1.1. Introduction
This chapter has critical aims. It clears ground for the constructive chapters that follow. In the first section, I sketch a history of the loss of belief in scholarship on Roman religion. I show how a dichotomy between belief and action accompanied by a denial of belief had sprung up by the early twentieth century and had come to prevail by the centuryâs end. The origins of the dichotomy lie in early Christian antipagan polemic, while belief-denial was encouraged by developments in late twentieth-century anthropology. In the second, final section, I expose some of the flaws of the central premises and arguments offered in support of the belief-action dichotomy and belief-denial.
This chapter and the next four attempt to show that belief is not nearly as fraught as has often been assumed. As we shall see, some scholars have taken âbeliefâ to name a distinctively Christian attitude, not available to traditional Romans. Instead, I will be arguing, âbeliefâ is just the English word for a very basic sort of cognitive state, which is characteristic of all neurotypical human beings, whose job is to represent the way things stand in the world. It will turn out that belief, under this deflationary description, plays a central role in our cognitive and practical lives. It underlies emotion, individual and collective action, and even socioreligious reality. Before we deal with these contentions, however, we must address in the present chapter the question of how belief came to be divorced from action and then denied altogether in scholarship on Roman religion.
1.2. A History of Belief-Denial and the Belief-Action Dichotomy
An important survey of Roman religion by John North closes by recapitulating its aim âto summarize and report on some fundamental changes in our way of looking at the religious life of Roman pagans.â North notes that âthe understanding ofâ Roman religion had been âblocked in the past by expectations inappropriate to the Romansâ time and place.â One of these inappropriate expectations consisted of attributing too much importance to âany question of the participantsâ belief or disbelief in the efficacy of ritual actions.â In contrast, scholars had concluded in recent decades that they had âgood reason to suspect that the whole problem [sc. of belief] derives from later not pagan preoccupations.â Belief was now to be seen as largely anachronistic to Roman religion and reference to it usually a solecism. Evaluation of the new approach was welcomed âby the progress that may be made, or not made, in the futureâ under its auspices.
Now, there can be no doubt that the past several decades, and especially the years since the publication of Northâs survey, have witnessed unprecedented growth in novel, productive, theoretically sophisticated, and self-reflexive approaches to Roman religion. And yet I would plead that a tendency in evidence throughout this period, the tendency to assert that belief is not a category of much relevance to the Romans, has impeded our appreciation of the cognitive aspects of Roman cult. Despite some notable recent attempts to challenge this attitude, antibelief convictions persist among some classicists. In certain respects, such convictions are quite traditional, rooted in early Christian polemics against pagans that were appropriated into Protestant disparagement of Catholic ritualism. In other respects, antibelief sentiments are new, stemming from late twentieth-century anthropological theorizing. So let us begin by briefly reviewing the fate of belief in scholarship on Roman religion. For we must see whence we have come in order to grasp where we are and to decide where we wish to go.
Once upon a time, researching Roman religion meant, in part, reconstructing its âoriginalâ state from the evidence of necessarily later sources. This pursuit occupied scholars such as Johann Adam Hartung, who helped found the field with his Die Religion der Römer in 1836. In the striking image of his âVorrede,â Hartung describes authentic Roman religion as âan ancient templeâ (ein alter Tempel) on which a later structure (Ăberbau), assembled of Greek and other alien materials, had been imposed. Both of these structures collapsed, leaving to the scholar the task of excavating the remains (die TrĂŒmmer) of the first structure from under the rubble of the later one. Hartungâs image of architectural supersession and collapse proved canonical: Preller, Aust, and Wissowa, among others, cited it approvingly. Guided by Hartungâs conceit, with its tragic motif of âdas Erlöschen des alten Glaubensâ (the dying out of the old belief), scholars could not but disparage the religion of the historical republic as contaminated or degenerate.
This thesis sat well with Theodor Mommsen, for whom âthe old national religion was visibly on the declineâ in the age of Cato and Ennius, undermined by Hellenism and other eastern influences. However, for Mommsen, Roman religion qua religion had always fallen short. At its best, it had served as a system of ritual marked by a practical legalism, but by the late republic it was merely a tool with which the elite cynically exploited âthe principles of the popular belief, which were recognized as irrational [als irrationell erkannten SĂ€tze des Volksglaubens], for reasons of outward convenience.â Mommsenâs view of republican religion as a means of manipulation or social control has ancient authority, for example, that of Polybius (6.56), whom he cites. More importantly, it is surely no coincidence that this scholar, with his particular interests and expertise, should have identified a legalistic paradigm at the heart of Roman religion.
Mommsenâs legalistic paradigm proved influential; Georg Wissowa absorbed its lessons. He dedicated the first edition of his still fundamental Religion und Kultus der Römer to the elder scholar, asserting that without Mommsenâs Lebenswerkâespecially Römisches Staatsrecht (1871â88) and his contributions on the Fasti to CIL I, pars prior (18932)âhis own work would not exist. In the âVorwortâ to his bookâs second edition, Wissowa responded to the charge that his account lacked âReligiositĂ€t.â Defending his âjuristischeâ perspective, that is, the âGesichtspunkt des ius pontificiumâ (point of view of the priestly law) he explicitly aligned himself with Mommsen and his paradigm. It was for another scholar, Franz Cumont, to discover a source of the âreligiosityâ that Wissowa had neglected: the âOriental religions.â Cumont adduced dry Roman legalism to explain the appeal of these foreign cults. Roman religion was âfroideâ (cold) and âprosaĂŻqueâ (prosaic), its priests comparable to jurists, its observances comparable to legal practice.
Cumontâs cold legalism stopped one step short of empty formalism. Arthur Darby Nock, an otherwise extraordinarily sensitive scholar, took that step. In his essay for the tenth volume of The Cambridge Ancient History (1934), Nock asserted that Roman religion was âin its essence a matter of cult actsâ (465). It was a âreligion made up of traditional practiceâ; âit was not a matter of beliefâ (469); it was, in a word, âjejuneâ (467). In Nockâs appraisal, we see quite clearly the dichotomy between belief and practice that came to inform even the most rigorous scholarship: Roman religion was strictly âa matter of cult actsâ; âit was not a matter of belief.â Where Hartung had traced a âdying outâ of belief, and where Mommsen had derided âirrationalâ belief, Nock saw no real role for belief at all, only empty cult. This is not to say that Nock had taken the step that later scholars would take and denied that Romans could believe. It was merely that Roman belief was not a relevant component of Roman cult. A dichotomy b...