As a tutor, I encountered challenges while teaching the Roman law of slavery, as resistance to the subject from students became increasingly evident. Many perceived it as an irrelevant discipline, likening it to minor courtly details. Why should anyone care about the jurists’ discussions on debt recovery linked to a master’s slave when slavery itself is fundamentally a moral scandal? This perspective echoes the absurdity of listening to a servant complain about a ruler’s attire while the ruler stands unclothed. However, such an interpretation overlooks the depth and sophistication with which jurists approached the institution of slavery, offering insights into the Romans’ moral framework and how it diverges from contemporary ethics. By examining this ancient system, we uncover how a society of slaves endeavored to mimic free societal institutions and how it reacted to evolving economic and social dynamics. A lack of seriousness in understanding historical contexts complicates our grasp of our own values, particularly around the concept of liberty.

Revisiting the Past

Samuel Goldman aptly remarks that when contemplating liberty’s future, we inevitably reflect on its historical roots. The insights provided by Roman jurists challenge simplified narratives about our historical self-perception. For example, the advanced market practices of Ancient Rome, coupled with the educational achievements of numerous urban slaves, prompt a re-evaluation of overly optimistic liberal interpretations that equate economic freedom with civil liberties.

Furthermore, it’s vital to recognize that history operates independently of current ideologies and should be examined on its terms. Failing to do so limits our imaginative engagement with the past. I recall using representations such as mosaics or frescoes depicting dark-skinned Romans engaged in commerce with light-skinned slaves. Interestingly, slaves with red hair commanded a premium, as Romans held a preference for redheads over blondes.

Students’ disdain often intermingled with the need to dismantle preconceptions rooted in the American interpretation of slavery. Ancient Romans did not view their slaves as morally inferior or lesser beings. Instead, servitude was a legal status—transformable, often into citizenship. Every Roman jurist recognized slavery as “contrary to nature,” suggesting it was an institution born when humans established governments and laws. The philosophical belief that some were “natural slaves” was primarily an argument posed by Aristotle, not a Roman conviction.

While some argue that the ethos of natural rights has Roman origins, such beliefs misallocate history. The Romans had a legal framework steeped in positivism, influenced more by Greek thought than their own. This point supports Goldman’s assertion that simply tying in “Athens and Jerusalem” neglects the broader historical fabric. Evidence shows that the remnants of Roman law most prominently limited consanguinity. Throughout history, there has been a gradual movement in Europe away from blood kinship towards broader social affiliations. The Corpus Iuris Civilis languished in collections long after Rome’s western empire’s demise, influencing European thought through legal lenses, notably during the Scottish Enlightenment. When Adam Smith critiques primogeniture, he leans heavily on Roman legal principles, acknowledging their enduring impact.

Within the political imagination of ancient Rome, it was entirely possible to experience personal freedom (libertas) while still being subject to others’ authority within the familia.

A Complex Social Hierarchy

Roman slaves exhibited a diversity of skills; a literate Greek tutor would invariably hold more value than an uneducated Briton. Similar variations existed among Roman citizens. The Christian belief in equality under God set the stage for moral distinctions against earlier pagan norms, where beauty, intelligence, and bravery defined worth. To the Romans, possessing Roman citizenship conferred inherent status; however, many who were not citizens were still born into roles of servitude.

A telling example from Roman legal literature is Ulpian’s commentary on property damage: a slave, like any owned property, warranted a compensation valuation. If an owner lost a slave he fathered, Ulpian asserted compensation could not exceed market value, underscoring a legal principle that mitigated subjective sentiments. This adherence to treating similar cases uniformly was unique in its sophistication for the time, reflecting a moral order different from modern sensibilities.

The Importance of Understanding Other Moral Frameworks

The relevance of exploring varied moral systems persists today. A significant divide in current political thought stems from differing interpretations of freedom: the liberal view typically presents a negative conception, as articulated by Berlin, while the republican stance emphasizes non-domination, akin to a refined version of positive liberty. Republican notions often entail a greater claim to resources. Despite claims of grounding their theories in ancient concepts, both groups historically oversimplify these historical influences. For the ancients, libertas constituted just one aspect of an individual’s social standing. It indicated freedom from servitude and recognition as a person. The other aspects were civitas and familia, informing public and private statuses respectively.

Civitas held implications for an individual’s public identity, denoting citizenship and associated rights. Roman citizenship conferred various privileges, which some contend formed a primitive welfare structure aimed exclusively at citizens. Meanwhile, familia established a private framework of domination, dictating individual autonomy concerning superiors. Notably, the ancient conception of familia diverges from today’s nuclear family, encompassing complex relationships akin to corporate entities. While Christianity did offer a boost in societal standing for women, Roman citizen women maintained an elevated status that wasn’t uniformly replicated in later societies.

Ultimately, in ancient political thought, individuals could embody personal freedom while remaining subject to others within the familia’s confines. A free destitute person could coexist with a wealthy slave. Significant societal and sexual liberties could coexist without political freedom. Enlightenment thinkers recognized this complexity; like Goldman, they acknowledged liberty’s plural and relational qualities, emphasizing libertas as the most pressing issue of their time.

Implications for Contemporary Discourse

Today, we grapple with the legacy of civitas in discussions surrounding immigration and cultural identity. Do civil privileges or citizenship rights become contingent upon the behaviors of immigrants? Countries are replicating ancient Roman distinctions between citizenry and non-citizens, often forsaking universal personhood, as illustrated by modern Australia’s policies.

Simultaneously, the emergence of corporate structures and managerial governance rekindles debates reminiscent of ancient familia dynamics: membership implications, autonomy trade-offs, and rights and duties delineation. Dismissal of employees for personal beliefs tackles the issue of familia more than libertas or civitas. Correlatively, a critical examination is warranted concerning corporate appeals to familial sentiment—reminding us, as my father said, “this only works when the family is happy; for everything else, you need law.”

If we limit our view of Roman slavery to a mere moral error, mistakenly aligning it with the antebellum South, we forego a comprehensive understanding of modern liberties. The Roman legacy invites us to confront our assumptions about freedom and morality while articulating the nuanced dynamics that still resonate in contemporary society.