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The Romanization of Central Spain: Complexity, Diversity and Change in a Provincial Hinterland
Curchin explores how, why and to what extent the peoples of Central Spain were integrated into the Roman Empire during the period from the second century BC to the second century AD.
He approaches the question from a variety of angles, including the social, economic, religious and material experiences of the inhabitants as they adjusted to change, the mechanisms by which they adopted new structures and values, and the power relations between Rome and the provincials. The book also considers the peculiar cultural features of Central Spain, which made its Romanization so distinctive.
He approaches the question from a variety of angles, including the social, economic, religious and material experiences of the inhabitants as they adjusted to change, the mechanisms by which they adopted new structures and values, and the power relations between Rome and the provincials. The book also considers the peculiar cultural features of Central Spain, which made its Romanization so distinctive.
- GenresSpain
320 pages, Hardcover
First published September 11, 2003
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March 10, 2024
I picked up this book because it intersects with my interest in classical antiquity and my having [partially] grown up in central Spain, an area known as la Meseta Central. It is a book built on the archeological record, and I found it quite interesting and informative. The book stimulates thought about what it may have been like to live in central Spain while the political landscape transitioned from a community of chiefdoms and hilltop towns to a network of Roman-style cities.
In Late Roman Spain and Its Cities, Michael Kulikowski writes that Spain had perhaps 300–400 cities at the height of the Roman empire. In this book, Curchin estimates that central Spain had 161 Roman-era towns. That would be 50–40% of all the towns in Spain, against Kulikowski's estimate. Because Churchin's estimate would have to be much lower to seriously dent that ratio, I think Kulikowski's estimate is too low. While central Spain had many important cities, the area in general was less important, less wealthy (less well endowed in terms of rainfall and soil quality), and less urbanized than Baetica (southern Spain), Tarragona (the northeastern coast), or Lusitania (southwestern Spain and southern Portugal). So it shouldn't have 50–40% of all cities in Roman Spain.
On the flip side, the relatively lesser degree of urbanization also means that the study of Romanization of the area must adopt a more rural angle. This is refreshing because most studies of Romanization are very city-centric. But as Curchin argues, if 90% of the central Spanish population remained rural, then cultural integration in rural areas is much more significant than the urban process in terms of impact on the people of the Spanish Meseta. The book does spend some time on villas, villages (vici), and the rural economy, but it's high-level and the chapter is half-occupied with a discussion on roads.
An interesting idea that stems from the fact that the Romanization of the rural world must be more significant than the Romanization of the urban world is that Romanization is not a discrete process. Instead of rural-urban, think of it terms of social class. The Celtiberean metalworker tied to a large estate had a very different identity to the Celtiberean estate owner, so their starting point from pre-Roman Spain to Roman Spain were different. Their end points must have been different as well. So it follows that Romanization probably took on a very different shape for each person. The practical implication is that evidence for Romanization in one context that is missing in another doesn't also imply a lack of Romanization in the latter.
For example, the area of the Meseta occupied by the Vaccaei, Turmogi, and Pelendones has a smaller ratio of recorded duo nomina to single names among females, and likewise for tria nomina names to duo nomina or single name among men. These areas also tend to have a much smaller proportion of toponyms based on Latin. They have less inscriptions and evidence of writing, either Latin or Celtiberian, too. Yet, this area contains important Roman-era cities, adopted Roman coins, and its landscape was transformed by villas. More space or research devoted to the archeology of Roman villas in Spain would perhaps have shed some additional insight on the Romanization process for the true average Celtiberean — the rural commoner.
The author does note that villa archeology suffers from a lack of general interest in the outbuildings. This may be true in aggregate, but there are specific examples of broader archeological research around villas in the area of study. One prominent example that immediately comes to mind is the Roman villa at La Olmeda, in modern-day Palencia, which originated during the 1st century A.D. They've found baths, mosaics, a bakery, et cetera; a significant rural workforce was exposed to Romanization in this way, even if what it meant to the baker was completely different to what it meant to the landlord.
One curious point the author makes is that the gradual incorporation of all of the Iberian Peninsula into the Roman Empire had important implications on what it meant for one's job prospects and idea of the size of the world. Roman conquest of La Meseta and Lusitania connected central Spain with western Spain through the Duero, Tajo, and Guadiana Rivers. The author notes 162 persons recorded to have left the Meseta post-Roman annexation. Of these, 40 left the peninsula (25%). 29 (18%) went to northwestern Spain, 30 (19%) to the rest of northern/northeastern Spain, and 56 (35%) to Lusitania. Why so many to Lusitania, which is relatively remote from the rest of the empire? Because of the rivers. But also attractive to people in the relatively poor area of la Meseta was working in the mines of northwestern Spain, or the religious and administrative center of Tarraco.
Curchin also makes a strong argument regarding central Spain's economic role within the Mediterranean economy of the Roman Empire. He documents the research as far as the import of ceramic wares and other material goods from elsewhere in Spain or the empire. How did the locals pay for these? How did they achieve a balance of trade? Curchin argues that La Meseta's main export must have been its grain. Although this area's grain production was not comparable to that of North Africa or Egypt, it was significant at least within the context of the Iberian economy. Central Spain must have exported wheat, barley, and other agricultural goods to the cities of southern and eastern coastal Spain, using their earnings here to buy the material goods not manufactured locally.
Borrowing from Miguel Alba's article in La Fundación de Augusta Emerita y Los Orígenes de Lusitania, it's also possible that central Spanish grain held significant within the context of Roman military campaigns, first in Asturia (the Cantabrian Wars) and second in Germany and Britain. Curchin admits that one point against his argument is that it's expensive to transport goods overland. But this output could have been transported over river where possible, then by land to traverse areas where the rivers were not navigable, then back onto riverine transports until reaching destinations like Augusta Emerita. From there, they'd be distributed from western ports to southern Spain, Mauretania, or northwestern Europe.
Another interesting facet of Romanization of Spain, highlighted in this book, is the relocation of many pre-Roman Iron Age hilltop settlements. Roman urbanization typically entailed the movement of populations from hilltop settlements to towns in the plains. Under Pax Romana, the defensive logic of hilltop towns makes less sense. It's also easier to build on flat land, including the trajectory of the decumanus maximus and cardo maximus, the two major roads that intersected the typical Roman-style city. And it's easier to control the population in this way, as well. But, in central Spain, although the Romans did relocate the Iron Age settlements that survived the transition, many of these Roman-era cities were still built atop hills or on slopes. 77% of late Iron Age, pre-Roman settlements sat on hills. Even post-conquest, over 50% of net new Roman settlements in central Spain were built on hills. This is peculiar and perhaps a result of the fact that, for a century and a half, La Meseta served as the frontier zone between Roman and free Spain.
One other interesting fact about urbanization in central Spain is the attrition rate suffered by pre-Roman settlements. Of the 441 pre-Roman settlements in central Spain, only 21% are continuations of earlier settlements. 72% of these 441 were then abandoned by the time of the Roman Empire.
The Romanization of Central Spain covers all the dimensions of the archeological record you can think of: the utensils and plates, clothing, jewelry, and tools that were used. It covers changes in religious observance, cultural and social customs, and transitions in language. All of these are fascinating. For example, did you know that even evidence of Celtiberean-language writing is evidence of Romanization? There was no writing before the Romans came, either in Latin or Celtiberean script. Even the act of writing in your local language is, then, an artifact of Roman influence. Likewise with the appearance of religious imagery. Before Roman arrival, Celtic religion was aniconic. Not so after.
The book also does a very good job of conveying the fact that Romanization does not mean the wholesale adoption of Roman customs, as if Spain took on the trappings of Rome. Roman customs, technology, language, et cetera, were adopted as needed given the geographic, political, social, and other contexts that define each specific local society. And they were adopted in a way that often mixed, not replaced, indigenous or pre-Roman culture. For example, rural superstitions and forms of spiritual worship continue through the Roman era, as we know from a condemnation of such worship by the 12th Council of Toledo in 681 A.D.
I'm very glad I picked up and read this book. I know the Roman world in central Spain through the aqueduct of Segovia, the Roman arch at Medinaceli, and the ruins of Segobriga, Complutum, and other cities. And this urban world left an obvious and deep impression on central Spanish culture. The landscape is littered with Roman amphitheaters, theaters, and circuses, all institutions that must have spread Roman culture and language to urban and rural populations both. But the Roman world extended beyond the city and to the countryside, through villas and to the villages (vici) that housed the majority of central Spain's population. This book makes me appreciate more the complexity of what it meant to be Roman or, rather, what it meant to be a farmer from Spain in the Roman world.
In Late Roman Spain and Its Cities, Michael Kulikowski writes that Spain had perhaps 300–400 cities at the height of the Roman empire. In this book, Curchin estimates that central Spain had 161 Roman-era towns. That would be 50–40% of all the towns in Spain, against Kulikowski's estimate. Because Churchin's estimate would have to be much lower to seriously dent that ratio, I think Kulikowski's estimate is too low. While central Spain had many important cities, the area in general was less important, less wealthy (less well endowed in terms of rainfall and soil quality), and less urbanized than Baetica (southern Spain), Tarragona (the northeastern coast), or Lusitania (southwestern Spain and southern Portugal). So it shouldn't have 50–40% of all cities in Roman Spain.
On the flip side, the relatively lesser degree of urbanization also means that the study of Romanization of the area must adopt a more rural angle. This is refreshing because most studies of Romanization are very city-centric. But as Curchin argues, if 90% of the central Spanish population remained rural, then cultural integration in rural areas is much more significant than the urban process in terms of impact on the people of the Spanish Meseta. The book does spend some time on villas, villages (vici), and the rural economy, but it's high-level and the chapter is half-occupied with a discussion on roads.
An interesting idea that stems from the fact that the Romanization of the rural world must be more significant than the Romanization of the urban world is that Romanization is not a discrete process. Instead of rural-urban, think of it terms of social class. The Celtiberean metalworker tied to a large estate had a very different identity to the Celtiberean estate owner, so their starting point from pre-Roman Spain to Roman Spain were different. Their end points must have been different as well. So it follows that Romanization probably took on a very different shape for each person. The practical implication is that evidence for Romanization in one context that is missing in another doesn't also imply a lack of Romanization in the latter.
For example, the area of the Meseta occupied by the Vaccaei, Turmogi, and Pelendones has a smaller ratio of recorded duo nomina to single names among females, and likewise for tria nomina names to duo nomina or single name among men. These areas also tend to have a much smaller proportion of toponyms based on Latin. They have less inscriptions and evidence of writing, either Latin or Celtiberian, too. Yet, this area contains important Roman-era cities, adopted Roman coins, and its landscape was transformed by villas. More space or research devoted to the archeology of Roman villas in Spain would perhaps have shed some additional insight on the Romanization process for the true average Celtiberean — the rural commoner.
The author does note that villa archeology suffers from a lack of general interest in the outbuildings. This may be true in aggregate, but there are specific examples of broader archeological research around villas in the area of study. One prominent example that immediately comes to mind is the Roman villa at La Olmeda, in modern-day Palencia, which originated during the 1st century A.D. They've found baths, mosaics, a bakery, et cetera; a significant rural workforce was exposed to Romanization in this way, even if what it meant to the baker was completely different to what it meant to the landlord.
One curious point the author makes is that the gradual incorporation of all of the Iberian Peninsula into the Roman Empire had important implications on what it meant for one's job prospects and idea of the size of the world. Roman conquest of La Meseta and Lusitania connected central Spain with western Spain through the Duero, Tajo, and Guadiana Rivers. The author notes 162 persons recorded to have left the Meseta post-Roman annexation. Of these, 40 left the peninsula (25%). 29 (18%) went to northwestern Spain, 30 (19%) to the rest of northern/northeastern Spain, and 56 (35%) to Lusitania. Why so many to Lusitania, which is relatively remote from the rest of the empire? Because of the rivers. But also attractive to people in the relatively poor area of la Meseta was working in the mines of northwestern Spain, or the religious and administrative center of Tarraco.
Curchin also makes a strong argument regarding central Spain's economic role within the Mediterranean economy of the Roman Empire. He documents the research as far as the import of ceramic wares and other material goods from elsewhere in Spain or the empire. How did the locals pay for these? How did they achieve a balance of trade? Curchin argues that La Meseta's main export must have been its grain. Although this area's grain production was not comparable to that of North Africa or Egypt, it was significant at least within the context of the Iberian economy. Central Spain must have exported wheat, barley, and other agricultural goods to the cities of southern and eastern coastal Spain, using their earnings here to buy the material goods not manufactured locally.
Borrowing from Miguel Alba's article in La Fundación de Augusta Emerita y Los Orígenes de Lusitania, it's also possible that central Spanish grain held significant within the context of Roman military campaigns, first in Asturia (the Cantabrian Wars) and second in Germany and Britain. Curchin admits that one point against his argument is that it's expensive to transport goods overland. But this output could have been transported over river where possible, then by land to traverse areas where the rivers were not navigable, then back onto riverine transports until reaching destinations like Augusta Emerita. From there, they'd be distributed from western ports to southern Spain, Mauretania, or northwestern Europe.
Another interesting facet of Romanization of Spain, highlighted in this book, is the relocation of many pre-Roman Iron Age hilltop settlements. Roman urbanization typically entailed the movement of populations from hilltop settlements to towns in the plains. Under Pax Romana, the defensive logic of hilltop towns makes less sense. It's also easier to build on flat land, including the trajectory of the decumanus maximus and cardo maximus, the two major roads that intersected the typical Roman-style city. And it's easier to control the population in this way, as well. But, in central Spain, although the Romans did relocate the Iron Age settlements that survived the transition, many of these Roman-era cities were still built atop hills or on slopes. 77% of late Iron Age, pre-Roman settlements sat on hills. Even post-conquest, over 50% of net new Roman settlements in central Spain were built on hills. This is peculiar and perhaps a result of the fact that, for a century and a half, La Meseta served as the frontier zone between Roman and free Spain.
One other interesting fact about urbanization in central Spain is the attrition rate suffered by pre-Roman settlements. Of the 441 pre-Roman settlements in central Spain, only 21% are continuations of earlier settlements. 72% of these 441 were then abandoned by the time of the Roman Empire.
The Romanization of Central Spain covers all the dimensions of the archeological record you can think of: the utensils and plates, clothing, jewelry, and tools that were used. It covers changes in religious observance, cultural and social customs, and transitions in language. All of these are fascinating. For example, did you know that even evidence of Celtiberean-language writing is evidence of Romanization? There was no writing before the Romans came, either in Latin or Celtiberean script. Even the act of writing in your local language is, then, an artifact of Roman influence. Likewise with the appearance of religious imagery. Before Roman arrival, Celtic religion was aniconic. Not so after.
The book also does a very good job of conveying the fact that Romanization does not mean the wholesale adoption of Roman customs, as if Spain took on the trappings of Rome. Roman customs, technology, language, et cetera, were adopted as needed given the geographic, political, social, and other contexts that define each specific local society. And they were adopted in a way that often mixed, not replaced, indigenous or pre-Roman culture. For example, rural superstitions and forms of spiritual worship continue through the Roman era, as we know from a condemnation of such worship by the 12th Council of Toledo in 681 A.D.
I'm very glad I picked up and read this book. I know the Roman world in central Spain through the aqueduct of Segovia, the Roman arch at Medinaceli, and the ruins of Segobriga, Complutum, and other cities. And this urban world left an obvious and deep impression on central Spanish culture. The landscape is littered with Roman amphitheaters, theaters, and circuses, all institutions that must have spread Roman culture and language to urban and rural populations both. But the Roman world extended beyond the city and to the countryside, through villas and to the villages (vici) that housed the majority of central Spain's population. This book makes me appreciate more the complexity of what it meant to be Roman or, rather, what it meant to be a farmer from Spain in the Roman world.
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