Hello, I’m Yves. With a recent focus on war-related narratives, it seems timely to shift gears. Eclipses hold significant meaning in both Western and Vedic astrology, and I’m curious if anyone with expertise could share insights on the upcoming solar and lunar eclipses. Before dismissing this topic, it’s worth noting that many Wall Street traders incorporate astrological events into their strategies, even if they might not fully believe in their influence. Just like in technical trading, numerous fund managers may not endorse these practices, yet they consider them due to the widespread beliefs of other investors.
By Javier Andreu Pintado, Professor of Ancient History and Director of the Archaeology Diploma, University of Navarra. Originally published at The Conversation
Two philosophers observing an eclipse, etching by Pierre Brébiette.
Metropolitan Museum of Art
On August 12, Europe, especially the Iberian peninsula, will gaze upwards to behold a monumental solar eclipse. We have precise information about when it will commence, its duration, and which areas of the sun will be obscured by the moon. Today, mobile applications enable us to calculate the exact moment of maximum darkness and suggest the best locations for viewing.
Historically, however, eclipses have been seen as more than mere astronomical phenomena. They were regarded as powerful occurrences that could reshape the world itself.
A sculpted medallion on the Arch of Constantine in Rome, depicting the Roman god Sol ascending to the heavens in his chariot.
bradhostetler/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY
In Ancient Rome, eclipses held significant religious implications. The sun was central to pre-Christian Roman beliefs, and while learned men derived explanations from Greek astrology, they still viewed eclipses—literally meaning “the disappearance of the sun” in Greek—as divine omens. Within Roman society, these events were closely monitored.
These two perspectives—rational and superstitious—coexisted for centuries, providing insights into how Romans perceived the ties between nature, religion, and authority. This intertwining of beliefs continues today, evident in our use of the term “omen” to convey both a foretelling and a deeper meaning.
The cyclical nature of eclipses was first identified by Babylonian astronomers, whose predictive methods were later adopted by the Greeks and subsequently the Romans. Roman scholars such as Pliny the Elder and Seneca reflected on eclipses in their writings, indicating that Roman astronomy was grounded in a legacy that dates back to early literary traditions.
An illustrative instance of Roman eclipse observations occurred during Emperor Claudius’s reign. The historian Cassius Dio records that, before an eclipse on August 1, AD 45, the emperor had the event publicly announced to avoid mass panic.
This highlights the awareness among imperial authorities regarding their predictive abilities, as well as the widespread fear eclipses instilled in the populace.
Prodigia et Metum: Wonder and Fear
Even though the Romans possessed a scientific understanding of eclipses, they concurrently viewed them through a religious lens. They believed that the universe was governed by divine forces; thus, natural occurrences could hold both physical and spiritual significance.
For instance, in The Life of Romulus, the historian Plutarch recounts an eclipse in June 708 BC that coincided with the death of Rome’s first king, transforming day into night. Eclipses were often categorized as prodigia, or omens indicating a discord between humans and the divine, necessitating a response from state-sanctioned religion.
Historian Livy’s accounts are abundant with similar examples. An eclipse in 340 BC was recorded alongside a hailstorm, prompting the Senate to prescribe rituals aimed at appeasing the gods.
On July 17, 188 BC, another solar eclipse cast Rome into shadows for nearly two hours, leading to widespread alarm and a decree for three days of purification rituals on the sacred Aventine Hill.
Occurrences of eclipses during times of political turmoil only increased their foreboding connotations. For instance, during Rome’s expansion into Macedonia, an eclipse was seen as an omen foreshadowing the Greeks’ defeat at the Battle of Pydna in 168 BC.
In 49 BC, Cassius Dio similarly chronicled a total solar eclipse that was listed among several ominous signs for Rome, causing some magistrates to delay their appointments due to perceived ill fate.
The statesman and philosopher Cicero interpreted the partial solar eclipse of May 18, 63 BC as a dire warning regarding his consulship that year.
Even biblical texts reference eclipses; one notably occurred following Jesus’s death, exemplifying the prodigia associated with the crucifixion.
In Rome, the fascination with eclipses was not merely due to the temporary darkness, but rather the symbolic weight that darkness carried. The cosmos and human history were interwoven in their belief system, and disturbances in the sky required accurate interpretation to safeguard the welfare of individuals and the state.
Mentes Hominum: The Common People’s Experience
The majority of the Roman populace had not encountered the works of thinkers like Aristotle or Posidonius, nor did they have access to the writings of Seneca or Pliny. Consequently, their experience of an eclipse was vastly different. They perceived the sudden disappearance of the sun—the ultimate light and timekeeper—as a deeply unsettling cosmic interruption.
Superstitious beliefs prevalent among the people often drew from other cultures. There were practices like banging pots and pans during an eclipse to assist the sun in reclaiming its light or to repel the forces that appeared to threaten it. Such actions stemmed from a desire to counteract a phenomenon seen as a disruption to the natural order, triggering fear and uncertainty.
As we brace for the eclipse on August 12, our response may not resemble the fear of the ancients. However, as we gaze at the sky, we can reflect on how the Romans, too, looked up in wonder, pondering a question that transcended astronomy: What message might the gods be conveying by momentarily veiling the sun?
