“To learn to live with pandemics and their deadly realities, we must all become historians,
and sound the depths in search of the embedded echoes of pandemics past.”
That’s a quote from Colin Elliott, who is (surprise!) a historian. Today we look at his new book about what could be considered the first pandemic.
In the engraving below, we see the Angel of Death making a house call during the plague that swept through the Roman Empire in the second century. And while the Angel depicted below is a more appealing image than the Grim Reaper, if you look closely you’ll see people dying in the streets and that turns out to be sadly accurate. But, if you’re like me, that thought merely brings back memories from our own plague and the refrigerated trucks parked outside hospitals. Progress, but…
So let’s take a look at that Roman pandemic and see what other comparisons we might encounter.
What got me thinking about the plague of the Roman Empire, called the Antonine Plague, is a new book from History professor Colin Elliott, who puts out the engaging podcast “Pax Romana” and calls the book Pox Romana, telling the story of the first pandemic. The book is from the Princeton University Press’ series “Turning Points in Ancient History” — so, if it’s a “turning point,” the first thing we want to know is when and where the turn started.
Patient Zero. It’s a natural human desire to want to figure out origins, especially where things went wrong, which is to say, deciding who to blame. That urge goes all the way back to deciding how evil got into the world: blame Eve and that snake, or maybe Pandora and that box. In modern times, with Covid, we could point to sloppy work at a lab or maybe something as icky as a wet market.
In the second century, they came up with a more colorful origin story. First, let’s set the scene. It’s 165 A.D. and we are long into the Pax Romana, nearly 200 years of the “golden age” of Rome. The Roman army had just broken through the army of the Persians and marched into the city of Seleucia (named for one of Alexander the Great’s generals). The city surrendered, opening its gates and hoping for mercy; but, no, the Romans did all the awful things armies can do. As our author, Colin Elliott put it, “Rome’s military machine, as many times before, reversed centuries of civilization in a matter of days.” This barbarity included looting a shrine to the god Apollo. We’re reminded that Apollo is the god who, in Homer’s Iliad, inflicts a plague upon an army because its commander stole the daughter of one of his priests. So, while Apollo’s god thing was as the “averter of evil,” he was also the “bringer of pestilence.” Roman soldiers, looting his shrine, smashed statuary and pottery, including the jar that held the plague. Oh, you don’t wanna tug on Superman’s cape, pull the mask off the Lone Ranger, and you certainly don’t wanna mess with Apollo, Bringer of Pestilence.
Naturally, historians don’t want to credit Apollo for the pandemic, and Colin Elliott even questions the notion of the plague starting in Seleucia. Then again, our author questions just about everything in the story of the Antonine Plague – where it originated, how many it killed, and even what sort of virus it was. What we can say is this: early histories placed the outbreak in Seleucia; however, it may have been brought in by the Roman troops as they assembled from various parts of the empire. Either way, it surely went out with the army as it moved back to Rome and other parts of the Empire. All roads lead to Rome… and out.
What was it? The conventional wisdom, based on reports of symptoms, is that the Antonine Plague was smallpox. Elliott insists that this isn’t the case, arguing that smallpox as we know it didn’t exist till hundreds of years later. Then, after putting considerable animation into the argument against smallpox, he tells us that researchers recently (2020) found evidence of Viking Age smallpox, now known as “ancient smallpox,” and thus believes that the “mystery” might soon be solved. So, this reader is left going with the plague being… wait for it… smallpox.
Why is it called the “Antonine Plague”? When I was going on one evening about my reading of Pox Romana, my wife asked me why it was called the Antonine Plague. I realized I didn’t know the answer. I didn’t see an explanation in the book and it took four online sources till finally, the World History Encyclopedia site explained that it was named for the co-ruler at the time, Marcus Aurelius. That only made sense when the source explained that the Aurelius’ family name was Antoninus. (Perhaps this is so obvious to historians that most didn’t lower themselves to explaining how the plague got its name.)
How bad was it? Bad. Elliott describes what it must have been like when plague hit Rome and “heaps of bodies overwhelmed the city.” From accounts of various plagues, he pieces together this vision: “The sight of rotting corpses in the streets, the dogs and rats fighting over the macabre morsels, the unrelenting rancid stench, the pustular flesh and fluids being crushed into the grime of the city streets – it would have been unendurable.” Beyond bodies in the streets, it seems that relatives of victims sneaked corpses into tombs of other families or stuffed bodies into catacombs.
THE FIRST SUPERSPREADER EVENT. Deaths in Rome began to mount shortly after what can be called the first “superspreader” event. On October 12, in the year 166, tens of thousands turned out to celebrate the military victories against Persia, including a parade. Then, “even as the festivities wound down,” the “heaps of bodies” appeared.
The mortality rate for the plague has since been put at as low as 1% and as high as 35%, with total fatality projected from fewer than a million to 10-20 million. Elliott puts the “worst case” mortality at 30% (similar to rates for modern smallpox) and thus concludes that 1-2 million people would have died (not counting some deaths in the rural areas which were mostly spared). That’s out of an urban and military population of 10-15 million, so a major shock.
What did it do to society, including the economy? As we all remember from Covid, a pandemic changes how society functions, or, in some cases, stops functioning. And while we moderns experienced disruptions like toilet paper shortages, things were much worse in the Roman Empire, especially for early Christians. A surprising twist in the story of economic consequences begins with a shortage of slaves. Not only did slaves die in the plague, but the pandemic stopped the supply chain, that is, the military campaigns whereby slaves were captured and brought to market. Thus, the cost of slaves increased, which then hit, of all things, the market for gladiators. Public officials were expected to provide “public spectacles,” and with a shortage of the gladiators rented from their owners to perform, prices were bid up so high that the government implemented a price ceiling for booking fees. This, of course, made the shortage worse. The solution? Public execution of criminals. Elliott describes what transpired:
“No gladiators available? Buy a few criminals, then design elaborate, torturous, and gruesome modes of death for mass entertainment: a bloody spectacle for the whole family! All that was needed was an abundant supply of the condemned. And it just so happened that a growing movement of dangerous religious extremists was practically volunteering for execution at the time of the Antonine Plague: Christians.”
By failing to believe in the old gods, like Apollo, Christians were those “extremists” who were handy scapegoats. Any Christian who refused to recant was condemned to be sold on the cheap to spectacle organizers.
On the other hand, Christians were among the few who nursed the sick, and that led to two important advantages over time: a reputation for compassion, and higher levels of immunity when the plague came back.
Should you read the book? Sure. Colin Elliott is an engaging writer, as you can tell from the passages quoted above. The reader does bog down a bit with the author’s shilly-shallying as to conclusions – the book sometimes has that cautious feel of an academic covering himself (including 56 pages of Notes and Bibliography). Still, it’s an absorbing read, especially when it calls up memories from our recent experiences, warming you with gratitude for how far our science and public health have evolved.
STATS OF THE MONTH
HOME ALONE AGAIN – But not the movie!
By Bill Davenhall, Geospatial Advocate
In the United States, one-person households have continued to increase every decade since 1980. While that might not be a surprise to most observers, some startling mini-trends lurk inside, ones that could have a considerable impact on how immunization professionals plan and deliver immunization services.
As the graph below illustrates, in 1940, more than eight decades ago, only about 8% of all households contained one person – today, it’s 38%, more than 81 million persons in one-person households.
There are 1,464 counties (47%) with one-person household rates above the national average reported by the US Census Bureau in 2020. Immunization programs that desire to address these pockets of potential “immunization islands” should be prepared to understand their differences and growth in recent years. These population segments might remain elusive to local immunization efforts and eventually impact national immunization rates.
One-person households, especially young adults and seniors, will very likely have different lifestyles and interests than those in larger households, and live in very different geographical locations, such as rural or densely urban locations. Each segment will have reasons for seeking or avoiding immunization, such as lack of transportation or supportive family members.
Reaching various population segments effectively will take thoughtful research with census data on the populations you intend to serve. You can find a list of all US counties with counts and estimates of the population living in one-person households.
By 2029, we can expect to add another 4.3 million one-person households to the national household inventory. Call it just another rerun movie?
As always, I appreciate 2nd opinions.
0 Comments
Leave A Comment