Andrew Kenrick
Gladiator II opens with a Roman fleet brutally laying siege to a city in the north African kingdom of Numidia. On the big screen we see ships set ablaze by pots of burning oil and defenders impaled by man-sized iron bolts. The so-called barbarian inhabitants are eventually enslaved and carted off back to Rome.
Upon his victory, General Acacius (Pedro Pascal) declares “I claim this city for the glory of Rome, Numidia is no more.” But, historically, by AD200 Numidia had been a thoroughly integrated part of the Roman empire for over 250 years. First as part of the province of Africa Nova, and later as a province in its own right.
The twin emperors depicted in the film, Caracalla and Geta (Fred Hechinger and Joseph Quinn), were themselves of north African descent.
Numidia was once a vast kingdom, stretching from the east of modern-day Morocco into Algeria, Tunisia and the west of Libya. The first king to unite Numidia was the Berber chieftain Massinissa (circa 238-148BC), who lived until the age of 90 and was said to have fathered 46 sons.
He allied himself with the Roman general Scipio Africanus against Hannibal during the second Punic war. Massinissa was instrumental in the ultimate destruction of Carthage at the hands of the Roman Republic.
Afterwards, he began to Hellenise the kingdom, building in the style of Greece, commissioning Greek-style sculptures and artworks and generally engaging with the wider Greek world.
So great is Massinissa’s legacy that his tomb stands on a windy hilltop overlooking the city of Constantine – his former capital of Cirta – in eastern Algeria. He also appears on the 500 dinar note.
Massinissa’s descendants ruled Numidia until 46BC, when his great-great-grandson Juba I found himself on the wrong side of the Roman civil war – allied to Pompey against Julius Caesar.
Upon his defeat, Juba committed suicide, leaving his kingdom to be annexed by Rome to form the province of Africa Nova. His son Juba II was taken captive.
His son was something of a success story for Roman multiculturalism. He was raised as part of the imperial household in Rome before returning to rule the north African kingdom of Mauretania, which he rebuilt in Rome’s image, theatres, baths and all.
He was succeeded by his own son, Ptolemy of Mauretania, who met a thoroughly Roman end of his own. He was executed for treason by his cousin, the emperor Caligula. The site of his execution was the Amphitheatre of the Three Gauls in Lugdunum, modern-day Lyon – a scene that wouldn’t look out of place in Gladiator II.
Algeria, Morocco and Tunisia remain home to some of the best-preserved Roman ruins anywhere in the world. The wealth and importance of the province – sometimes described as the bread basket of the empire – is apparent in the richness of the artefacts found at sites such as Constantine, Timgad and Hippo Regius, as well as extraordinarily beautiful mosaics.
Some of this archaeological treasure can be found in the museums of Europe (a legacy of colonialism) but much more remains in the region itself.
North Africa was integrated not just into the economy of Rome, but also the politics of the empire.
The emperor Septimius Severus (father of Caracalla and Geta) was born in Leptis Magna in modern-day Libya. His wife, the fearsome matriarch Julia Domna, was Syrian, speaking to the hugely varied ethnic makeup of the empire by the 3rd century AD.
The producers of Gladiator II neatly dodge any question of ethnicity by having both Quinn and Hechinger plastered in white makeup throughout the film. Contemporary paintings that depicted the imperial family had no compunction showing Severus with dark skin.
Caracalla’s brief successor Macrinus – camply played in Gladiator II by Denzel Washington – was also north African. He was born in Caesarea, modern-day Cherchell, in Algeria. But rather than being an ex-slave, as the film suggests, he was a member of the Roman ruling classes. This again speaks to how thoroughly integrated the north African provinces were with the Roman empire.
None of this is to say that Roman north Africa was a peaceful place, as a series of uprisings and revolts by Berber tribesmen throughout the first century AD shows.
Most famous of these was Tacfarinas’ revolt. It embroiled huge swathes of north Africa in a decades-long guerrilla war. Tacfarinas rose to be the chieftain of a tribe called the Musulamians, but before his revolutionary turn he had served as an auxiliary in the Roman army on the Rhine frontier.
There he learned the legion’s tactics. His insurgency continued for the best part of a decade, raiding towns and fortresses with impunity before retreating into the mountains and desert. Multiple legions and generals attempted to bring him down before Tacfarinas was eventually caught by the Roman commander Cornelius Dolabella and his uprising ended.
While it is easy to poke holes in the historical accuracy of Gladiator II, there is no denying the spectacle and thrill of the movie. But, as always, history itself is even more thrilling and intriguing than a Hollywood epic.
Kenrick is visiting Research Fellow, School of Literature, Drama and Creative Writing, University of East Anglia.