in the same locale who
fell into one or more of the iemp categories would help to further
our sense of local, and even regional, relations of power.
Valerius exempliªes thousands of individuals named on in-
scriptions who cannot be linked to a speciªc date or to a larger
network. A better approach to how individuals contributed to a
local power structure might be to perform an intensive case study
of an entire city or area that produced multiple inscriptions and
other literary artifacts. In Aphrodisias, for example, inscriptional
evidence from approximately a.d. 100 to 300 reveals about
200 men and women who were participants in the local power
structures—members of the local and supra-local elite. Entering
these individuals into a database would not only enable a detailed
mapping of their various sources of power but also possibly lead to
the discovery of the networks in which they operated.17
In addition to the use of traditional prosopographical methods
to detect the individuals that comprised the local elite of Aphro-
disias, Mann’s iemp dimensions permit a more “neutral” explora-
tion of the ancient evidence by describing the sources of power
without recourse to the traditional boundaries between, or deªni-
tions of, local people that might diminish the scope of the ªnd-
17 Ongoing large-scale excavations at the site, started by Kenan Erimin in 1962 and now
under the direction of Christopher Ratté and Bert Smith, have resulted in numerous publica-
tions: for example, the Aphrodisias Papers I, II, III, and IV (1990–2008), in the Journal of Roman
Archaeology supplements; several contributions by Ratté and Smith in American Journal of Ar-
chaeology: XCIX–CII (1995–1998), CIV (2000), CVIII (2004), CXII (2008); Joyce Reynolds,
Aphrodisias and Rome (London, 1982); Erim, Aphrodisias: City of Venus Aphrodite (London,
1986); Charlotte Roueché, Aphrodisias in Late Antiquity (London, 1989); idem, Performers and
Partisans at Aphrodisias in the Roman and Late Roman Periods (London, 1993); Angelos Chan-
iotis, “New Inscriptions from Aphrodisias (1995–2001),” American Journal of Archaeology, CVIII
(2004), 377–416. The individuals examined are based largely on Smith (ed.), Aphrodisias II:
Roman Portrait Statuary from Aphrodisias (Mainz am Rhein, 2006), 77–96; Chaniotis, New in-
scriptions. Many inscriptions link generations of family members and families to other families
through marriages. For instance, the family of Adrastos Hierax was obviously prominent in
Aphrodisias from the ªrst through the third centuries (ibid., 411), and in the second century,
the senatorial family of the Carminii, probably ran in the the same small inner circle as the
Hierax (ibid., 387–388).
248 | DAN IË L L E S L O OT J ES
ings. There may well have been a broader set of people in posi-
tions of power and inºuence—of “dissonant status” as they might
be called—who did not ostensibly inhabit a community’s politi-
cally powerful inner circle. For instance, Tacoma’s study of urban
elites in third-century Egypt revealed a substantial group of busi-
nessmen who were just as wealthy as city councilors but who were
apparently excluded from politics. His study discovered a rela-
tively small core group within each urban elite that remained con-
sistent during long periods of time but did not preclude newcom-
ers to their periphery from the “regular urban population, more
speciªcally among the landowners directly below the elite.” In
this reconstruction, once-elite families outside the core group
who were on a downward spiral frequently reverted to non-elite
status, to be replaced by new, up-and-coming families. The eco-
nomic-power dimension within the iemp model would acknowl-
edge the power that these socially mobile men had within their
communities. It would also recognize the power of wealthy
women with large estates, who sometimes were great benefactors
to their communities, though political power was beyond their
ken.18
Another group in this extended elite were the numerous
liberti (freedmen) who belonged to supra-local potentes (groups of
powerful people) and who were (economically) inºuential in their
community. For example, more than twenty inscriptions dating to
the early second century, mostly from Barcino, honor Lucius
Licinius Secundus, the libertus of the senator Lucius Licinius Sura,
18 See Lothar Wierschowski, Die regionale Mobilität in Gallien nach den Inschriften des 1. bis 3.
Jahrhundert n. Chr. (Stuttgart, 1995), 221, which argues that the “Oberschichten” group in-
cluded more people than just those decurions with political power. Wierschowski limits his
scope to equites and seviri (custodians of cults). See Theisssen, “Social Structure in Pauline
Communities,” 67, n. 8, 73, which discusses dissonant status, based on Vittinghof, Europäische
Wirtschafts- und Sozialgeschichte, 205. Tacoma, Fragile Hierarchies, writes, “It is much easier to
seek the new entrants in the layers of society directly beneath the elite of landowners: among
those people with landholdings just below the minimum requirement for elite entrance. It is
to this group that discontinuous elite families reverted, and it is in this group that social risers
should be sought. No social stigma attached to their rise because they belonged essentially to
the same milieu, and shared the same ideology” (264). A good example of a woman with a
large estate is Apollonis, who was honored posthumously at the beginning of the ªrst century
a.d. in Kyzikos, Asia Minor. Reactions to her death and the composition of her funeral pro-
cession are clear indications of her inºuence within the community. See Riet van Bremen,
The Limits of Participation: Women and Civic Life in the Greek East and the Hellenistic and Roman
Periods (Amsterdam, 1996), 1–3, 47–54 (on the legal context within which women sponsored
munera, honores, and priesthoods); Emily Hemelrijk, “City Patronesses in the Roman Em-
pire,” Historia, LIII (2004), 209–245.
LOC AL E L ITE S IN T H E RO M A N WO R LD | 249
who had been a close friend of the emperor Trajan. Other liberti
who might have played an important part in communities were
those who became Augustales (priests in the cult of Augustus). As
Patterson argues, Augustales, who had clear advantages over the
masses, were often crucial to the successful functioning of the cit-
ies. Finally, freedmen who rose to the status of imperial procurator,
(ªnancial agent and administrator) could be important locally
when stationed in the provinces. The iemp model would un-
doubtedly acknowledge the power of these people, even though
the traditional approach might not include them within local
elites.19
19 For the dossier of Lucius Licinius Secundus, see André Chastagnol, Marcel Le Glay, and
Patrick Le Roux (eds.), Année épigraphique (ae) (Paris, 1981), 569; Alfred Merlin (ed.), ae
(1957), 26; Georges Fabre, Marc Mayer, and Isabel Rodà (eds.), Inscriptions Romaines de
Catalogne (irc) (Paris, 1997), IV, 4.100; cil 2.4536–48; 2.6148 (irc 4.101); 2.6148c–d (irc
4.86–87); 2.6149 (irc 4.95); Hispania Epigraphica (he) 7.182–83 (http://eda-bea.es/); irc
4.88; irc 4.100, irc 4.102–103; irc 1.125. See also Alföldy, “Die Bildprogramme in den
römischen Städten des Conventus Tarraconensis: das Zeugnis der Statuenpostamenta,” in
Antonino Blanco et al. (eds.), Homenaje a Garcia y Bellido (Madrid, 1979), IV, 177–275,
esp. 222. Patterson, Landscape & Cities: Rural Settlement and Civic Transformation in Early Impe-
rial Italy (New York, 2006), 242–250. See Eck, “Elite und Leitbilder in der römischen
Kaiserzeit,” in Jürgen Dummer and Meinolf Vielberg (eds.), Leitbilder der Spätantike—Eliten
und Leitbilder (Stuttgart, 1999), 31–55, esp. 46–47, which mentions the case of T. Flavius
Pergamus, who became the second-most powerful man in the province of Asia behind the
equestrian procurator.
20 See James Manning, Land and Power in Ptolemaic Egypt: The Structure of Land Tenure (New
York, 2003), which applies the iemp model (misnamed as imep) to Ptolemaic Egypt.