A Book review of :

The Classical Foundations of Modern Historiography

by Arnaldo Momigliano

Introduction

In his introduction of The Classical Foundations of Modern Historiography, Arnaldo Momigliano (1908-1987) set out early to mark off the perimeters of his inquiry. Considering the size of the book (162 pages in all), it is ambitious. Momigliano attempted "as a provisional attempt to reassess the value of ancient historiography in the light of the twentieth-century revolution in history writing." This aim is reflected in all the six chapters of the book. Momigliano always traced important elements bequeathed by the ancients towards the end of each chapter. This underlined Momigliano’s urge to show the clear line of continuity between classical historiography and modern history. His second concern was a reiteration of his firm belief that a historian’s job is to show Ranke’s ‘Wie es eigentlich gewesen’. A deconstructionist such as Hyden White, whose "history had become little more than a branch of rhetoric" would certainly have no place in Momigliano’s scheme of work. These in total are the main broad concerns of his book.

This paper will examine four areas. One, what was Momigliano’s attitude towards popular generalizations? Two, what novel insights did he bring up in this book? Three, why was his writing enjoyable to read? The final question; what were the problems inherent in the book which attempted to saddle such an ambitious scope(classical to modernity)? But before one attempts these, it is necessary to, in the words of E. H. Carr, ‘study the historian before you study the facts’

Background

In this modern age where most scholars are contented to ‘to make books out of books’ Momigliano’s output was colossal. This could partly be explained by his profound knowledge of Hebrew, Latin, Greek, Italian and English and partly by his Jewish childhood in a Piedmontese intellectual family, which made such multilingualism possible. However, his intellectual awakening happened when he entered the University of Turin in his late teens. There he published his first article when he was twenty and obtained his degree a year later (1929). The next year, his first book appeared, quickly followed by two other books in 1932 and 1934. His early career came to a full circle when he took the chair of Roman History of his alma mater in 1936.

His career in Turin, however, was cut short by the change of political climate. Italy turned fascist under Mussolini. Unable to function intellectually, he moved to England in 1939 with his wife and daughter. This was a timely move for him as at least nine members of his family died in the Holocaust. No doubt, this series of events left deep scars in him and forevermore he was a sworn enemy of totalitarianism, its accompanying absolutist theories and lackeys. For example, he did not hesitate to scornfully denounce the ex-Nazi Helmut Berve’s repulsive history of Greece in 1959. It also fundamentally altered his interest to historiography. He saw himself as a vital link to the tradition of history. It was his duty to bear witness to the abuse of scholarship in the fascist era.

During the war years, the process of learning to speak and write in English was tedious. Momigliano persevered and even mastered the language with its accompanying form, the short essay. At the meantime, Momigliano survived on grants and only took up a real position at Bristol in 1947 and subsequently the chair of ancient history at University College London in 1951. It was only with great reluctance that he left London in 1975 supposedly for retirement, but he immediately took up the University of Chicago’s offer. In this 50 years span of intellectual output, Momigliano, as mentioned before, concentrated on the relationship between ideas and history and their influence upon each other. He was especially interested in individual historians original enough to usher a new direction in historical thought. Thus, it is not surprising that Momigliano should indulge his pet interests in this book.

The Book

I

In his analysis of continuity of historical thought and great historians, Momigliano had no patience for weak generalizations. He backed every point with an array of evidences that were impressive in scope and depth. So much so that one reviewer was moved to comment that some evidences ‘are no more than names to me.’ For example, the generalization about the unhistorical consciousness of the Greeks cited by T. F. Driver was demolished by Momigliano’s mastery of the subject. Such fallacies were as bad as equating Plato with the Greek mind. Similarly, Momigliano showed that Polybius’s cyclical notion was confined only to the evolution of constitutions, certainly not political and military history.

Another example would be in Section VII of Chapter Four. Here Momigliano launched into an investigation on the origins of Fabius Pictor’s historical source. He discounted banquet songs as a source. He set about in a systematic manner to discredit this romantic notion revived by Bowra. The main argument was that in the early Roman era, popular legends were canonized before the annalists recorded them down. However, Momigliano demonstrated that the ordinary version of Coriolanus’s story was vastly different from Fabius’s account. This meant that in Fabius’s time, legends were still evolving and they only stabilized or canonized in the first century BC. Hence, it is evident in Fabius’s case that he was not informed of any banquet songs or it happened only after him.

Not satisfied with merely proving that Fabius used the Annals of the Pontiffs, he asked; why was Cato the Censor’s reaction towards the Annals vastly different from Cicero? He discovered the version read by Cicero was a revised version, which explained why Cato found his version of the Annals so boring. Moreover, the first recording of the Annals began at around 400 BC, but the first portion of Cicero’s copy began with the legendary Alba Longa! This goes a long way in explaining Fabius’s lack of details on events before the First Punic wars. Momigliano amply showed by his writing his disdain for generalization and his penchant for concrete evidences, which were ‘summary- defying erudite discussions’.

II

Momigliano displayed firm grounding in the technicalities of classical history. As a result, he overturned faulty generalizations and advanced novel insights. One reviewer compared Momigliano’s insights to ‘walking down a shady colonnade threaded with shafts of sunlight.’ His best examples were his revision of the dichotomy between Thucydides and Herodotus, the importance of antiquarian research and lastly the origins of proper documentation.

In orthodox history, it was common place to characterize Thucydides as truthful and Herodotus as a liar. But with the opening of the New World, Herodotus‘s stories were no longer seen as tall. Scholars in the Renaissance began to appreciate Herodotus enough to revive it. This was because, as rightly highlighted by Momigliano, Herodotus’s history was not so much deficient as completely different. The two traditions differed only by the methods of implementations. He perceived the difference as ‘..the revulsion of a man committed to political life (Thucydides) against a good humored cosmopolitan (Herodotus).’ More importantly, Momigliano viewed Herodotus’s method replicated in modern ethnography.

Next, Momigliano showed that the antiquarianism left important heritage to modern historiography. Although antiquarianism’s lineage could be traced from the Hellenistic erudition, it had, however, developed five important characteristics. They were: emphasis on literary texts, traditions, monuments, biographies and chronology. What was the importance? Gibbon’s formidable footnotes and Mommsen’s fame were the happy results of these five characteristics.

Personally, Momigliano equated the antiquarians’ five characteristics as conservative empiricism. They were held as virtues as Momigliano noted approvingly their ‘brand of skepticism tolerated claims to certainty only if they were based on proper documentation.’ Historical interpretations must be based on solid empirical documentation. It should not be based on some airy Romantics’ notion of intuition and feeling, which could be turned into something demonic such as race purity under totalitarian regimes.

In the light of Momigliano’s terrible loss under fascism, one begins to comprehend his strong faith in the antiquarians. He grew to distrust those "grand schemes of historical interpretations" that had no grounding in the antiquarians’ methodology. During the war years, Momigliano witnessed the tragic departure from reason in some important German scholars. He especially loathed those Nazi classicists who preached "racial science." After the war, two things needed to be done. One, it was clear that such abuses must not be forgotten. Two, future historical studies must be firmly grounded in the methodologies bequeathed by the antiquarians. Hence, Momigliano saw his studies as a personal mission towards that objective.

The early ecclesiastic historians too contributed to modern historiography. They had their limitations, especially vis-à-vis factual accuracy. This could not be denied, but they could not be written off just like that. These historians conscientiously interlaced documents and quotations into their writings. They had an overriding concern for precedent and tradition, as they feared being challenged. These twin concerns motivated early ecclesiastic historians to give clear documentation.

Ironically, proper documentation is one of the foundations of modern historiography. Momigliano found in Eusebius’s Ecclesiastical History the example of proper documentation. This was Eusebius’s greatest contribution to modern history. Eusebius’s contribution was continued by the Counter-Reformation historians. Again these latter historians were not interested in proper documentation per se. They were busy refuting their Protestants counterparts. However, through their ecclesiastic concerns they unwittingly advanced this need for proper documentation. Again Momigliano was in his element. Nothing so pleased him as those discoveries that overturned comfortable presuppositions. His beloved ancients did have important contributions for modern historiography.

III

The last area of interest to a reader must be Momigliano’s historical style. It was mentioned earlier that his preferred prose in English was the short essay. Sardonic English wit peppered this book. Three such examples will surely enter into posterity so craved by Thucydides.

While sly wit makes the reading enjoyable, Momigliano’s style is almost contemporary. In his chapter on Tacitus, Momigliano pointed out that Tacitus’ legacy, in terms of style of writing, lay in his ability to incorporate narrative experiments in his account. For instance, Tacitus’ Agricola was a ‘…biography with a ethnographic-historical background…’ Whether this insight was intentionally singled out is beside the point. Momigliano’s book itself displays such qualities. For lack of a better term, Momigliano’s chapter three ( The Rise of Antiquarian Research) and chapter six ( The origins of Ecclesiastical Historiography) read like a mystery novel. Momigliano’s erudition was sophisticated enough for him to use obscure facts in the manner of anecdotes. Both the story of de Peiresc’s dissection of Angora cats and Benedetto Bacchini’s fumbling in the dusty Ducal Library served to illustrated a larger point in their respective chapters, namely ‘Galilean method of observation’ and the conflict between the primacy of documentary evidence versus doctrinal evidence.

Problems

An old general once commented ‘Don’t you think you are going to conceal faults by concealing evidence that they ever existed.’A review of Momigliano’s book certainly does not attempt to conceal faults because it will be contrary to the beliefs of that die-hard liberal. A scan of the available book reviews indicated that most of the problems stemmed from the book’s ambitious title. Peter Green found that the book conveyed ‘a sense of expectations unfulfilled’. This opinion was shared by Ernest Breisach who ‘finds the conclusion disappointing.’ Momigliano’s student Anthony Grafton respectfully admitted that ‘the book has its limitations’. Paul Cartledge ventured to suggest that the very limitations of the book precluded the book’s publication in the 70s or as Green succinctly put it ‘… their inadequacy [might be erroneously seen] as a summation of his credo…’

Out of all the reviews, Ernest Breisach provided the most comprehensive critique on Momigliano’s book. Breisach perceived the problem from the point where Momigliano discussed the dualism between Thucydidean and Herodotean. He saw this dualism running throughout the book. In places such as the relevance of Herodotean traits for antiquarianism, Briesasch found it difficult to accept such a strait jacket theme. Obviously, structuralism was not evident throughout Herodotus’s account of the Persian Wars. He believed that such dualism could not be used as a distinction ‘between right of wrong historiography.’ But it is curious that Breisach should see dualism in that way. What ever implications Momigliano’s book had, it might have pointed towards dualism as a central theme, however, nowhere in the book was it implied that Herodotus was right and Thucydides was wrong or vice versa. Furthermore, Breisach found it difficult to digest the implications of the dualism theme on "Tacitism." One does not blame him simply because Momigliano did not intend that every chapter be strictly based on dualism. Rather when one reads the introduction and the conclusion closely, each chapter seems to be a question by itself. Breisach’s resourceful intuitive reading seemed somewhat over-stretched.

The next two problems Breisach saw as important was the excessive flexibility that Momigliano stretched the terms ‘nation’ and ‘modern’. Momigliano’s personal tragic experience colored his perception was rightly highlighted by Breisach. The phrase, ‘expression of national consciousness…the creation…itself, such as we understand it’ clearly showed Momigliano was a historian of his times. If Breisach used this as evidence, all would be well, but he sought to bring in the fact about Persian history from Momigliano’s chapter one into chapter four. At the risk of quoting out of context, Breisach claimed that the lack of annalistic tradition hardly explained the lack of nationalistic historians among the Persians. Again one finds it difficult to prove that Momigliano ever made such a claim. One could only surmise that Breisach assumed that Momigliano would think that way. In any case the Annals of the Pontiffs which Fabius referred to (not the Cicero’s version), seemed to be highly similar in spirit with the Persian Chronicles. When a comparison is made from the pages that describe Persian Chronicles and Roman Annals, one is hard pressed not to conclude that both are factual, do not deal with miracles and both are not theological. Who says that the Persians lacked annals, they had plenty of Chronicles.

Breisach further saw Momigliano’s section on Tacitus did not fulfilled that claim on modernity. He wrote "…Momigliano’s argument indicates a break in ‘modernity’ that implies a different status for the period since then. That is quite troublesome for his promise in the title." It is true that ‘The dispute about Tacitus has definitely passed to another stage.’ But that hardly qualified the assumption that there was a break in modernity. Marxism has witness many stages both in practical usage and in interpretations, but that does not deny it a place in modernity. Momigliano pointed out that Tacitus’ relevance in modern age might be that way it illustrated the ‘psychology of tyranny.’ This alone guarantees posterity for Tacitus, let alone modernity.

The other concern suggested by Green and Cartledge was about Momigliano’s reluctance to publish his work. This is especially extraordinary since Momigliano once boasted harmlessly that all his writings deserved publications. Cartledge gave a good reason; Momigliano was too much of a perfectionist who was reluctant to bequest to the world his summation of his classical erudition with just 150 pages. Thus the work was not deficient in any real sense but just not good enough for his ‘credo’.

Conclusion

For a layman, the above limitations seem largely academic or worse hairsplitting. Such shortcomings were actually in terms of differences in weight of interpretations rather than deficiency in Momigliano’s erudition. Grafton rightly saw the book’s limitations in terms of the lack of interest in ‘rediscovery of ancient methods in the exact sciences’ and the absence of reiteration of Momigliano’s scholarship in social history which he had covered elsewhere. Even Breisach grudgingly conceded that he had ‘pure admiration for the book’s splendid scholarship and its delightful way of presentation.’

Therefore, it would not be far-fetch to conclude that most limitations are just ‘small weakness.’ Especially when one compares it to his mastery of concrete facts, clear style of contemporary writing and scholarly insights. The practical advantage of this book is that it offers in one volume ‘one of the best possible starting points for students… on a voyage of discovery… to the furthest reaches of the tradition of European Humanism.’

Bibliography

Books

Carr, E. H. What is History. 2^nd ed. Houndmills: Macmillian Press, 1986.

Momigliano, Arnaldo. The Classical Foundations of Modern Historiography. Berkley: University of California Press, 1990.

Articles

Breisach, Ernst. ‘Reflections on Arnaldo Momigliano’s The Classical Foundations of Modern Historiography.’ Clio. 23:1 (1993), pp. 81-91.

Cartledge,Paul. ‘Book review.’ The Journal of Hellenic Studies. 112 (1992), pp. 193-194.

Grafton, Anthony. ‘The Man who saved History.’ The New Republic. August 19 & 26 (1991), pp. 36 - 41.

_______ ‘Arnaldo Momigliano: A Pupil’s notes.’ The American Scholar. (Spring 1991), pp.235- 241.

Green, Peter. ‘Tracking down wisdom: Arnaldo Momigliano‘s religion of scholarship.’ The Times Literary Supplement. July19 (1991), pp. 3-4.

Konstan, David. ‘Review Essay.’ History and Theory. 31:2 (1992), pp.224-230.

The Dictionary of Historians. ‘Arnaldo Momigliano’ by T. J. Cornell. pp. 283-284.