The debate over who will represent the will of the people in a democracy can be traced back to the origins of democratic government itself, and the concept of limiting terms has been an important part of that debate. Thomas Jefferson,  a man whose political ideals helped shape our country, argued that term limits “prevent every danger which might arise to American freedom by continuing too long in office.”¹ Indeed, the founders and framers of our country felt that term limits were such a necessary limitation to public office that they included them in the Articles of Confederation, and felt that their omission from the Constitution was “most highly and dangerously oligarchic.”² The debate over term limits continues to this day and, in a number of states, these limits have been successfully implemented. Of course, considerable work remains before legislative term limits are implemented widely across the country. The arguments for and against term limits are numerous, yet ultimately the issue boils down to the ideal to which we wish to hold our government: do we want our fellow common citizens to represent us as opposed to entrenched, elite oligarchs? Do we want a government conducted by legislators more invested in the wellbeing of their constituents and districts than in their own career or moneyed interests? If so, then limiting the tenure of our legislators is the right choice; like the commonly used saying goes, tenure corrupts, indefinite tenure corrupts absolutely.

Though term limits are hardly a recent phenomena, the movement for them has appeared in more recent times. In the late 1980s, a growing movement of reformers sought to institute term limits across the country in state legislatures, pushed largely by the growing rate of incumbency found in state legislatures. In the 1960s and 1970s, the average state legislature experienced the turnover of 1/3rd of its members every two years. During the 1980s, this turnover declined considerably, so that by 1988 the average turnover had fallen to only 16 percent of state legislatures³. In that decade, over 99 percent of unindicted congressional and state legislative incumbents won their re-election⁴. The term-limit movement saw successes beginning in the early 1990s, when Colorado, California, and Oklahoma instituted limitations on their legislators. Seventeen states have since followed: Arizona, Arkansas, Florida, Idaho, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, Michigan, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, Ohio, Oregon, South Dakota, Washington, and Wyoming.

Legislative term limits can presently be found in 15 states. In all, 21 states have passed term limits for legislators, though in Idaho, Massachusetts, Oregon, Utah, Washington, and Wyoming, those limits have either been repealed by the legislature or ruled unconstitutional in court. The specific limitations these term limits enforce on legislatures vary from state to state, with some significantly more restrictive than others. Legislative term limits in 9 states are consecutive; once a state legislator has served the maximum number of terms in office, they can run for office in the state’s other legislative chamber. After a defined period of time, that legislator may again run for office in the chamber they were termed-out. In 6 states the limits are lifetime; once a legislator has served the maximum allowable number of terms in a legislative chamber, they may never again run or hold office in that chamber. ⁵

The arguments for term limits are numerous, and can be equally applied to offices ranging from the local to the national level. They are mostly framed around a major complaint about our modern money-infused, partisan, ‘elite’ political system: politics has become a career, and our politicians are now more concerned about pursuing their own career interests than the needs and interests of those they are supposed to represent. Indeed, the Wisconsin Policy Research Institute, in a study of Wisconsin citizens in 2009, found that only 10% of individuals polled said they thought state elected officials represent the interests of voters. By contrast, 85% said that elected officials only care of “their own interests” or “special interests.”⁶ This sentiment is widespread across the country; in the 23 states where attempts to enact term limits have taken place, 21 of these attempts succeeded. More than 60 statewide votes on term limits have occurred between 1990 and 2004, and they have mostly resulted in an overwhelming ‘yes’ vote with wide margins of victory. ⁷ If anything, this voter support has demonstrated that citizens recognize the issues that come with unlimited tenure in office, and are seeking change.

One of the strongest arguments for term limits is how they impact the influence of incumbency and money in politics. ⁸ In the modern American political arena, money is a major factor determining who will win an election. Incumbents have the benefit of the profits they made while in power, as well as the backing of their party, contributing organizations, and special interests, to help get them reelected. Due to this, most middle-class Americans, who better understand the problems facing the average citizen, are highly unlikely to win against a wealthy incumbent. By instituting term limits, the profitable relationships between long-seated members of the legislature and special interest groups will be less influential when determining elections and, when legislators are limited out of office, the less qualified, less wealthy candidates will be given a real opportunity to win elections. Incumbent victory is further reinforced by a number of other factors benefiting incumbents. When candidates first win, the reputation they gain as a “winner” is something they can trade on in future elections. The name recognition incumbents gain merely by representing their constituents for the first two or four years is also helpful. When incumbents run for reelection, they will be free to do all of the campaigning they want while collecting a state paycheck and benefits; this is a benefit which is not afforded to the competitor, who very often must quit their job in order to run. ⁹ Again, by instituting term limits, these factors which contribute to the enormous retention rate of incumbents and which make it hard for common citizens to run will be negligible, because many incumbents will be forced out of office.

Another powerful argument in favor of term limits is the way limits impact the nature of legislation coming out of the legislature. Politicians in a system where terms are unlimited are always concerned about their reelection, they will produce and vote on legislation which will improve their reelection chances. This has a number of serious consequences. Legislators will avoid making risky political decisions or take unpopular, but correct, positions because they are worried about losing votes. As a result, they are more focused on procuring pork for their district and making politically-convenient short term decisions than they are about making the tough, unpopular, long-term decisions which are ultimately more important for the well being of the state. ¹⁰ Without an election looming over them, legislators would be able to make these tough, politically-unpopular choices. Furthermore, the pressure of reelection contributes to paralyzing partisanship, resulting in legislative gridlock. As the American body politic continues to become more partisan, the legislators in office must ‘fall in line’ in order to secure votes and thus reelection; with term limits instituted, legislators would be able to vote more on principle than on the party platform¹¹, thereby providing legislation which makes a more positive difference for their state and which reduces the gridlock in their legislature.

A central issue which term limits hope to fix is that citizen legislators have disappeared in modern American politics. Members of our legislatures have converted the privilege of representing the American people into a lifelong profession. This professionalization of politics is incompatible with the essence of good representative government. The culture of professionalism disconnects and distances the professional politician from those whom they intend to serve; by its very nature, professionalism entails a set of role relationships between experts and clients in which the professional is an expert who offers knowledge and judgment to clients. Representative government, however, should be characterized by the close connection that must exist between the representative and the represented and aspires to minimize, rather than expand, the distance between the two. Simply put, professional politicians, who have spent careers in a ‘culture of ruling’ and who have become disconnected from the daily lives and struggles of the average American, do not understand the plight, the concerns, the needs, and the wants of their constituents. If term limits are instituted and these career politicians are forced out of office, the possibility for ‘average American’ citizen legislators to join the ranks of the legislature increases, and with it will increase the amount of sensible, responsible policy which resonates strongly with the common American.

The opponents of term limits often raise a number of concerns about how limits will detrimentally affect democracy and the operations of the legislature. These arguments serve to draw the discussion about term limits away from the ideals which limits seek to institute, and rather focuses it on possible difficulties which term limits might cause. Yet these opposing arguments fall short for a number of reasons. Though term limits might detrimentally affect some operations in the legislature, there is a possibility for reform which will allow for their use while mitigating possible damage. The other arguments against term limits fail to address the primary reason why limits are so important, which is that legislating has now become a career and as a result is no longer responsive to the average citizen.

Perhaps one of the most commonly used arguments against term limits is that long-term politicians with legislative knowledge will be limited-out of office, and thus the legislature will lose valuable experience. It is true that experience will be lost; this is an unfortunate consequence of limiting people out of office. Yet the notion that this experience alone is what keeps the legislature running is absurd, as is the argument that non-experienced legislatures would be incapable of effectively doing their job. ¹² It is rather the dedication of the legislator to their constituency and their determination to the bettering of their district which produces effective, efficient, and good policy. Problematically, the public continues to elect incumbents because of name recognition rather than a proven track record or a demonstration of experience. There is very likely someone else who is qualified and capable enough to take over the incumbent’s office and do the job just as effectively. This argument against term limits also discounts the reality that, during periods of political sweeps or following major redistricting, many legislators have been voted out of office and replaced with inexperienced newcomers. The legislatures which experienced these changes in office holders did not suffer drastically. ¹³

Another commonly raised issue with term limits is that they are anti-democratic, for people should be allowed to chose whoever they want to hold office. By limiting terms, the argument goes, certain people who the public wants to elect will be prohibited from doing so; this constitutes a violation of the ‘ideals’ of democracy. Yet this argument too has a number of holes. First, the American political system is already constrained by a number of limitations which are, according to this argument, anti-democratic. These include minimum-age requirements, citizenship requirements, and, in the case of the presidency, a two-term limit. If legislative term limits are so egregious a violation of democracy, then its opponents should rally against these limitations, too. Yet even this aside, there is a greater issue with this argument. There exists a particular paradox in the voting habits of the American electorate which demonstrates that this argument has faults. While, as has been demonstrated, the American public overwhelmingly supports limiting the amount of terms legislators can serve, it also reelects incumbents at an overwhelming rate. If anything, this further demonstrates and reinforces the fact that modern American political system is dysfunctional, and heavily favors incumbents. The influence of outside factors contributing to an incumbent’s reelection disrupts and corrupts the democracy which term limits hope to reestablish.

Still, the arguments against term limits which are framed around possible disruptions to legislation efficiency and effectiveness do have merit, and their existence serve as a hamper for the movement to institute legislative term limits. Due to this, and because state legislatures should be as effective and efficient as possible to ensure good public policy, a number of reforms have been developed to mitigate the negative impacts of term limits on the legislature. With these reforms in place, there is no reason why term limits should be opposed; they minimize the damage caused by term limits while keeping the ideals which term limits seek intact. Indeed, in a number of states these reforms have already taken place,  thereby helping ensure that the legislatures of these states are as productive and effective as possible. ¹⁴ In response to the concern about the lack of experience incoming legislators will have, a number of reforms have been suggested and implemented: improve new member orientation and ongoing training programs, offer mentoring programs between experienced and inexperienced legislators, and compile directories of legislative rules and traditions. ¹⁵ Such programs will help new legislators learn the complexities of legislating quickly, so that they become quickly involved in the process. In order to deal with problems with the structure of leadership, which invariably will become weakened if legislative leaders are limited out of office, term-limited legislatures can develop new leadership ladders and patterns of transition, select leaders earlier in the session, prepare prospective leaders, and build leadership relationships with members quickly. ¹⁶ These reforms have been seen to provide some leadership stability for the legislative system, allow prospective leaders to develop skills early before they move into leadership positions, and allows inexperienced legislators to follow the leaders with who they will quickly establish relationships. Term-limited legislatures find the essential responsibility of overseeing the executive branch to be more difficult due to the constant turnover and reduced levels of legislative experience. In order to better control policy, budgets, and the executive branch whilst having term limits, legislatures can offer training on key policy areas and the budget process, improve legislative oversight efforts, increase attention to issues of institutional maintenance by leaders, and consolidate the budget bargaining powers in top legislative leaders. ¹⁷ By instituting these reforms, legislatures which have enacted term-limits can be productive, effective, efficient bodies, and the legislators who are working within a term-limited system will still be able to function the same as legislators who are working in a system without term limits. These reforms demonstrate that the problems which term limits bring are not unsolvable, and thus instituting term limits will not present a grave enough danger to legislative function to make them not worth it.

Instituting term limits on our state legislatures is a smart and necessary reform. Term-limits will bring back the ideal of government which our country espouses, a government of the people, by the people, for the people The professionalization of politics has created a class of politicians who are more concerned about reelection and about special interest money than they are about the constituents they represent. This in turn has created poor, out-of-touch policy and leadership. The opponents of term limits oppose them with various arguments, yet these arguments fail to address this fundamental problem in our political system. The damage they claim term limits will cause to the legislative process can be mitigated by instituting a series of reforms to strengthen the legislature and ensure that its new members are acquainted with legislative procedures. Knowing this, there is no good reason to oppose term limits; indeed, the American public recognizes this, as can be seen by their overwhelming support for such limits. It is time the legislators of our states recognize that the American people want change, and want to take back control of their representative institutions. The right way to do this is through term limits.

Bibliography

1. Thomas Jefferson, The Works of Thomas Jefferson: Correspondence 1771 – 1779 (New York:Cosimo, 2009), 220-221.

2. Mason in Jonathan Eliot, ed., The Debates in the Several State Conventions on Adoption of the Federal Constitution, 5 vols. (Washington D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1836), 485.

3. Albert J. Nelson, Emerging Influentials in State Legislatures (New York: Praeger, 1991), 78-81.

4. Patrick Basham, “Term Limits: A Reform that Works”, Our Generation,             http://ourgeneration.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/term-limits.pdf. Accessed 1 May, 2013.

5. States Legislatures with Term Limits, www.ballotpedia.org/wiki/index.php/State_legislatures_with_term_limits. Accessed 1 May, 2013

6. Christian Schneider, The Case for Term Limits in Wisconsin, WRPI,             http://www.wpri.org/Reports/Volume22/Vol22No6/Vol22No6.html. Accessed 1 May,      2013

7. Jeffiner Bowser, Keon Chi, and Thomas Little, Coping with Term Limits, A Practice Guide, National Conference of State Legislatures, http://www.gongwer.com/public/termlimits.pdf, 19-25. Accessed 1 May 2013

8. Arguments for Term Limits, Restart Congress, http://restartcongress.org/revolution/arguments-for-term-limits. Accessed 1 May 2013

9. Christian Schneider, The Case for Term Limits in Wisconsin, WRPI,             http://www.wpri.org/Reports/Volume22/Vol22No6/Vol22No6.html. Accessed 1 May,      2013

10. John M. Carey, Richard G. Niemi and Lynda W. Powell, The Effects of Term Limits on State Legislatures, Legislative Studies Quarterly , Vol. 23, No. 2 (May, 1998), pp. 271-300. Accessed 1 May, 2013, http://www.jstor.org/stable/440283.

11. Arguments for Term Limits, Restart Congress, http://restartcongress.org/revolution/arguments-for-term-limits. Accessed 1 May 2013

12 Edward H Crane and Roger Pilon, The Politics and Law of Term Limits, (Washington D.C.:    Cato Institute, 1994), 75-90

13. Ibid

14. Jeffiner Bowser, Keon Chi, and Thomas Little, Coping with Term Limits, A Practice Guide,    National Conference of State Legislatures, http://www.gongwer.com/public/termlimits.pdf, 19-25. Accessed 1 May 2013

15. Ibid

16. Ibid

17. ibid

A recurring theme in “Frankenstein” is the pursuit of knowledge and scientific discovery. Indeed, this pursuit is responsible for the main events of the book; in his quest to discover the secrets of creation, Victor Frankenstein designs and builds his monster. “Frankenstein” is thus often interpreted as a warning against the pursuit of knowledge and as a demonstration of its dangers. However, this interpretation is derived from the reflections and recollections of Frankenstein, a man whose creation has devastated and tormented him. His creature tells a different story, recollecting the abuse and negligence he suffers at the hands of his creator and how it prompted his quest for revenge. With this in mind, a different interpretation can be derived from the book: knowledge and science itself isn’t dangerous, but becomes so through its misuse and abuse by society. Thus, Shelley’s warning isn’t about the pursuit of knowledge, but rather about the necessity for scientists and society to be responsible with their creations and discoveries.

“Frankenstein” is a seminal work of science fiction, and its significance towards the genre cannot be understated. Mary Lowe-Evans makes this clear in her “Frankenstein: Mary Shelley’s Wedding Guest” by saying “most modern science fiction courses honor Frankenstein as the original of the genre. Because it demonstrates the uses of a “false front of scientific thinking as a disguise within which unscientific motives drive the plot, Frankenstein neatly fits into the category it originated” (Lowe-Evans 11). The themes within “Frankenstein” and the messages it conveys have thus become an integral part of this genre, and as such play a significant role in defining how authors approach and interpret the subjects of science and knowledge. Yet more than that, “Frankenstein” continues to have a profound influence on the societal perception of science, scientists, and knowledge; it has contributed to a public perception that science and knowledge is dangerous. Paul Northam details this public perception in his “Legacy of Frankenstein: The Monster is the One in the White Lab Coat”, saying that “Most people have a sense of the extraordinary potential of contemporary biological and genetic research, yet they continue to worry about scientists invading – and, perhaps, transforming forever – the body” (Northam 479).  He continues by saying that “journalists… applaud virtually all advances in all the sciences, not just biology; meanwhile, they take significant pains to reassure the public that Frankensteinian consequences are highly unlikely” (Northam 479).  In his “The Moral Character of Mad Scientists” essay, Christopher Toumey further articulates this interpretation of science as dangerous, arguing that “to show the mischief made possible by modern medicine, we have the litany of Dr. Frankenstein… simply stated, these stories are a way of shouting “beware of science!” (Toumey 412). The ramifications of a reading of “Frankenstein” as a warning against science are thus clear; it contributes to a public wariness of science and those who practice it. Yet such fears undermine the enormous possibilities of science. As Northam points out, “no reasonable person can condone the idea of turning our backs on the vast potential of genetic research” such as “effective treatments or cures for illnesses such as genetically implicated cancers” (Northam 480). It is with this in mind that a deeper reading of Shelley’s work is needed, and indeed with that analysis a different interpretation of her message is derived.

It is easy to understand why most readers interpret “Frankenstein” as a warning against science. It is very early in the story that the reader is presented with critiques of science. When talking to Captain Walton early in the book, Frankenstein’s first reaction towards talk about the pursuit of knowledge is telling; he immediately responds in a profoundly negative way. Captain Walton, discussing his voyage of discovery to the North Pole, talks about how “with all the favor that warmed me, how gladly I would sacrifice my fortune, my existence, my every hope, to the furtherance of my enterprise. One man’s life or death were but a small price to pay for the acquirement of the knowledge which I sought” (29). This statement exemplifies the pursuit of knowledge, and parallels can be seen between Walton’s enthusiasm and the enthusiasm of the young Frankenstein towards his own scientific quest; talking later about his early studies, Frankenstein mentions how he “was engaged, heart in soul, in the pursuit of some discoveries which I hoped to make. None but those who have experienced them can conceive of the enticements of science” (51). Upon hearing Walton’s statement, however, a “dark gloom” falls over Frankenstein as he replies, “Unhappy man! Do you share my madness? Have you drunk also of the intoxicating draught?” (29). Frankenstein is referring to this pursuit of knowledge, and in his response the reader can clearly detect his anathema of that pursuit and “madness”. This is further reinforced when Frankenstein compares himself to Walton, saying “You seek for knowledge and wisdom, as I once did; and I ardently hope that the gratification of your wishes may not be a serpent to sting you, as mine has been” (31). He is revealing that his quest for knowledge ultimately caused him harm, and thus the reader can correlate scientific discovery with danger and pain. Before the bulk of the story has even begun, a message of warning is being developed in regards to the dangers of knowledge.

Frankenstein continues by telling Walton to “let me reveal my tale, and you will dash the cup from your lips!”(29); by recollecting his story, Frankenstein hopes that “when I reflect that you are pursuing the same course, exposing yourself to the same dangers which have rendered me what I am, I imagine that you may deduce an apt moral from my tale” (31). These lines are vital to the interpretation of Shelley’s work as a warning against the pursuit of knowledge. Frankenstein is telling Walton that he is exposing himself “to the same dangers which have rendered me what I am”; the reader can interpret this line as an explicit warning against that pursuit of knowledge because the condition which Frankenstein is seen in, one of great illness and distress, is blamed solely on the ‘dangers’ of that pursuit. Yet these lines are even more significant because of the way they set up the narrative; it is a tale told by Frankenstein to Walton with the intention to warn him about his pursuit and thus provide him with an “apt moral from my tale”.

The story is thus not told from the omniscient third-person, but instead as a first-person narrative. As a result, the reader is exposed to the same moralizing tale to which Walton is exposed. It must be remembered that the narrative of “Frankenstein” is designed in the ‘frame narrative’ manner; multiple frames, and thus multiple character’s perspectives, are presented. The top frame is that of Walton writing letters home to his sister, and we are thus immediately privy to Walton’s interpretation of the story’s events. The next frame is Frankenstein’s story, and the reader is provided with his thoughts and feelings regarding his experiences. It is thus easy to understand how “Frankenstein” can be interpreted as a warning against the pursuit of scientific discovery; the bulk of the plot is revealed through Frankenstein’s negative recollection of his act of creation, his creations subsequent murder of his friends and family, and his resulting misery. The third frame is the creature’s tale, and it is in this frame that the different interpretation of Shelley’s message is developed; the reader is presented with a starkly different perspective on Frankenstein’s creation, and thus the inherent evil of scientific discovery, when the narrative shifts from Frankenstein recollecting his own experiences to the creature recounting his.

This new frame allows the reader to experience the creature’s first-person narrative, and thus recognize a different source to the ‘evils’ which Frankenstein has described the creature to have committed. The creature describes his initial experiences, his first sensations and discoveries, and then begins to tell a tale of his interactions with a family of cottagers. It is in these interactions that the moral character of the creature is revealed. He observes the family’s positive interactions with each other with admiration, and laments the sufferings of poverty they experience. In order to alleviate these sufferings, he takes it upon himself to cut wood for the family and stops stealing from their food so “that it might be in my power to restore happiness to these deserving people” (117).  By performing these tasks in order to halt further suffering,  he shows himself to be compassionate and selfless. If he was innately evil and dangerous,  then such actions and feelings would not have been elicited by the family’s suffering. He hopes to reveal himself to the family, saying that “when I contemplated the virtues of the cottagers, their amiable and benevolent dispositions, I persuaded myself that when they should become acquainted with my admiration of their virtues, they would compassionate me and overlook my personal deformity” (133). These lines are incredibly significant; they demonstrate the creature isn’t inherently evil, but rather far from it: he has an inherently benign character. He “admires” the cottagers’ virtues of their “amiable and benevolent dispositions”. The positive reaction to these positive qualities reveals that the creature wishes to associate himself with them. He counts upon the kindness of the family to overlook his personal deformity, and it is here where the Shelley’s true message about science and knowledge begins to be developed.

Upon revealing himself to the family, he is attacked and driven out; a “fatal prejudice clouds their eyes” (136) causing them to mistreat a being who desired only companionship and kindness. The creature becomes miserable because he “admired virtue and good feelings and loved the gentle manners and amiable qualities of my cottagers, but I was shut out from intercourse with them” (123). Again, the benign moral character of the creature is revealed by his admiration and approval of positive traits. Yet the loneliness he experiences results from the unjust rejection of him by humanity; he asks whether there “was none among the myriads of men that existed who would pity or to assist me; and should I feel kindness towards my enemies?” (138). The reader begins to recognize that the injustice and mistreatment he is subject to has begun to corrupt his character; his “sufferings were augmented also by the oppressive sense of the injustice and ingratitude of their infliction. My daily vows rose for revenge – a deep and deadly revenge, such as would alone compensate for the outrages and anguish I had endured” (143).  Indeed, the corruption of his character is most exemplified by his statement that “I am malicious because I am miserable” (147).

Thus, from the creature’s narrative a different interpretation of the source of danger and evil in knowledge and discovery can be developed; that danger does not come from the science itself, but instead comes from the corruption of that knowledge by human society. Theodore Ziolkowski, in his “Science, Frankenstein, and Myth”, supports this interpretation by questioning “why does she [Shelley] spend six chapters – a quarter of the book – recapitulating the monster’s adventures, which are unrelated to the rest of the plot? She wants us to understand that Frankenstein’s creation is not evil in itself but has been made that way by society” (Ziolkowski 42). He continues by arguing that “we also find an emphatic statement that scientific creation is morally neutral, with a pronounced capacity – indeed, even a predisposition – for good, until it is corrupted by human society” (Ziolkowski 42). As Ziolkowski argued, the creature demonstrates a definite capacity for good; he helps the family by cutting their wood, helps save a girl from drowning, and wants to be integrated into peaceful and loving society. It is not until the creature is mistreated by humanity and rejected unjustly because of his horrible visage without consideration for his positive traits that he becomes the monster that Frankenstein thinks he is all along.

Having demonstrated that scientific discovery and knowledge is inherently neutral but corrupted by human society, Shelley has developed another message about knowledge and science; it is the responsibility of the scientist and society to prevent the misuse and abuse of that knowledge. Christopher Toumey argues that “ultimately the evil of science is depicted and condemned principally in terms of the character of people who are scientists” (Toumey 415). The reader can observe this to be the case in “Frankenstein”; Shelley does not present the science and creation itself as evil, but shows that it becomes so through the irresponsible actions of its creator. Thus, her warning and condemnation of knowledge is not one against the knowledge itself, but against the scientists who are irresponsible with their discoveries. The creature’s murderous rampage is evil, even if he isn’t innately evil himself, and it is the responsibility of society to prevent that evil from starting and ensure that it is stopped. Shelley portrays Frankenstein as scientist of growing moral character; his initial irresponsibility sets in motion his creation’s corruption, but by the end of the book he has accepted the responsibility to prevent further damage caused by his corrupted creation. In this growth of his character, she demonstrates what she views the actions of the responsible scientist should be.

Though the most important act of irresponsibility comes when Frankenstein sparks life into his creature and immediately abandons him, the actual act of creation itself is steeped in irresponsibility too. Abigail Bloom points this out in her “The Literary Monster on Film”, arguing that the circumstances surrounding Frankenstein’s pursuit of knowledge and his act of creation contribute to the corruption of science. She says “Frankenstein states that he takes upon himself the creation of a new species to benefit mankind… but his actions are more selfish than magnificent. Frankenstein’s isolated situation has led him to a scientific possibility devoid of moral constraints. Circumstances come together to lead to the creation and the tragedy it entails” (Bloom 15). This is argued further in “Mary Shelly, Frankenstein”, where the author points out that the creation of knowledge in isolation is act of irresponsibility.  He says “new and unfamiliar knowledge can only be troubling to those who are unacquainted with its origins. The only way to introduce knowledge is to demonstrate it, that is, to display it and in doing so, to demystify it” (Schoene-Harwood 154). In his isolated circumstances, away from human interaction, Frankenstein cannot consider the moral implications of his work nor develop the means for it to benefit or interact with mankind. It is thus unsurprising that human society reacts negatively to the ‘mystified’ creation, thereby corrupting it, because Frankenstein failed to reveal this knowledge and creation to the world, and instead worked in isolation. Furthermore, by pursuing this knowledge without even acknowledging or recognizing the possibility for it to be corrupted, even if it may be inherently neutral, Frankenstein is setting himself up for disaster.

This corruption comes immediately when Frankenstein quickly abandons his monster. Toumey affirms this, pointing out that Frankenstein, “shocked by what he had done … did the most immature thing imaginable; he abandoned his creature, leaving it to roam through Bavaria and Switzerland” (Toumey 424). Frankenstein’s immediate abandonment of his creature is the ultimate source of all of the troubles in the book; as Toumey says, the abandonment thus turns the creature loose to be acted upon and rejected by a hostile human society. Ziolkowski further reinforces this argument, pointing out that “if Victor Frankenstein had not been overcome by his initial disgust, if he had responded to his creature with love and understanding, it might have become an instrument of good rather than evil” (Ziolkowski 43).  After all, because the creature becomes corrupted by the continual rejection of him by society, it can be inferred that his innately good character would be preserved and reinforced if it was met with immediate compassion and kindness. Indeed, Frankenstein points out that he is bound by a responsibility to his creature shortly before his death. He says “In a fit of enthusiastic madness I created a rational creature, and was bound towards him, to assure, as far was in my power, his happiness and well-being” (219). However, Frankenstein breaks this bond of responsibility, neglecting his creature’s happiness and well-being in full. Through Frankenstein’s own words, Shelley is demonstrating that the neglectful irresponsibility of the scientist towards his discoveries, knowledge, and creation can lead to the dreadful consequences which the scientist Frankenstein experiences.

Yet Shelley’s message extends beyond a scientist’s initial responsibility for his creation. The scientist must maintain vigilance in being responsible with his work, and Shelley demonstrates this necessity by having Frankenstein’s moral character develop. Toumey points out this development, saying that “shortly after it caused two deaths, Frankenstein met his creature face to face and, in a long conversation, realized that he must take responsibility for his creation” (Toumey 424). At first, he agrees to build a female companion for his creation, recognizing that “did I not as his maker, owe him all the portion of happiness that it was in my power to bestow?” (148). He feels bound to the responsibility towards his creature which he initially reneged upon. Yet more than just that, he recognizes the opportunity to rid himself and society of the creature for good, and thus prevent further damage by it. By having a female companion, the creature will leave humanity alone forever, and Frankenstein only consents to the creature’s demands “on your solemn oath to quite Europe forever, and every other place in the neighborhood of man” (150). He feels that building this creature is thus a responsibility he must take on, for he “concluded that the justice due both to him and my fellow creatures demanded of me that I should comply to his request” (150). He is beginning to accept that he holds the power to stop his creation, and that is indeed his responsibility to act upon that power. However, upon further reflection, Frankenstein recognizes the danger in the work he is about to undertake, realizing that “even if they were to leave Europe… a race of devils would be propagated upon the earth, who might make the very existence of the species of man a condition precarious and full of terror. Had I a right, for my own benefit, to inflict this curse upon everlasting generations?” (171). Frankenstein realizes that the creature, which has now been corrupted by his initial irresponsibility and the maliciousness of human society, has the potential and the will to conduct further evil. A pair of these creatures is capable of propagating a race which could terrorize man like how the creature has terrorized Frankenstein. He also recognizes that creating another creature might not resolve his problems, for “she … might refuse to comply with a compact made before her creation. They might even hate each other… she might quit him, and he be again alone, exasperated by the fresh provocation of being deserted by one of his own species” (171). Thus, Frankenstein makes the decision to renege on his promise and tears up the work he had done on the female. By doing so, he has accepted and acted upon a responsibility he owes mankind which is greater now than the responsibility he owes the creature; he is preventing the creature from the opportunity to spread its evil. Frankenstein makes mention of this greater responsibility when talking to Walton, saying that “my duties towards the beings of my own species had greater claims to my attention, because they included a greater proportion of happiness or misery. Urged by this view, I refused, and I did right in refusing, to create a companion for the first creature” (220). Of course, by failing to meet his side of the promise, Frankenstein inflicts the wrath of the creature upon himself; the creature begins a murderous rampage of his friends and family. Thus, Frankenstein must accept and act upon the ultimate responsibility: he must destroy his creation which has been corrupted and which is acting with malicious evil. By destroying his creation, he can end the suffering which it has caused, and prevent the creature from further plaguing mankind. He acts upon this responsibility by going on a quest to find and kill his creation, but ultimately fails to achieve his goal. However, recognizing that the responsibility remains and that it must be acted upon, he tells Walton that “The task of his destruction was mine, but I have failed. When actuated by selfish and vicious motives, I asked you to undertake my unfinished work; and I renew this request now, when I am only induced by treason and virtue” (220). He is attempting to pass his responsibility on to another, not because he does not want to act upon it, but because he recognizes that doing so is the only way it will be completed.

It is clear that Frankenstein grows throughout the book from being entirely irresponsible, causing his creature to become corrupted and thus malicious, to being somewhat responsible, recognizing that he is bound to his creature and owes him the creation of a female, to being entirely responsible, recognizing that the creation of a female could bring even further consequences and harm to society and that the only proper course of action is seeking the destruction of his corrupted creation. Shelley has portrayed the varying levels of responsibility she sees as important in the scientist: responsibility to the creation and responsibility to society. If the scientist is able to uphold his responsibility throughout the scientific process and throughout his pursuit of knowledge then, as seen in the inherently neutral character of the creature and thus the inherently neutral nature of science, there is no reason to think that his creations will do harm. Had Frankenstein accepted his creature immediately and taken up the responsibilities Shelley believes a scientist should have, it is likely that his creature’s good nature would have been more pronounced than his bad nature, if that bad nature would be pronounced at all.

It must be noted, however, that despite Shelley’s message about the inherently neutral nature of science and knowledge she is not saying that science and knowledge can’t be dangerous. There is definitely an ambiguity to science, one which is developed out of the nature of mankind. Chris Baldick argues this point in his “In Frankenstein’s Shadow”, saying “knowledge is shown to be double-edged, its benefits and hazards depending upon the circumstances, and the spirit, in which it is pursued” (Baldick 45). Human society and scientists must be responsible with their creations and discoveries; if they are then the disastrous consequences seen in the events of “Frankenstein” won’t occur. Yet this does not mean that human society and scientists will be able to live up to this standard. Ultimately, there is a degree of human fallibility which makes this inherently neutral science become a tool for society to destroy, kill, and devastate. Indeed, Shelly recognizes this herself, demonstrating this by having the creature ask “was man, indeed at once so powerful, so virtuous, and magnificent, yet so vicious and base?” (114). She has argued that science and knowledge itself is neutral, but corrupted by human behavior; she also recognizes that human behavior is capable of being ‘vicious and base’, and thus entirely capable of corrupting science and knowledge. The danger therefore remains; Andrew Bartlett reinforces this in his “Frankenstein and Scientific Revelation”, saying that “the problem of modern science is that it makes mad science a real possibility” (Bartlett).

Works Cited

Baldick, Chris. “In Frankensteins Shadow”. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 1987. Print.

Bartlett, Andrew. “Frankenstein and Scientific Revelation”. Anthropoetics 13.1 (2007) EBSCHOhost. Web. 10 April 2013.

Bloom, Abaigal. “The Literary Monster on Film”. North Carolina: McFarland & Company. 2010. Print.

Lowe-Evans, Mary. “Frankenstein: Mary Shelly’s Wedding Guest”. New York: Twayne   Publishers. 1993. Print.

Northam, Paul. “Legacy of Frankenstein: The Monster is the One in the White Lab Coat” Frankenstein’s Footsteps: Science, Genetics and Popular Culture 86.5. (1998): 479-480.    JSTOR. Web. 3 April 2013.

Schoene-Harwood, Berthold. “Mary Shelly, Frankenstein”. New York: Columbia University Press. 2000. Print.

Shelly, Mary. “Frankenstein”. London: Penguin Classics. 2003. Print.

Tourney, Christopher. “The Moral Character of Mad Scientists: A Cultural Critique of Science”.   Science, Technology, and Human Values 17.4 (1992): 411-437. JSTOR. Web. 1 April2013.

Ziolkowski, Theodore. “Science, Frankenstein, and Myth”. The Sewanee Review 89.1 (1981):34-56. JSTOR. Web. 4 April 2013.

It was the longest, bloodiest, and largest struggle in ancient history, a war in which over 15 percent of the Italian population lost their lives in a single military disaster on a single day. It was a conflict which pitted two of antiquity’s greatest civilizations against each other for the first time, and which would determine their ultimate destinies and the course of European history forever. Though the First Punic War, which lasted from 264 B.C. to 241 B.C., started as a minor conflict over a political dispute in Northern Sicily, it soon encompassed all of the central Mediterranean and Northern Africa. The Romans and Carthaginians would spend over 20 years fighting for control over the valuable sea lanes surrounding Sicily and for dominance over Sicily itself. An understudied and under-recognized war, the First Punic War is a fascinating case study of major conflict; an analysis of this conflict demonstrates how minor disputes can evolve into a major war, how former allies can quickly become enemies and vice versa, and how the situation surrounding the resolution of a conflict can lead to the beginning of a new one.

The origin and catalyst of the war was found in a minor conflict involving neither the Carthaginians nor the Romans. In 289 B.C., the Syracusan ruler Agathocles died and his band of mercenaries, known as the Mamertines, seized control of Messana (a city on the far north-east tip of Sicily). For years, they secured their position and extended their power, but then came into conflict with the Syracusan general Hiero. Hiero’s victories over the Mamertines gave him the opportunity to pronounce himself King of Syracuse, while it prompted the Mamertines to seek allies. Certain factions within the Mamertines appealed to Carthage for aid while some appealed to Rome; the chronology is rather disputed (Morstein-Marx 148), but it is clear that Carthage moved first by installing a garrison in Messana and ending Hiero’s siege. The Roman Senate was slower to respond, mired by indecision and infighting. Thus the Consuls of 264 put the issue to a vote in the popular assembly, asking the Roman citizenry to approve an intervention.

Analyzing the character of the Roman state is important in understanding how Rome approached foreign policy issues and why they approached the conflict as they did. Rome was a monarchy until its kings were overthrown and the Republic established in 509 B.C. The Republic was ruled by two annually elected “Consuls”, who came from the ranks of the Senate. The Consuls were given imperium, the right to command Roman soldiers and to dispense justice, and were often in command of armies as they engaged in war; military glory was the greatest ambition of a Roman aristocrat. A great victory might win a Consul the right to celebrate a triumph, one of Rome’s highest honors (Harris 15). The Senate was a closed, oligarchic body of about 300 which advised the magistrates and discussed the affairs of state. It had no actual legislative power and all its decrees needed to be ratified by the people, but its religious authority and its permanence ensured that it had a dominant role in domestic and foreign policy (Goldsworthy 40). Military service and victory brought the Consuls much glory, and as such the Roman state was often engaged in war. Indeed, throughout much of the history of the early and middle Republic the Roman army was on campaign at least once a year (Harris 15). The men of the Senate also sought, and received, the prestige which military victory provided; valor and military service were seen as necessary for the advancement of a Roman politician’s career and the betterment of his reputation (Harris 17). As such, the Roman state was one which was willing and eager to wage war.

The  proposal of the Consuls was approved by the Roman people, and the Romans mustered their force; meanwhile, the Carthaginian garrison at Messana was expelled from the city by the Mamertines. Primary sources say that this expulsion was aided by the Romans (Goldsworthy 72). At this stage in the escalating conflict, there was a great deal of negotiation between the various parties (Goldsworthy 73). The Carthaginians warned the Romans not to intervene in the dispute, urging them to seek peace rather than confront the might of the Carthaginian navy. The Romans, however, stressed their need to fulfill their fides, or faith, to their new allies the Mamertines. Neither side was willing to back down, exacerbating the conflict (Lazenby 47).

The Carthaginian and Roman refusal to back down can be attributed to a fundamental miscalculation by both sides regarding the escalating nature of the conflict, and demonstrates how states engaged in conflict often get there unintentionally. In the past the Carthaginians had endured the onslaught of foreign enemies, such as Pyrrhus of Epirus in the 270s B.C., and had always repulsed them. The contrast between the strength of the Carthaginian fleet, which had maintained Carthage’s vast maritime trade empire, and the almost nonexistent Roman fleet further encouraged the Carthaginian belief that the Romans would have extreme difficulty in maintaining a presence in Sicily. Indeed, the Carthaginians had little reason to think the Romans would land in the first place, or believe that any initial defeats would be anything other than temporary (Goldsworthy 75). The Romans also did not believe that their intervention would lead to full scale war. The potential for a confrontation with the Carthaginians clearly existed, and a clash with Hiero’s Syracuse was certain, but the Romans may have felt that their military power was strong enough to deter or quickly defeat any opposition in Sicily (Goldsworthy 69). The perceptions of these states about their own power and the power of their enemies prevented them from recognizing the possibility for prolonged war, and led them directly into it. Thus, feeling confident, the Consul Appius Claudius managed to bring most of his force across the strait between Italy and Sicily as the Carthaginians were being expelled from Messana. In response to this escalation, the Carthaginians and Hiero formed an alliance. The ease to which Hiero was willing to cooperate with his former enemy demonstrates the degree to which all parties were now acting out of self-interest (Goldsworthy 73). The sides were now set, and the conflict was about to begin.

The Greek historian Polybius points out, “no sane man goes to war with his neighbors simply for the sake of defeating his opponent… all actions are undertaken for the sake of the consequent pleasure, good, or advantage” (Harris 1). The origins of the conflict were the respective Roman and Carthaginian decision to become involved in the Mamertine/Syracusan dispute, but these were influenced and determined by a number of factors. Roman and Carthaginian interests, outlooks, and perceptions would send them into a collision course, and provoke an escalation from a minor dispute into a major conflict.

A major contributor to the Roman citizenry’s decision to become involved in the conflict was the promise of plunder. Economic gain was to the Romans an integral part of successful warfare and the expansion of power; in many ways, it is how the Romans measured and justified the success of their conquests (Harris 56). Slaves, booty, and wealth were especially attractive spoils of war to Romans with sizable landholdings, but even the poorest Romans who served in the army could expect to return home with some prize. To the Senators and Consuls leading Rome during the build-up to the conflict, Sicily would have looked like an especially attractive source of this wealth. The island’s fertility was probably already known, the Carthaginian Empire’s reputation as being enormously wealthy made it a desirable target, and the possibility for territorial gain also excited Roman interests (Harris 63). Viewed through the lens of economic gain, the Roman citizenry’s decision to approve the decision to go to send an army in 264 B.C. is unsurprising.

Geopolitical concerns were also a leading contributor to the Roman decision to become involved in a conflict with the Carthaginians. As Roman influence expanded south throughout Italy, the two states seemed to have been on a collision course. Carthage was a far more formidable enemy than Rome had encountered for generations, and the recent invasions of Pyrrhus of Epirus, an overseas enemy who had waged war against the Carthaginians and Romans, made the Romans recognize the possibility of war with a foreign power (Harris 187). As the Romans came to see Italy belonging to them, they grew weary of the power that was stationed so close. There may well have been a fear among the Roman leadership that the Carthaginians would supply military or economic assistance to Rome’s newly acquired southern subjects if Rome quarreled with these subjects in order to weaken the Romans and secure their own foothold in southern Italy (Lazenby 38). The Carthaginian involvement in the Mamertine dispute thus likely looked like a further encroachment of Carthaginian power into Rome’s periphery. Though often framed by primary sources as a ‘defensive war’, the Romans likely had offensive ambitions for the conflict; many modern historians see the Romans expecting and preparing for a Punic war after Pyrrhus’s defeat in 270 (Hoyos 19). A war with Carthage had the potential not only to halt the spread of Carthaginian power, but also to push it back.

Like Rome, Carthage came to be involved in the Mamertine/Syracusan dispute because of national concerns and perceptions, and would thus find itself in a war against Rome. Carthage’s willingness to send a garrison to Messana can be traced to the political realities of Sicily at the time: as a Sicilian power, Carthage was concerned about its hegemony over the island. A Punic alliance with the Mamertines would mean no more Mamertine raids into Punic Sicily or against other Sicilian states friendly with the Carthaginians (Hoyos 44). It also meant the extension of Carthaginian influence into the northeast side of the island, where before it had been concentrated in the south and west. Carthage’s actions were thus a continuation of their long term attempt to dominate Sicily (Goldsworthy 75).

Like that of the Romans, the history of the Carthaginian Empire is important when considering why the Carthaginians were so quick to respond to the Mamertine request for help. Founded as a Phoenician trading city before the beginning of the last millennium B.C., Carthage aggressively expanded its holdings in Africa and overseas up until its first clash with Rome. It had come to dominate much of the coast of Africa throughout the 5th century B.C., setting up trade posts and dominating the key trade routes of the western Mediterranean. Carthage had been involved in Sicilian affairs for centuries before the war, but in the decades leading up to the conflict she found herself embroiled in conflict on the island; as a result of victories over Pyrrhus a decade before the war, Carthage was the master of all of southern and western Sicily (Goldsworthy 28-32). The enormous fertility of the island contributed significantly to Carthage’s wealth, and because of Carthage’s mercantile nature the Carthaginian leadership highly valued their Sicilian possessions and hegemony. With this in mind, it is easy to see why the Carthaginians were so invested in the dispute and reluctant to back down when Rome became involved.

Upon the expulsion of the Carthaginian garrison, the dispute could have fizzled out. Hiero had lifted his siege in response to the Carthaginian garrisoning of the city but had still been crowned king in Syracuse. The Mamertines had successfully repulsed the siege and were in a position to regain their strength. Yet the situation had also evolved: Roman forces, prompted by the Mamertine request, were now on their way to Sicily. Neither Hiero nor Carthage was willing to accept this new political reality. Carthage was likely equally concerned about encroaching Roman influence as the Romans were of Carthage, and a Roman presence in Sicily would have presented a serious threat. This was likely of concern to Hiero too, for he had his own designs on Sicily. Furthermore, the Mamertine threat was still present, and it was in the interest of both parties to suppress them. Considering the situation, the alliance between Hiero and Carthage, and their continued interest in the struggle, was a matter of expedience and necessity for both parties (Lazenby 44-47). This alliance of convenience demonstrates that states will take whatever actions and form whatever relationships they need in order to maximize their power in times of conflict.

The Syracusan-Punic alliance demonstrated how former enemies can quickly become allies during wartime if the political situation necessitates it, and the Roman-Punic conflict demonstrates how former allies can quickly come into conflict. Rome and Carthage had maintained a long relationship, and on the whole it was a friendly one. Polybius lists three treaties signed between Carthage and Rome in the course of their relationship before the First Punic War. The first, signed in 507 B.C., restricted Roman trade with Africa and protected Rome’s interests in Latium. The second, dated to 348 B.C., expanded the area in which Rome was prohibited to trade but also further safeguarded Rome’s Italian interests. The third, and perhaps most important, is dated to 278 B.C., only 14 years before the start of the war. Signed when Rome was embroiled in its conflict with Pyrrhus, Carthage agreed to provide Rome with transports for any movement of troops by sea and was to come to Rome’s aid with naval forces if the need arose (Lazenby 30-32). This treaty was a military agreement, and the significance of the nature of this treaty signed only a decade before the war cannot be understated. It demonstrates that states with competing aims, which Rome and Carthage undoubtedly had, are still able to cooperate with each other diplomatically and militarily. Yet it also demonstrates that states will wage war against each other even if they had agreements and alliances when the opportunity arises for one state to advance its aims at the expense of the other. Ultimately, this shows that states will wage war, or cooperate, when the cost-benefit analysis shows it is rational to do so regardless of who it is with they are cooperating or warring.

The early stage of the war progressed quickly. Over a period of a few months, the Roman army attacked and defeated both the Carthaginians and Hiero in the field; Hiero withdrew his army back to Syracuse while the Romans raided and devastated his territory. In 263 the Romans sent both Consuls to Sicily, each at the head of an army. This show of force persuaded many Sicilian cities to defect from Carthaginian and Syracusan control while others were captured by surprise assaults. The actions of these cities reflect a defensive behavior common during these ancient wars; they sought to ally themselves with the strongest power in order to prevent the devastation of their fields and homes (Goldsworthy 74). The Romans, meanwhile, pursued a strategy of land destruction in order to coerce the Sicilian cities to defect and to demoralize the Syracusans and Carthaginians. This strategy, coupled with overwhelming force, seemed to have worked; Hiero sent envoys to the Romans offering peace and friendship. He offered to provide the Romans with military assistance and ensure the safeguarding and maintenance of their supply lines. The Romans, suffering from supply issues, were thus more than willing to accept the offer (Lazenby 54). Two behaviors can be seen of the Romans part. First, it shows that they were willing to settle a conflict when the situation necessitated it, even if they could have extracted further gains with further campaigning. The Romans likely could have captured Syracuse and defeated Hiero, but they needed his assistance in supplying their armies in order to continue the war against Carthage. Second, by securing a peace with Hiero, Rome was shifting its objectives away from Syracuse and towards Carthage. The securing of supply lines guaranteed the Romans the opportunity to campaign and wage war for prolonged periods of time, enabling them to conduct a longer war with Carthage, and the removal of Hiero from the conflict meant that only Carthage and Rome were left fighting. The peace with Hiero thus completely changed the scope of the war.

In 262 B.C., the Roman armies besieged the city of Agrigentum, the main Carthaginian supply base in Sicily. Following a major battle, one of only a few fought during the course of the war, the city fell to Roman forces. According to the primary sources, the fall of Agrigentum convinced the Roman Senate to extend their war aims to include the total expulsion of the Carthaginians from Sicily (Goldsworthy 81). It meant that the Roman hold on eastern Sicily was finally secure, and that the Romans could begin to think about expanding the scale of the war. (Lazenby 60). Thus, the fall of Agrigentum represents a turning point in the conflict. Before, the conflict was fought over limited objectives; after, it was a struggle over the control of Sicily. This demonstrates how certain events, such as a major military victory or defeat, can change a state’s objectives in a war and how conflicts can easily be intensified and expanded by a state’s perception of its success. Also of enormous importance during the years 262 and 261 B.C. was the Roman decision to build a fleet. Polybius argues that this decision coincided with the fall of Agrigentum, though other scholars have pointed out that the Romans appeared to have been preparing for the construction of a fleet during the years before (Lazenby 64). Either way, the construction of a Roman fleet further represents the Roman decision to escalate the scale of the conflict. Where the conflict had been confined to Sicily and fought only on land, the Romans now wanted to contest the Carthaginian control of the sea. What had begun as a minor dispute with limited objectives had transformed into a struggle over the control of Sicily, and was now transforming into a conflict over the control of the Mediterranean. In only 3 years, the Roman and Carthaginian conflict had evolved into a major clash between civilizations.

Over the next few years, the Carthaginians and Romans clashed both at sea and on land. Minor Carthaginian advances were made in 260 and 259 B.C., but they were repulsed and a number of Roman offensives were staged in the years that followed. The situation in Sicily had become a bit of a stalemate; though the Romans were often on the offensive, the time it took for the Romans to besiege and capture the Sicilian cities allowed the Carthaginians to reverse many of the Roman gains (Lazenby 81). During this time, however, the Romans had considerable success at sea. As a result of these mixed results, the Romans, hoping to force a definite conclusion to the conflict, decided to strike directly at the Carthaginian homeland.

The invasion of Africa in 256 B.C. represents another clear stage in the conflict. This action was a way of putting further pressure on Carthage (Goldsworthy 91). It also reveals the Roman confidence in their capabilities; Roman troops had only left Italy for the first time 8 years prior, and now were preparing for an invasion of Africa. The voyage from Sicily to Carthage was about 400 miles, and the Romans would need to transport an entire army that distance while defending against the still formidable Carthaginian navy. The Roman perceptions about their capabilities convinced them that they could undertake this operation, and thus contributed to their expanding of the conflict (Lazenby 81).

The Consul Marcus Atilius Regulus led the campaign and initially was enormously successful, ravaging the Carthaginian countryside and destroying the Carthaginian army at the battle of Adys. Regulus then sent envoys to Carthage to negotiate terms of peace. This attempt at peace was significant in its own right, but also demonstrates the nature of the Consular office. Regulus’s term was almost at an end, and he wanted to finish the war and take the credit before a successor arrived to gain an easy victory. Indeed, this followed a precedent set by past holders of the office; in many ways, personal ambition and the quest for glory were significant factors contributing to when the Roman leadership decided to seek peace (Goldsworthy 87). The terms of the treaty, however, were enormously harsh: the Carthaginians would need to give up Sicily and Sardinia, release all Roman prisoners freely whilst paying ransom for their own, pay the Romans an indemnity and annual tribute, only make war and peace with the approval of Rome, and only retain one warship for their own use while providing fifty to serve under the Romans. The Carthaginians, though at a disadvantage, were not at the end of their resources and refused to accept the terms. Faced with a Roman refusal to grant concession, the talks failed.

The harshness of the terms, and the ultimate failure of the talks, reflect the attitudes of these states towards waging and terminating war. Roman wars ended only when the enemy ceased to be a threat by admitting total defeat and accepting their future as a subordinate ally; the only alternative for the Romans was to suffer such a defeat themselves. The Carthaginians had a far less absolute attitude towards war, and expected a war to be ended with a negotiated treaty which reflected the actual balance of power (Goldsworthy 92). As such, the Romans expected a peace with Carthage to be a total submission to Roman power, whereas the Carthaginians saw the situation they were in as far from being totally beaten. No peace was to be found because of these conflicting attitudes about peace. This demonstrates how differing approaches and perceptions about what the nature and limitations of a peace treaty should be can influence the resolution or prolongation of a conflict. In the case of the First Punic War, the result was that the conflict would drag on for another decade.

After rejecting Regulus’s offer, the Carthaginians managed to rally their troops, defeat Regulus in a stunning battle, and force the Romans from Africa. The Roman invasion had ultimately been unsuccessful, but it was not a total failure; Carthage’s African subjects, recognizing the disadvantage Carthage was in, began to instigate rebellions and revolts. This forced Carthage to focus energy away from Rome and towards its agitated subjects. Furthermore, the Carthaginian navy had been seriously defeated at Ecnomus during the Roman invasion, and would need another five years to rebuild before beginning further operations (Lazenby 84). In the years that followed, the situation in Sicily was more or less reminiscent of the stalemate which occurred before the Roman invasion of Africa. The Carthaginian army was seriously defeated at the battle of Panormus in 250 B.C., which the last major set-piece battle of the war. From that point on the Carthaginian strategy on land was, for all intents and purposes, entirely defensive. The Romans began the siege of Lilybaeum, the last Carthaginian stronghold on the far west coast of Sicily. Yet the Roman navy also suffered an enormous defeat in the battle of Drepna in 249 B.C., loosing almost its entire fleet. Despite these events, the Romans and Carthaginians continued to wage war.

Surprisingly, Carthage didn’t press the advantage of having destroyed the Roman fleet in 249 B.C.; doing so may have helped it regain the losses it had suffered in Sicily. This can be explained by the escalation of the conflict to include Africa, and the resulting revolt of the Carthaginian subjects. Carthage’s attention, and the focus of its military strength, had been diverted (Lazenby 143). This diversion of attention in part resulted from the election of the Carthaginian general Hanno “the Great” as leader of Carthage. Hanno was the commander-in-chief of Carthage’s African army, and was, according to Polybius, most accustomed to making war in Africa. He probably felt that the war in Sicily against Rome was no longer worth waging, and that Carthaginian attention should be refocused towards its African campaigns (Lazenby 144). This demonstrates how changes in a state’s political leadership can have dramatic impacts on the foreign policies it is pursuing. In the case of a conflict, a new leader may take different steps than his or her predecessors and thus alter the course of the war, as the case with Hanno shows.

The Carthaginian Hamilcar Barca was given command in Sicily, but his calls for an aggressive strategy were rejected and he was forced to make do with the limited soldiers he had in order to wage a guerilla war.  In the meantime, Rome rebuilt its fleet. This was largely made possible donations from  private citizens. Also, Rome commissioned private citizens to launch their own naval raids against the Carthaginian coast. This shows that the total involvement of the Roman state in matters of war, and the fact that Rome’s private citizens were willing, and even eager, to provide assistance to the Republic helped prolong the struggle (Lazenby 150). Using its newly rebuilt navy, the Romans met and engaged the Carthaginian fleet at the Aegates Islands in 241 B.C. and overwhelmed them. Carthage lost most of its fleet in the battle and was unable to find the manpower to support a new one. Following this defeat, the Carthaginians recognized that they were unable to regain control of the sea, and thus unable to support their troops in Sicily. The Carthaginian leadership gave Hamilcar the order to seek peace with Rome. The terms of peace the Romans offered were similar to what Regulus had demanded in Africa a decade earlier. Carthage was to surrender Sicily to the Romans, free all Roman prisoners whilst ransoming back their own and pay both an indemnity and a tribute. Furthermore, neither side was allowed to make war on the others’ allies nor recruit soldiers and raise money in the territory of the other (Goldsworthy 128).

The longest war in ancient history was now over; Carthage and Rome were again at peace. Yet despite the enormous cost of life, property, and wealth and the exhaustion of constant campaigning, the Carthaginians and Romans would find themselves embroiled in another struggle, the Second Punic War, only 23 years later. The cause of the Second Punic War can be found in the termination of the First, demonstrating how the sources of conflict can be derived from the events of a past struggle. The manner in which these events transpired demonstrates how individuals can play a vital role in exacerbating conflict. Hamilcar Barca, who was given command of Sicily in the last stages of the war, was very angry that he had not been given the resources to wage a more aggressive war against Rome. He thought he would have been able to force a victory and that the Carthaginian leadership had allowed the Carthaginian defeat. He further felt that the Roman invasion of Sicily had been an unjust breach of Rome’s and Carthage’s past treaties, and that in the period following the First Punic War, the Romans had demonstrated themselves to be highly untrustworthy (Lazenby 171). Barca would later be chosen to command the Carthaginian campaigns in Spain during the 230s B.C., where he forged for himself and his dynasty a semi-independent state. He used his wealth acquired in Spain to buy loyalty from his army and win political support from home, and soon came to be a powerful voice in the Carthaginian government (Goldsworthy 136). His animosity towards Rome remained, however, and he taught his young son to “never show goodwill to the Romans” (Lazenby 176). The son would be profoundly influenced and shaped by his father’s perceptions of Rome; indeed, because of them, he would later become Rome’s greatest enemy, setting off the Second Punic War and bringing war directly to Roman Italy . This boy was the infamous Hannibal Barca.

The ultimate success of the Romans over the Carthaginians in the First Punic War can be attributed to a number of conflict behaviors, actions, and other factors. The simple quantity of troops involved should be taken into account. The Romans outmanned the Carthaginians throughout the war, and ultimately this proved to be a main reason the conflict drew to a close; the Carthaginians simply could not find the manpower to continue waging war (Lazenby 165). The ultimate resolution of the conflict, however, can be attributed to fundamental differences between Carthaginian and Roman approaches to war. The Carthaginians operated in reaction to Roman aggression throughout the war, and made no serious attempt to force a Roman defeat. They had been able to repeal major invasions by outside powers in the past, and thus sought only to preserve their hegemony on Sicily by holding out and doing the same again. (Lazenby 167). Because of this approach, the Carthaginians were repeatedly put on the defensive, and hardly initiated any major offensives of their own. Perhaps this is because war to Carthage typically ended with a negotiated settlement, not in an ultimate defeat, and they thus did not seek a total war. The Roman approach to war, however, was fundamentally different than the Carthaginian approach, and helped to ultimately force a Roman victory. For Rome, a victory ended only when the other side was subjugated; there were no negotiated settlements. As a result of the Romans unwillingness to stop hostilities until Carthage had been totally defeated., it is easy to see why the conflict lasted as long as it did. As such, they waged war with a serious ferocity and determination; despite great losses and setbacks, the Romans would not abandon their offensive. Even when outnumbered or in a disadvantageous position, they constantly continued to attack in order to apply continuous pressure on the enemy (Goldsworthy 130). The momentum always lay with the Romans because Rome was constantly taking actions to defeat the Carthaginians, and the Carthaginians were constantly trying to respond and defend against these actions. With this in consideration, it is hard to see how Carthage could ever have emerged victorious.

Understanding the First Punic War is thus vitally important to understanding the overall course history, and understanding the origins, sources, behaviors, and actions of the First Punic War is vital to understanding the way it was fought, why it was fought, and how it concluded. The Roman civilization has profoundly impacted the modern world; western civilization and culture owes its heritage to the Romans. Had the Romans failed in creating their European empire , the world today would be a completely different place. The First Punic War is thus perhaps one of the defining conflicts in history: the Roman victory over Carthage set in motion its domination of the Mediterranean, and thus the eventual creation of its empire. If Carthage and Rome had gone their separate ways, history might have been forever altered.

Bibliography              

Goldsworthy, Adrian Keith. The Punic Wars. London: Cassell, 2000. Print.

Harris, William. War and Imperialism in Republic Rome 327-70 BC. Oxford: Clarendon Press.     1989. Print.

Hoyos, Dexter. Unplanned Wars: Origins of the First and Second Punic Wars. Berlin: W   Hildebrand, 1997. Print.

Lazenby, J.F. The First Punic War. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1996. Print. T

Morstein-Marx, Robert and Nathan Rosenstein, A Companion to the Roman Republic. Oxford:    Blackwell Publishing LTD. 2006. Print.