(Alaric, king of the Visigoths)

“Saturday, damn! What fun!”

That was Splash, who walked up the path from the Fire Ring to the Bunk House, entering by the side door and into the warmth provided by the roaring fire in the wood stove in the corner. His parka was not dusted with snow, which would have recalled the months of deep winter. What covered him was a mix of large icy flakes and resolute moisture. There was no formal production meeting, this being a “weekend,” but the young attorney was present in case discussion veered toward some of the forbidden areas of discourse. Her Legal Department was on break, though, as was Human Resources. On Weekends she was flying blind for external guidance, resolute but with a higher uncertainty factor than during the working week.

Splash was ready to rock as usual. Melissa was awake and alert, a turtleneck under a colorful sweater and black leggings. Loma and Rocket were still in bedwear, considering the falling snow to be a dispensation from normal chores. Buck displayed a sort of campus casual in chinos, oxford button-down shirt and green sweater under a khaki corduroy sport jacket. The group displayed what you might expect on what we hope is the last, or at least close to the last snowfall. Temperatures on the external monitors hung right at freezing, so there was a legitimate question on how long the moisture outside would maintain its white sheen and remarkably slippery consistency.

Splash looked at the legal lady, down-attired in skinny jeans and long form-fitting sweater. He took a sip of coffee and set it down on the trestle table near the stove. “So, we can’t blame any of our current trouble on anyone actually serving in the Government, right?”

She furrowed her brow for a moment. “The guidance hasn’t changed. The Chairman said don’t rile up the censors. Keep a low and gentle profile. Listen to what they are telling you to think and try not to raise trouble. My legal section doesn’t need new issues until Monday.”

“So, we talked about gas prices yesterday, and blamed it on Putin. That is correct, right?”

“That is the current narrative, or was until Close of Business on Friday. No news cycle changes until the weekend is done, so you can just cool your jets on anything new. Just wait until they tell you what it is.”

Splash smiled and laughed as he grabbed the coffee cup for a deep swig. “But we could talk about ancient history, right? Like ancient empires and their rise and fall?” That observation put the attorney in a difficult position, since those sorts of historical ruminations had been discouraged in her education as being based on patriarchal constructs and oppressive exploitation for which today’s generations must be held liable.

“Maybe. So long as you don’t attempt to portray events today in the context of other historic developments.”

“Like the Fall of freaking Rome?”

“The eleven centuries of Roman exploitation should rightly be considered a cautionary tale which could resonate today in analogous circumstances of oppressed peoples rising to fulfill their destinies.” She seemed pleased with the response. Loma smiled and Rocket grimaced, since they knew what was coming.

“Therefore, a general discussion of the fall of a great empire would be OK?” asked Splash, his face filled with fake concern. The attorney knew something was coming but was inclined to let it play out, so long as no current empires were mentioned, or at least restricted to places and peoples far away. She shook her hair in a manner that caused it to sway across her ears.

Splash smiled. “So the Visigoths sacking Rome is OK, right?”

“Yes,” she responded. “But try to avoid references to co-religionist dogmas that may have resulted in less carnage than might have been expected. The liberation of oppressed peoples is OK. Even if you should denigrate the drama since they were generally people of pallor.”

Splash squared his shoulders and leaned forward. “So here is an interesting story of the collapse of a border system and the resulting destruction of a civilization that had endured for more than a thousand years.” He quickly warmed to his task.

“At its height the Roman Empire stretched east from Britain and the Atlantic to North Africa and Mesopotamia. In the fourth century AD, however, the Roman peace’ was menaced by invasions of Germanic peoples from beyond the frontiers of the Rhine and the Danube.”

“Don’t confuse those rivers with the Dnieper, and we can keep going.”

“Among the oppressed people were the Visigoths, led by a jolly fellow named Alaric. He was in his twenties and full of himself. He had seen the division of the Roman empire by Theodosius the Great. It was split into east and west to accommodate equal rule by his sons. Arcadius got the East, and ten-year old Honorius got the west. Alaric saw opportunity.”

“As you might imagine, a ten-year-old was considered too immature to defend his new realm. A regent named Stilicho was appointed to manage things until Honorious was old enough to rule. Stilicho was an interesting character. He was half Goth and half Roman. His bodyguard was composed of loyal Goths.”

“No reference to modern times, please.” The Attorney was along for the ride now and anxious.

“No, this is old. Stilicho moved the capital from Rome to a place called Ravenna, which he considered more defensible. It was actually much closer to the Goth homeland in what is now northeast Italy.”

“Alaric had been attacking the Romans in the Balkans, but turned to repeated invasions of Italy, which Stilicho repelled. Then hordes of other Goths- Germans, we would call them, invaded across the Rhine.”

“It is a pity the Rio Grande isn’t deeper.”

“Watch it.”

“In 408 AD Stilicho was beheaded as a traitor. Popular talk was that he had opened borders and conspired with Alaric to usurp Honorious.”

“What Alaric really wanted was land on which his people could settle. There was controversy about that and discord. For his part, Alaric needed resources to keep his warriors in line and decided to march on Rome, which retained some of the old Empire trappings if not the capital. There was some back and forth, but Alaric led his troops to the Eternal City in 409. The Roman senate was determined to resist, but the oppressed slave class rose and opened the Salarian Gate and the Visigoths poured in. Edward Gibbon wrote it this way: “Eleven hundred and sixty-three years after the foundation of Rome, the Imperial city was delivered to the tribes of Germany and Scythia.”

“Where the hell is Scythia?”
“We call the part of Scythia they knew as Sarmatia ‘Ukraine’ these days.”
“You can see the advantage. Some historians call it one of the most civilized sacks of any city, ever. Of course there was some ‘collateral damage.’ There was looting and killing, enslavement and rapine behavior, but the Visigoths and Ukrainians saved many buildings and monuments and didn’t kill as many as they could have.”

“Now you sound like you are talking about Russians.”

“There are similarities. Alaric withdrew from the city after three days. It was slow going due to the amount of gold and treasure his troops were carrying. They headed south on the Via Appia, looting casually as they went. The story goes that Alaric had the idea of crossing over the Mediterranean to settle in north Africa. They got as far as Calabria, down on the ‘toe’ of Italy. No word on amphibious capability has survived, but Alaric got sick and died. He was only 40.”

“They say there have been a lot of casualties in the Russian officer corps.” That made the Attorney stand up, aware an outbreak of current thinking might be in progress.

Splash tried to get her to settle down. “No, see Alaric was moving south and the Russians are trying to move west. Alaric’s brother-in-law Athaulf succeeded him and negotiated with Ravenna to let the Visigoths settle in what is now the south-west of France. It was more than a bit strange. Athaulf’s wife Galla Placidia became Queen of the Visigoths. When he died, she became Empress of Rome. But regardless of her good luck, by the end of the fifth century the Roman Empire in the west was no more. All that was left was Constantinople in the East.”

“OK, innocent enough story. Bunch of barbarians are let into a proud old country, old government is undermined, looted, ravaged and pillaged. The people of that proud land are screwed. That doesn’t have any relevance to anything today.”

The attorney looked uncomfortable. Everyone else held comment. Except for Splash. He concluded his remarks carefully. “There may have been some partnership between Alaric and the government he was fighting. That government wasn’t even in the most famous city in the world. It is just a good thing the airplane hadn’t been invented yet, or Alaric could have flown his warriors all over the Western Empire in the middle of the night and Romans would have awakened to have Goths set up at their expense in the middle of their towns.”

Loma looked interested, since he used to do targeting. “The Sythian Empire was a lot bigger than Ukraine. It includes a lot of what is Russia today.”

“Just stop, would you?” The Attorney looked out the window. The last snow of winter was moving sideways, and she seemed to have the exact same feeling.

Copyright 2022 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com