The Trial of the Scipios
Must We Hold Even Our Greatest Heroes Accountable?

Dreamed by Rabbi Ben Scolnic
Introduced & edited by Altay Coskun

Bust believed to be of Scipio Africanus the Elder, found near the Tombs of the Scipios.

Who has not heard of the spectacular campaigns of Hannibal in Spain (221-219 BCE) and Italy (218-203 BCE)? Or of the conquests of the most famous offspring of Seleukos I Nikator, Antiochos III the ‘Great’: the trail of his victories leads us from Media over Syria to Lydia, then back East as far as Baktria, before returning West again, where he gained the southern Levant and forced the Ptolemaic king of Egypt into an alliance, while also recovering Asia Minor, before eventually crossing over to Greece (222-192 BCE).

We would remember both of them as equals of Alexander the Great – had not one man defeated them both, Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus: he uprooted Carthaginian rule in Spain (211-206 BCE), conquered Hannibal at Zama in Africa (202 BCE), and guided his younger brother Lucius Cornelius Scipio Asiaticus to victory over Antiochos at Magnesia in Asia (190 BCE). Would anyone bother to study Roman History today, instead of the empires of the Carthaginians and Seleukids, were it not for Scipio?

Even in his time, no one could measure up to him. The kings around the Mediterranean world treated him as their equal, if not as their patron. The Roman people adored him as their savior. And the Roman senators? They praised, envied, feared, celebrated, hated, and frustrated him. They had a hard time to accept that he left even the most noble members of the Senate behind in prestige and self-esteem. To be clear, he was no Sulla, Caesar, or Pompey: it would never have crossed his mind to respond to political opposition or personal disparagement by leading his soldiers into the city. No, far from that.

But when he and his brother were scrutinized (187 BCE), he was defiant, even outraged that they should account for a deficit that was 3.3% the tribute they made Antiochos pay, most of which made our brave soldiers rich and filled our public treasury to the brim. Scipio was utterly indignant and refused to clarify – or rectify – his deeds. He rather withdrew to his country estate, where later he passed away alone and ingloriously in kind of an exile (around 183 BCE).

Every time I come across his fate, I start musing over the aging hero, trying to understand how the majority of the Romans felt about his disgrace: was it deserved? Was it proportionate? Was the motivation of his opponents – most of all the famously stern Cato (the Elder) – sound, or were they rather driven by jealousy and ambition?

This summer, I involved my friend Ben into a long discussion about Scipio. We both acknowledged the tragedy of Scipio’s life, but Ben repeatedly asked me, when I was showing more sympathy for Scipio, if it was right for anyone to be above the law. Our conversation was so intense that Ben could not stop thinking about it. Even when he went to bed that night, he was trying to imagine how various Romans might have felt differently about that case. He fell asleep only very late, but Scipio was still on his mind and when he woke up (or did he not?) he was wearing a tunic, walking in sandals, and was called Marcus …