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Personal Names in Ancient Anatolia$

Robert Parker

Print publication date: 2013

Print ISBN-13: 9780197265635

Published to British Academy Scholarship Online: January 2015

DOI: 10.5871/bacad/9780197265635.001.0001

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Histoire par les noms in Ancient Galatia1

Histoire par les noms in Ancient Galatia1

Chapter:
(p.79) 6 Histoire par les noms in Ancient Galatia1
Source:
Personal Names in Ancient Anatolia
Author(s):

Coşkun Altay

Publisher:
British Academy
DOI:10.5871/bacad/9780197265635.003.0006

Abstract and Keywords

For the two centuries following the Galatian occupation of central Anatolia after 278 BC, only a few nearly exclusively Celtic names of tribal or mercenary leaders have been transmitted. In the first century BC, the first examples of Anatolian names re-emerge in our evidence, and a few Greco-Macedonian ones alongside them. By the beginning of the second century AD, Roman names prevailed among Galatian aristocrats. This study also looks at the Phrygian and Celtic traditions that were sometimes hidden behind Greek or Roman façades: the extent of such complex naming practices reveals the compatibility of embracing Hellenism or Romanness with an awareness of the Galatian or Phrygian cultural heritage still in the second century. Such local peculiarities faded away in the third century with the universal extension of the Roman franchise and the spread of Christian names.

Keywords:   Celtic names, Anatolian names, Phrygian naming traditions, Greek names, Roman names, Christian names

Outline of Galatian History from the Third Century BC to the Third Century AD2

THE REPERCUSSIONS OF THE LAST MAJOR WAR amongst the Successor Kings at Korypedion in 281 BC offered unique opportunities to the highly populous communities of the Balkans. Under the lead of Celtic-speaking warlords, Macedon and Central Greece were raided in an unprecedented way. The tide broke only when the main throng of King Brennos was defeated at Delphi in 279. Thereafter, some splinter groups continued to roam around. Parts of them were hired as mercenaries, parts were annihilated in further combats, others found new places to settle, yet others even managed to establish the powerful but short-lived Kingdom of Tylis on the Black Sea shore. Most famous, however, were the fighters led by Leonnorios who in 278 accepted an invitation to serve Nicomedes I of Bithynia in a domestic war. Once joined by Lutarios and his men, they not only prevailed but also turned against the neighbouring powers. These two groups were the ancestors of the Tolistobogian and Trocmian tribes, the former (p.80) of which dominated Galatian affairs throughout the next two and a half centuries.3

They gradually took possession of the areas south-east of Bithynia along the Sangarios bow, exerting control over the former Phrygian royal residence of Gordion and the temple state of Cybele Agdistis in Pessinous (it only became the official centre of the Tolistobogian tribe in the first century ad). For much of the third century prior to the Seleucid revival under Antiochus III, they also exacted spoils and taxes from the Aeolian and Ionian cities. The Trokmoi occupied the territory to the east of the Halys bend, centring around the former Hittite town of Tawinija (later called Tavion), but not before the end of the second century. We know much less about other Celts who infiltrated Asia Minor in the third century, with the notable exception of the Tektosages: they were called in by Mithridates I of Pontus in c.276 and would become the most prominent Galatian tribe in Roman imperial times, then settling in and around the former Phrygian town of Ankyra. The fourth major grouping, the Tosiopoi, can be traced from 190 to 48 BC. Traditionally, those tribes had been ruled by kinglets (Celtic riges), whom Mithridates VI reduced to the rank of tetrarchs by 100 bc. The most powerful tetrarch, on whom the Romans even bestowed the royal title for his service against Mithridates VI, was the Tolistobogian Deiotaros; major parts of his realm consisted of eastern Pontus and Armenia Minor (c.100/64–41 bc). The last king of Galatia was his secretary, Amyntas, who, for the first time, extended Galatian control to Pisidia and Pamphylia (after 41–25 bc).4

(p.81) Roman provincial order was imposed in 25 BC,5 but the civic infrastructure typical of Hellenistic cities took about another century to develop. Having effectively shrunk to a castle under Galatian rule, Ankyra was designated as urban centre of the Tektosages, but not even this spurred immediate aggrandisement. More influentialin this regard was the construction of the magnificenttemple for Theos Sebastos and Thea Rhome (2 BC–AD 14). Likewise, the firstmonumental architecture still traceable in Pessinous, which the Phrygian priestly elite shared with the Tolistobogian nobles, was a monumental temple. This has until recently been regarded as another Sebasteion built under Tiberius, but is better viewed as a Cybele sanctuary constructed under Claudius. Tavion, as the centre of the Trokmoi, may have received polis status under Tiberius, but the urban architectural design was implemented only one or two generations later.6

Urbanisation in the heartland of Galatia only gained pace during the eastern wars of Nero and the reorganisation of the Anatolian and Syrian limes under the Flavians. From then on, Ankyra became the busiest centre of interchange of inland Anatolia. Agriculture was fostered to feed the Roman army on the eastern frontier, but also several veterans chose to settle in the area. These conditions eventually accelerated the growth of the aforementioned tribal centres and the foundation of several new villages and towns throughout the countryside, such as Vindia, which continued Gordion. In the course of Trajan's Armenian and Parthian wars (AD 113–17), the provincial boundaries were completely restructured. Galatia became independent from Cappadocia, to which it had been attached, when southern Pisidia and Pamphylia were joined with Lycia (AD 70/72); it also lost its Pontic territories, but gained some Paphlagonian cities that provided access to the Black Sea. Having become the main residence of the legatus Augusti pro praetore Galatiae, Ankyra was (p.82) addressed as metropolis for the firsttime. The remains of baths, a gymnasium and a theatre mainly date to the second century, as do most inscriptions that praise the classical education of Galatian aristocrats and their equestrian or senatorial careers in the empire. While the third-century crises of Roman rule certainly affected Galatia, Ankyra and Tavion continued to be the foremost Greco-Roman cities, deeply Christianised by the early fourth century. It was during the seventh century that urban decline in Byzantine Anatolia reached its final stage7.

Although Galatian soldiers played significantroles in the power games of the eastern Mediterranean world and also had an impact on the cultural history of Asia Minor, ancient Galatian histories have been lost nearly completely. Most extant fragments refer to Galatian involvement in the struggles for supremacy among Hellenistic kings or Roman governors. While isolated among our evidence, Cicero's letters (51–44 BC) and his speech in defence of King Deiotaros (45 BC) fitinto the same pattern. With very few exceptions, a nearly continuous flowof historical inscriptions can be drawn on only for the time span between the Flavian and the Severan periods.8 Given this lacunose nature of our sources, the potential of onomastics to elucidate aspects of the cultural, social and political lives of the Galatians deserves to be exploited systematically. To borrow Louis Robert's famous words: ‘nous devons faire … l'histoire des noms, et même l'histoire par les noms’.9

Galatian Personal Names in the Hellenistic Period

Terminological Clarification

The limited scope of this paper does not permit us to enter into the extensive scholarly debates on the factors which may have constituted pre-modern ethnic identity in general or ‘Celticity’ in particular. Nor can I discuss how the terms Galatai and Latinised Galli or Keltoi were used in antiquity.10 I use (p.83) ‘Celtic’ mainly as a linguistic category, which may or may not have implied notions of ethnic identity or socio-political belonging. While I accept a broad usage of the word ‘Galatians’ until the early 270s BC, I tend to narrow it down, as an analytical term, to those people who invaded parts of northern, western and central Asia Minor and took permanent possession of the area described as the ‘heartland’ of Galatia in the previous section, as well as their descendants. Most of those migrants will have spoken Celtic as their first language, but we should allow for other groups of migrants and indigenous people who were soon socially and culturally amalgamated with them. Since there is no way of singling them out, they have to be counted as ‘Galatians’, too.11 However, those inhabitants of the same area who remained socially and culturally distinct I describe as Phrygians, based on the assumption that, since their arrival in the early first millennium BC, they had amalgamated with the Anatolians in central Asia Minor prior to the arrival of the Galatians.12 A second distinction relates to later immigrants to Asia Minor who may well have been called Galatai in the ancient sources, have used Latène objects, or even borne Celtic names: unless there is strong reason to assume that they were either related to the early migration period or had their homes in the area circumscribed by the bends of the Sakarios and Halys, I rather call them Celtic or Balkanic migrants or, at best, ‘Galatian’ mercenaries.13

The Sources for the Hellenistic Period

According to this definition,there appears to be a close-to-complete overlap of ‘Galatian’ and ‘Celtic’ names for central Asia Minor during the third and second centuries BC. This impression is partly due to the fact that we only know a few dozen names from that early period. Most of them have been transmitted in literary sources. Historiographers were rarely interested in (p.84) Galatian affairs, but occasionally mentioned their kings or tetrarchs when they interacted with Hellenistic rulers, Greek cities, or the Romans.14 While the additional information provided on the biographical or political contexts is very valuable, the high risk of names undergoing distortion has to be pointed out: whether in the composition of the original texts or in the further stages of transmission, the probability of misspelling or adapting a ‘strange’ Celtic name to something that sounds (more) Greek or Latin has always to be kept in mind,15 to say nothing of the possibility that a fully or semi-Hellenised Galatian chose to use an acculturated version of his name when interacting with Greeks or Romans.16

Four tribal kinglets are attested during the conflictbetween the Romans and Antiochus III, which also triggered the Galatian campaign of Cn. Manlius Vulso in 189 BC: while one of them, the Tosiopan Eposognatos (‘Who-Knows-Horses-Well’) remained neutral, the other three had previously supported the Seleucid king and were therefore crushed by the Roman general: the Tolistobogian Ortiagōn (‘Hunter-of-Young-Animals’), the Tektosagen Kombo<i>omaros (‘Great Hard Puncher’) and the Trokmian Gau<d>otos (?).17 These names represent morphological structures and (p.85) themes also typical of the Gaulish aristocracy, among whom, however, compounds of two rather than three elements were most frequent.18

The equine motif is also well known from Greek compounds of two elements (e.g. Philippos, Lysippos). Especially among the Tosiopoi, variations of this type of name consisting of three elements continued to be very popular to the end of the first century, as is shown by the tetrarch Eporēdorix (‘Very Rich/Strong King of Horse Carts’, †86 BC) and the dynast Ateporix (‘Very Rich/Strong King of Horses’, †3/2 BC). The same elements as in the latter name are combined differently in Epatorix (second century ad). Likewise, rix (cf. Latin rex) was popular not only among Gaulish but also among Galatian leaders, among whom one may mention Adiatorix (‘Very Just King’), the son of Domnekleios (‘Famed in the Netherworld’), both probably descendants of the aforesaid Tosiopan rulers.19 Another instance is Gaizatorix (‘King of Spearmen’), who ruled over Paphlagonian Timonitis in the early second century.20

Some of the examples so far adduced, most outstandingly Komboiomaros and Domnekleios, illustrate the particular appeal of violence, warfare and bloodshed as onomastic themes. One may further recall Adobogiōna (‘[Daughter] of the Heavy Beater’), the name of various princesses and queens of the late-second and firstcenturies BC. Likewise telling is that the same root bog-is to be found in the ethnic Tolistobogioi. Such names seem to reveal, among other things, that the image of the bloodthirsty Galatians, which was widely propagated by the Hellenistic kings for obvious political reasons,21 was also emphatically cultivated by themselves.

Another parallel to Gaulish onomastics is attested by the aforementioned examples: a predilection for repeating name elements rather than complete names, which allows for playful variation. However, the impact of the Hellenistic environment, later to be reinforced through the rigid Roman onomastic formula, induced members of the ruling class in particular to (p.86) opt for a dynastic name that was to be repeated over the next generations. The firstexamples of such Leitnamen are Dēiotaros (‘Heavenly Bull’) and Adobogiōna, which started to be iterated probably in the late second century.22

For the firsttime after the Galatian invasion, evidence for the use of Anatolian23 (Tarkondarios), Greek24 (Kastor, Berenikē/Berrōnikē, Pylaimenēs, Amyntas, Stratonikē), and Iranian25 (Mithradatēs) names among the ruling elite of Galatia emerges in the course of the first century. In nearly every instance, however, genealogical connections with neighbouring dynasties can be shown to account for these choices, which were intended to proclaim multiplied authority and royal descent.26 Of special interest are Anatolian names, which very often were indistinguishable from Phrygian names at that time: a high proportion of them were theophoric, such as Tarkondarios who recalls Tarhunt, the Luvian emanation of the weather-god. It would take us too far to account for all variations attested, but it is particularly noteworthy that some divine names were not even altered when used as personal names, such as Phrygian Man ēs and Nana. The latter name also exemplifiesa second trend, namely the extraordinary popularity of Micro-Asiatic Lallnamen.27

Such types, however, would resurface again in the material of imperial date. The most important change that is reflectedin the names after Augustus took direct control of Galatia in 25 BC would be the quick spread of Roman and Greek names, whether or not caused by intermarriage or the acceptance of Roman citizenship.

(p.87) The Names of Galatian Aristocrats from Augustus to the Third Century AD

Epigraphic Sources

With the High Empire, the nature of our evidence changes substantially. While still extremely rare during the Augustan and Julio-Claudian periods, inscriptions referring to the imperial cult, the civic infrastructure or Roman administration became more numerous beginning with the rule of Vespasian, and peaked from Nerva to the Severi. The same period also produced a significant number of funerary inscriptions, a genre that continued well into late antiquity.28 Epigraphic sources present a set of problems different from literature, ranging from fragmentary readings over uncertain dates to controversial reconstructions of the historical, prosopographical or genealogical contexts. Most importantly, onomastic data based on inscriptions quite often do not reveal the layers of society they represent. This said, we can single out three documents from imperial Ankyra that contain several personal names of the most distinguished Galatian families and can even be dated with relative precision. Before we turn to them, it is useful to explain, if only briefly, the principles that underlie the classifications applied.

Classification of Galatian Names during the High Empire

While there is no need to discuss ancient onomastic formulas in general or the Roman name patterns in particular,29 a few aspects deserve to be pointed out. It is no longer controversial that not any Roman name, but rather certain Roman—and even foreign—names arranged in a Roman name formula can be considered a relatively certain, though not infallible, indication of citizenship.30 The most typical version is that of the tria nomina (praenomen + nomen gentile + cognomen), though in fact more frequent in the epigraphic evidence of the eastern provinces are duo nomina, mostly consisting of either praenomen + nomen gentile or of nomen gentile + cognomen. However, for (p.88) the later part of the second century, it would seem appropriate also to include the format praenomen + cognomen. Further variations compatible with citizen status would be the multiplication of either nomina gentilia and cognomina or the use of traditional praenomina as cognomina, all of which are attested in Galatia and beyond.31 In contrast, the Greek, Micro-Asian and Celtic name formulae are quite uniform, normally consisting of a nomen unicum plus a patronymic in the genitive (usually without filiation);occasionally, though, we can observe double names among the Micro-Asians which combine two names of Phrygian or Anatolian or Greek or Roman origin (no Celtic example is known to me).32

The traditional approach of collecting and classifying names according to their language is mostly useful, even though the category ‘Roman’ is not strictly speaking linguistic, since it comprises some Etruscan, Greek and other elements beyond Latin. However, especially in intercultural contexts (which are frequent throughout the history of mankind), it is not sufficient to confineoneself to such ‘primary attributions’, for many choices of a ‘foreign’ (e.g. Roman) name may have been influenced not solely by social or legal conditions (e.g. adoption, intermarriage, franchise) that would be reflected in such a ‘new’ name, but also by sound patterns or motifs similar to traditional ones (e.g. Celtic). In fact, a closer look at different societies under Roman provincial rule, living thousands of kilometres or hundreds of years apart, shows that similar mechanisms could strongly guide the choice of Roman or Greek names by local people of Celtic or Micro-Asiatic stock. At least five types of ‘hidden’ cultural background that deserve a ‘secondary attribution’ should be distinguished:33

1 Translation of a traditional theme: a first example may be the name Equinus, which appears to translate the horse motif previously attested in the family of the Tosiopan Epo-sognatos; the Celtic rix-names may have rendered the choice of Greco-Roman Basilas < Greek basileus more attractive. A very (p.89) telling example is yielded by a fourth-century BC bilingual inscription from Sardes, which translates the Lydian personal name Bakíveś to Dionysiklēs.34

2 Variation of a traditional theme: the popularity of Asklēpiadēs or even Asklēpios is to be explained with the strong predilection for theophoric names among the Micro-Asiatic population; and the frequency of Alexandros especially among the Celts is best explained by a combination of both the royal prestige owed to the Macedonian king and its martial theme (‘Who wards off men’).

1/2 Other onomastic themes popular among Gauls and Galatians are love, justice, rule of people, and bloodshed, for which cf. Greek Philōn, as well as Latin Iustus, Publius, and Rufus respectively.

3 Adaptation of sound patterns: the bear motif underlying Celtic Ar(k)tos, Artiknos might have prompted the choice of Artemidōros (despite its theophoric character); the popularity of Seleukos in imperial Galatia is quite isolated and should be accounted for both by its implication of royal prestige and its Celtic reinterpretation as referring to (the possession of) large estates.35

4 Morphological hybridisation: possibly the most widespread example is the use of the Latin suffix-ianos, to produce a patronymic of whichever language, such as Celto-Roman Eburianos or Anatolio-Roman Gaianos.36

5 Multiple epichoric background: in some cases, the determination of the ‘hidden’ cultural background is less clear, partly because of our limited knowledge of the fragmentary languages at stake, partly because Celtic and Micro-Asian themes or sound patterns seem to overlap with each other. For example, the name of the second-century princess Kamma has so far been explained as either Celtic or Anatolian, though a deliberate choice of a name that functions in both languages should be considered as a third possibility.37 More interestingly, the highly popular Domnos can be understood as Phrygian, Celtic and Roman, so that one may wonder if the Roman reinterpretation of this name prompted the frequency of Greek Kyrios.38

The Sebastos Priests from 5 BC to AD 19

The earliest document to be discussed here is the list of annual priests still legible on the left anta of the Sebasteion in Ankyra.39 Only very recently, it was demonstrated that they held office precisely from 5/4 BC to AD 18/19. Although this date refers us to long before the foundation of the koinon of the Galatians under Nero, it is apparent that the priests were recruited not only locally from among the aristocracy of the Tektosages, but from the top echelons of all Galatian tribes. Their names, together with their donations, were documented on two or more occasions between AD 14 and 19.40 The list originally comprised the names of the twenty-three first priests; in four cases, their names have been lost entirely; two of them served twice, so that our sample effectively consists of only seventeen persons. Altogether, we still have, or can restore, thirty-six individual names of seventeen priests and of fifteen fathers; discarding the names of those who iterated office,our sample is reduced to thirty-two.41

These priests had to be affluent enough to afford benefactions such as splendid games, public banquets and massive olive oil donations. In at least four cases, we can even be sure that the priests were the descendants of kings (nos. 2, 4 = 12) or tetrarchs (nos. 5 = 8, 16). It is noteworthy that none of these yet held Roman citizenship. This observation seems to support the view that a major factor leading to the provincialisation in 25 BC was the lack of close friendship ties between the ruling families of Rome and Galatia so shortly after the defeat of Mark Antony at Actium. Prior to this, many successes of Galatian warfare and diplomacy had been owed to Deiotaros' friendship with Pompey and Cicero, as well as to Amyntas' relations with Mark Antony.42 (p.91) Be this as it may, two of the nineteen attested priests were Roman citizens already in the late Augustan or early Tiberian period: Iulios Pontikos (no. 15, AD 10/11) and Kointos Gallios Pulcher (no. 17, AD 12/13).43 Both cases invite some further speculation.

On the one hand, the cognomen Pontikos recalls not only the role that the Galatians had played in defeating Mithridates VI, but also the principalities in formerly Pontic territories that some Tolistobogioi and Tosiopoi had received from Rome. On the other hand, the earliest Galatian Iulios who claims to be one of the descendants of such Galatian kings and tetrarchs (in the surviving records) is G. Iulios Severos cos. suff. AD 138/9, whereas all identifiable offspring of previous generations were either peregrini or Klaudioi. And, more specifically,Albiorix and Aristokles (nos. 5 = 8 and 17), the son or respectively grandson of Ateporix, who had ruled the Pontic fiefdom of Karanitis, were clearly not yet Roman citizens either.44 More likely, we may thus be dealing with a son or grandson of a Galatian who had assisted Iulius Caesar in his campaign against Pharnakes II in Pontus (47 BC).

In fact, Caesar is also my first bet for the authority who conveyed citizenship to the ancestor of priest no. 17. His cognomen reminds us of the senatorial family of the Claudii Pulchri who were highly influential until the 50s BC and are known to have had tight links to Asia Minor. Most prominent was P. Clodius Pulcher, the notorious tribune of 58 BC, who collaborated closely with both the Trokmian tetrarch Brogitaros and Caesar. He not only raised the former to kingship, but also (briefly)established him as lord of Pessinous. At least in theory it would thus be possible that Gallios was a member of the Pessinuntian elite, since Gallos was not only the name of the local river but also the title of a Cybele priest (homonymy with the Latin term for Gaulish is purely coincidental). While Clodius was never entitled to convey citizenship, he may have benefited from Caesar's right to choose 500 easterners to bestow citizenship on, a privilege that Caesar shared with many of his friends around the same time.45 However, the rare combination of praenomen and nomen gentile seem rather to refer us once more to the year 47 BC, when a certain Q. Gallius was quaestor or legate of Marcius Philippus, proconsul Ciliciae in the service of Caesar, who then controlled the whole Roman state. At all events, the name choices expressed multiple social affiliations,without necessarily (p.92) referring to the one who ultimately made the citizenship grant happen, Julius Caesar.46

It has to be stressed that all the connections put forward here are hypothetical, but by complementing each other, they seem to gain a much higher degree of credibility than any suggestion that ascribes the citizenship grant to Augustus or Tiberius.47

The names of Roman governors continued to have an impact on aristocratic naming practices in imperial Galatia. Most importantly, two former Roman cognomina attested in the priest list had previously been borne by a legatus Augusti pro praetore Galatiae: Rufos (no. 3, 3/2 BC) probably owed his name—or perhaps a Latinised version of it—to the governor A. Pupius Rufus c.21/10 BC or Metilius Rufus 2 BC–AD 4; and the name of Akylas, the father of Gaios (no. 23, AD 18/19), was in all likelihood influenced by Cornutus Arruntius Aquila who governed 10–6 BC.48 It is apparent that these choices were not due to the conveyance of citizenship, but rather expressions of gratitude or attachment, a phenomenon that would become even more frequent the longer Roman imperial rule existed (see below, pp. 95–6).

However, in most of such cases, one can observe a significant overlap between the Roman name and an indigenous, mostly Celtic, onomastic tradition. Rufus ‘the Red’, which may originally go back to denote reddish hair or beard, recalls Gaulish personal names such as Roudios, Rudus or Anderoudus ‘Very Red’, which are best explained as referring to the blood spilt in combat.49 The extraordinary popularity of Akylas and its derivatives such as Akylios and Akyleine or its hypocoristic Akka are not only to be viewed (p.93) as the Hellenised renderings of ‘Eagle’, but also sound similar to Celtic *acus ‘Swift’; hence it does not come as a surprise that the name Keler is attested in the same aristocratic clan in Galatia as Akylas.50

In total, among the firstSebastos priests, eight out of thirty-two names are Roman, whereas seventeen are Greek. This seems to underline that the Hellenising influenceof central Anatolia during the Augustan age may still have been more substantial than the impact of Rome on Galatian elite culture. Six names were Celtic at the time, compared to only one Anatolian. The impression that, despite increasing intermarriage in the highest aristocracy, the Celtic element was still prevalent is further corroborated by the fact that some eleven of the Greek or Roman names fitwell into Celtic naming patterns, whereas six seem to continue Anatolian or Phrygian ones. In addition, five Greek or Roman names may have corresponded to both a Celtic and Micro-Asian predilection. Thus the choice of only two out of twenty-two Greek and Roman names cannot be explained with epichoric traditions.

List of bouleutai of the Galatian koinon, AD 98

Next comes the most important document for Galatian onomastics: the list of the councillors of the koinon who sponsored the statue of an emperor in or after his fourth consulship. Originally, the text started with a dedication to the ruler, whose name is lost (ll. 1–6); this section is followed by the mention of four eponymous office-holders,first the representative of the Roman power (ll. 7 f., no. 1: P. Alphius Maximus hēgemeuōn), then three Galatian cult officials (ll. 8–12, nos. 2–4: high priest, sebastophantis (sic: feminine), hierophantēs). This prescript is followed by a list of the other ninety-two bouleutai (ll. 13–63, two columns, nos. 5–96); the official who is mentioned as having set up the statue and the accompanying inscription in the postscript (ll. 64–8, no. 97) is identical with no. 15. Altogether, ninety-five individual Galatians were thus mentioned (nos. 2–96), but the names of two persons have been lost completely (ll. 57 R, 58 R), and those of three more do not allow us to determine their civic status (nos. 67, 77, 91). Moreover, 203 individual names have been preserved either completely or fragmentarily, including the names of sixty-two fathers and one grandfather (no. 43); of these, seven (p.94) resist a meaningful classification.51While it is unfortunate that the date of the inscription is highly controversial (previous suggestions vary between AD 102 and 213, i.e. the fourth consulships of Trajan or Caracalla respectively), the onomastic evidence most clearly refers us to AD 98, when Nerva was consul for the fourth time, without firmly excluding the alternative of AD 102.52

Compared to the earlier priest list, the proportion of citizens has gone up from 12 per cent to 21 per cent, not, of course, among the whole population, but the elite. The following ‘imperial’ nomina gentilia are attested (those in a non-Roman onomastic formula are {bracketed}): Iulios: nos. 4, 8, {14}; Klaudios: nos. 3, 5, 15 = 97, 16, 54, 78, 92; Flavios: nos. 9, 10. The overwhelming presence of the nomen Claudii is best explained by the assumption that the most influential Galatians of royal stock received their citizenship from Claudius or Nero, for which there is substantial additional evidence.53 The relatively small impact of the Flavians is surprising, given their concentration on the eastern frontier and the push that this implied for the urbanisation of Galatia. However, some newcomers may simply not yet have found their ways into the koinon council.

We do not find a single Kokkeios or Ulpios among the bouleutai, even though such men are well attested from the early second century.54 This I take as the strongest argument for an early date of the inscription (AD 98). However, doing so requires us not to count the one attestation of Ailios (no. 4) and the two or three of Annios ({87bis}, 69? An[ ) as ‘imperial’. For, otherwise, we (p.95) would have to accept a date between AD 146 and 161, i.e. the fourth consulate and the death of Antoninus Pius, as is now the view of the editors Mitchell and French.

But, to start with, Antoninus Pius no longer officially used his nomen gentile Annius after his adoption by Hadrian in AD 138, which would effectively disqualify this nomen as an argument for AD 146/161. In addition, councillor no. 87 was Annios, son of Annios, so that neither of them was a Roman citizen. Apparently, their names go back to M. Annius Afrinus, the governor of AD 49–54. Next, only a single Ailios and no Kokkeios or Ulpios would be quite awkward in a sample of 196 names among mid-second-century aristocrats. Moreover, Iulios Ailios Iulianos (no. 4) bears two nomina gentilia, the only instance in this inscription. For a reason not yet clear to me, most such anomalies attested in Ankyra contain Ailios. It would at any rate be unwise to postulate a grant of citizenship by Hadrian or Pius to someone called Iulios Ailios Iulianos. Possibly a Iulios started to use the nomen Ailii for himself or his son to honour an otherwise unattested Roman official,but probably to continue an epichoric naming pattern that still needs to be uncovered.55

At all events, the impact of provincial governors on onomastic practices among the Galatian aristocracy remained strong: seven out of twenty-two non-imperial nomina gentilia are attested among the bouleutai or their fathers in the inscription of AD 98.56 The number is much more significant than it might seem at first glance, since about a third of all governors prior to AD 98 are unknown today, and in several more cases we do not have all their names, so that the effective percentage might be much higher. Moreover, our evidence for other officials such as legati legionis or procuratores, who may also have established friendship or patronage relations that had an impact on name choices, is minimal. Yet another group that has left visible traces in the onomastic corpus of the Galatian aristocracy are the nobles from the Roman colonies in the southern parts of the province, most of all Antioch AD Pisidiam, though there was some overlap between those men and Roman officials.57

(p.96) The popularity of names of high-ranking office-holders becomes even more apparent if we look at the reception of (former) cognomina. In this category, imperial cognomina or derivatives of imperial nomina gentilia are attested four times. Of all other instances, no fewer than twenty-two out of forty-seven nomina unica or cognomina (excluding former or effective praenomina) can be firmly ascribed to previous governors we know of.58 The nicest example is that of Frontōn, son of Basilas (no. 60): the former ultimately owed his name to Octavius Fronto leg. Aug. AD 4–8, the latter to T. Helvius Basila leg. Aug. AD 12–16. Even though by far the majority of those Roman names was borne by non-citizens, this naming practice seems to reflect the attempt of many Galatian aristocrats to establish longer-term personal bonds with Roman governors.

In total, 55 per cent of all the individual names are identifiable as Roman, 38 per cent as Greek, 5 per cent as Celtic, and 3 per cent as Micro-Asiatic. Compared to the list of Sebastos priests discussed above, this shows a clear progress of cultural Romanisation, even though the increase of Roman citizens was still very moderate at that time (22 per cent). However, 30 per cent of 196 names seem to continue a Celtic naming practice behind a Roman or Greek façade, and 20 per cent likewise represent a ‘covered’ Micro-Asian tradition. These figures are nearly as high as a century previously. At least one Roman or Greek name in two continued to be deliberately chosen to satisfy both the desire for a prestige-laden ‘modern’ name and also a traditional expectation. If we exclude Roman imperial names, the proportion of such ‘hidden’ incentives is even higher, with a more pronounced predilection for Roman names among Celts and for Greek names among Phrygians.

List of bouleutai under Marcus Aurelius (c. AD 170)

The latest list that comprises a substantial number of names was discovered on the surface of a slab built into the Kale of Ankyra. Discovered and deciphered with the aid of a telescope in the nineteenth century, it is now lost. Without excluding the possibility that the list had originally extended over two slabs, the documentation we have allows us to conclude that originally at least sixty name formulae were inscribed. Fifty-one of them have been transmitted complete or at least in meaningful fragments that allow us to determine the civic status of their bearers. One hundred and fourteen individual names or fragments thereof permit further linguistic classification.No introductory or (p.97) concluding section helps us determine the nature of the inscription, but given the size of the group and the social stratum reflected in the names, it seems to be more than only a ‘list of dedicants’, rather presenting a further record of the koinon council.59

While the proportion of Roman citizens had still been at 21 per cent some seventy years before, it has now risen to an impressive 59 per cent. The following eighteen ‘imperial’ nomina gentilia are attested: Iulios: 18, {21}, 28, 33?, 34?; Klaudios: 3, 23, 24; Flavios: 19 (or Iulios?), 26, 46, 48; Kokkeios: 57; Ulpios: 42 (with Ailios); Ailios: 35, 42 (with Ulpios); Aurelios: 6, 47. This continuous flow of imperial names seems to reflect a slow but steady increase of Roman citizenship among the Galatian aristocracy. It is not surprising that the number of Klaudioi was gradually decreasing a century after the extinction of the dynasty or that there were more Flavioi around AD 170 than in 98, when some families emerging under the Flavians had not yet secured seats in the koinon council. However, what is in need of explanation is the significant increase of Iulioi. A closer inspection of the family relations of G. Iulios Severos cos. suff. 138 or 139 will reveal that they owed much of their prominence in the second century to intermarriage with the Klaudioi Severoi and other nobles throughout Anatolia, which apparently brought about an unheard-of accumulation of wealth (see Appendix at the end of this chapter).

Three nomina gentilia that are further attested in the list seem to go back to two previous governors, the aforementioned Cornutus Arruntius Aquila (nos. 13, 17) and (no. 4) either P. Valerius Patruinus, who was leg. Aug. or held a different high function in AD 84?–86?, or M. Valerius Italus, whose tenure cannot be specified,but whose cognomen also found its way into the Galatian aristocracy.60 But as in our previous examples, the cognomina of provincial governors were more appealing to Galatian aristocrats, whether or not they enjoyed Roman citizenship: our sample offers seven attestations as (p.98) compared to two ‘imperial’ cognomina.61 To these numbers, one may add two or three derivatives of names of governors or emperors.62 In contrast, only six (former) cognomina remain that have not (yet) been attributed to either a governor or an emperor.63

In total, sixty-eight Roman (65 per cent), thirty Greek (29 per cent), three Celtic (3 per cent) and three Micro-Asiatic (3 per cent) names are attested in the list of bouleutai under Marcus Aurelius. The further increase in Roman names appears to be a continuation of the first-century development, though in the course of the second century this happened more aggressively at the cost of traditional Celtic names. However, this statistic may be slightly distorted, since the many incerta will probably include a higher proportion of non-Roman and non-Greek names, which were less likely to be inscribed or read correctly. At all events, a similar trend is visible in the decline of the use of ‘cover names’: only 20 per cent of the names of either classical language seem to correspond to traditional Celtic naming patterns, and no more than 11 per cent to comparable Micro-Asiatic schemes. However, a further seven Greek and two Roman names (which is 9 per cent of the total) show an overlap of Celtic and Micro-Asiatic traditions. In sum, forty-one of the ninety-eight Roman or Greek names (i.e. 40 per cent of 94 per cent of the total) seem to continue a ‘covered’ Celtic, Anatolian or Phrygian onomastic tradition in the second half of the second century.

Local and Social Variations

The preceding three case studies have been chosen precisely because they reveal insights into large and quite evenly structured strata of the Galatian elites. While being quite heterogeneous in the third and second centuries BC, they were first assembled at the Oak Forest (Drynemeton) probably in the time of Mithridates VI and later reunited under Deiotaros I by 41 BC, before being unified for good in the cult of Theos Sebastos in 5 BC. After the inclusion of various neighbouring communities, they were reorganised as the koinon of the Galatians around AD 60. The existence of minor or even major local variations is a reasonable assumption, since the different proportions of ethnic groups, unequal resources in the hands of their chieftains, as well as distinct geopolitical conditions and economic opportunities, would result in varying paths and paces of intercultural processes, along with some shared cultural (p.99) heritage and overarching empire-wide trends. Such nuances in fact are reflectedin the archaeological, epigraphic and numismatic evidence, as well as in the onomastic data. I shall confine myself to presenting two examples.

The Upper-Middle Class of High-Imperial Ankyra64

As far as I can see, no study has hitherto tried to describe the ethnic background and cultural predilections of the Tektosagian elite centred in and around Ankyra by distinguishing between documents that specifically relate to them and those that reflect the broader Galatian community. Of interest in this context is the commemoration of the late Lateinia Kleopatra by the twelve phylarchs of Ankyra, which probably dates to AD 135/138. Admittedly, the sample of persons and their names is small: no more than twelve individuals with twenty-four names; but the fact that the phylarchs have been recruited quite evenly from across the civic territory counterbalances the potentially distorting effect of random. However, it should be pointed out that the phylarchs represented the (upper stratum of the) civic middle class, whereas the bouleutai of the koinon were drawn from the one or two hundred leading families of the Galatian tribes. Five out of the twelve phylarchs were Roman citizens (42 per cent), a figurethat seems to match the mean of the two available figures for the koinon impressively well (22 per cent vs. 59 per cent, averaging at 40.5 per cent). Such a high proportion would probably not be achieved by the (certainly smaller) middle classes of Pessinous or Tavion. It is best explained by the many opportunities that Ankyra offered for social upward mobility, in combination with its attractiveness for Roman veterans.

Less consistent are our comparative samples, when it comes to linguistic classification.However, at first glance, the percentage of Roman names (54 per cent) appears to be pretty much in line with the count among the bouleutai of AD 98 (55 per cent). One might suggest that it would even match the mean of 60 per cent (65 per cent were attested around AD 170), if the Roman names had not been edited artificially in the inscription to the format nomen gentile + cognomen (omitting praenomen). Allowing for only two praenomina among the five Roman citizens, Roman names would have been up to 15 out of 26 (62.5 per cent). But this would of course bring the proportion of Greek names further down from 29 per cent to 27 per cent, as compared to 38 per cent in the later list. The main reason for this low level is the surprising popularity of Celtic names (17 per cent), compared to 5 per cent in AD 98 and 3 per cent around AD 170. One reason will be that the bouleutai lists include individuals (p.100) from Pessinous whereas the Lateinia Kleopatra list is confined to Ankyrans; there will have been a higher percentage of Celts in Ankyra than in Pessinous, where the Phrygian priestly aristocracy of Cybele must have continued to be strong. Though certainly distorted, the lack of any Micro-Asiatic name in Kleopatra's inscription is at least in line with the overall tendency.

A second explanation, if only tentative at this stage, might be that aristocrats were more inclined to use Roman or Greek names for their higher prestige. This would at least be consistent with the next observation: names with a ‘covered’ epichoric background still seem to account for 59 per cent among the phylarchs of AD 135/138, while they had already been down to 53 per cent among the bouleutai of AD 98 and would further drop to 40 per cent by c. AD 170.

Be this as it may, in all four cases, including the early imperial priest list from Ankyra, the number of Celtic names was significantly higher than that of Micro-Asiatic ones, mostly about twice as high, whereas the secondary linguistic attribution of a Roman or Greek name to a Celtic background occurs about 50 per cent more often than to a Micro-Asiatic context.

Table 6.1. Growth of Roman citizenship in High Imperial Galatia.

Inscription

Date

Reference

Total of individuals

Roman citizens (%)

IAnkara 2

5 BC–AD 19

Sebastos priests

17

12

IAnkara 8

AD 98

koinon council

90

21

IAnkara 81

c. AD 135/8

Phylarchs of Ankyra

12

42

IAnkara 9

c. AD 170

koinon council

51

59

Table 6.2. Linguistic distribution of personal names in High Imperial Galatia.

Inscription

Total of

names

% Roman

% Greek

First + (second) linguistic attribution

% Celt. + (Celt.)

% M-Asian +

(M-Asian)

% (other epich.

trad.)

IAnkara 2

32

25

53

19 + (34)

3 + (19)

(17)

IAnkara 8

196

55

38

5 + (30)

3 + (20)

(3)

IAnkara 81

24

54

29

17 + (29)

0 + (17)

(13)

IAnkara 9

104

65

29

3 + (20)

3 + (11)

(9)

Ethnic Naming Patterns in the Countryside65

Some of the first Sebastos priests seem to be attributable to either a Celtic or a Phrygian background, whereas other cases imply that intermarriage had started many generations before. And by the time the epigraphic evidence from (p.101) the three major cities starts to flow continuously, Galatian identity appears to have become fully inclusive of the Micro-Asiatic population and their cultural heritage. When the process of social integration and interculturalisation started is still a matter of dispute. While some scholars believe that the Phrygians had been amalgamated with the Galatian conquerors by 200 bc, others point to dispersed evidence that attests to continued ethnic diversity until the second century ad.66

A study of naming practices throughout the Galatian countryside has yielded interesting results to stimulate this ongoing debate. The source basis for this scrutiny is formed by a few hundred funerary inscriptions and votive dedications scattered throughout the villages of north-western Galatia and collected by S. Mitchell (RECAM II). The majority date to the second century ad, a few slightly earlier, and of the many that are of a later date only a few attest relevant names. The inscriptions reveal some settlements where the personal names show, if on a smaller scale, an intercultural mix similar to Ankyra. However, a number of villages in fact show mainly Celtic, Greek and Roman, or Micro-Asiatic, Greek and Roman names. Given the very limited number of inscriptions and names that have survived from those rural communities, one must not press the evidence too hard unless there are additional indications that confirm the view of ethnic division.

The first tool is provided by mapping the data. This reveals that clear clusters of mainly Micro-Asiatic names are found especially in the settlements around Germa west of Gordion, whereas the territory around Ankyra shows a predominant use of Celtic names. Another map shows the distribution of Greek and Roman names that are related to ‘hidden’ Celtic and Micro-Asiatic traditions. At least in most cases, a significant overlap between clusters of manifest and of ‘hidden’ Celtic and Micro-Asiatic names emerges. In a final approach, all available further data, such as toponymics,67 ethnics and theonymics were also mapped according to their linguistic background. Once more, the result was for the most part in line with the clusters that had emerged previously. While the method of classification may still need refinement and the sample of inscriptions should be further enlarged, it is difficult to deny that the population (or at least the elite) of several villages still showed a consistent use of either Celtic or Micro-Asiatic names in the second century ad. A certain awareness of ethnic diversity must be reflected in these data.

Outlook on the Christianisation of Galatian Names

Like many other aspects of everyday life, the epigraphic habit changed as dramatically in Galatia as in most other areas of the eastern Roman Empire over the course of the third century ad. This is not to say that people ceased to inscribe stones, but by far the most frequent epigraphic items they produced from then on were funerary inscriptions. On average, these were shorter and more formulaic than second-century specimens had been.68 The first change most impressively reflected in the naming practice was caused by the Constitutio Antoniniana: in AD 212, the emperor M. Aurelius Antoninus Caracalla bestowed citizenship on all free inhabitants of the empire. Most of them honoured him by taking on his nomen gentile, for which nearly a hundred cases are attested in central Galatia.69 However, after such a brief explosion of this name, it was barely used one or two generations after the grant. In fact, the whole Roman naming system quite quickly fell into disuse. From the end of the third century, most funerary inscriptions only mention single names, often without a patronymic. ‘Traditional’ names, which by then also included Greek and Roman, did of course not disappear altogether, though the variety among them shrank significantly. Celtic names vanished nearly completely in the third century,70 as did most of the once prestige-laden nomina gentilia.

Not only the form but also the content changed, when, by the end of this watershed-century, another deep change finally began to be reflected in personal naming practice. Most inhabitants of Asia Minor were now Christians, whether as converts or having been born into this creed. Ecclesiastical history had begun with the arrival of the apostle Paul as early as the mid-first century in Galatia. The rise of the ‘heresy’ of Montanism should be understood as a testimony to the vivacity of Christian spirituality in second-century Ankyra.71

One of the main sources that the ‘new’ names were drawn from was the New Testament: Hebrew Iōannēs (with its many variations, such as Iōannos, (p.103) Ioannis, Iōannē) became the most popular male,72 Maria the preferred female name. The most widespread Latin-biblical name among the Galatians was, unsurprisingly, Paulos. But, ultimately, the evangelisation of Anatolia went along with the final victory of the Greek language for several centuries to come, even in Ankyra, one of the most Roman of Anatolian cities. Of no little impact were the Gospel and the Acts of Luke: Stephanos (Acts 7), the (skilfully designed) arch-martyr, whose name ‘Garlanded (Winner)’ transformed pagan into Christian victory ideology, became the namesake of many; likewise did the keen-to-learn dedicatee of Luke's writings, the (fictitious?)Theophilos, as much the ‘God-Loving’ as the ‘Beloved-by-God’. Even more frequent were other ‘divine’ compounds, such as Theodotos ‘God-Given’ and Theodoulos ‘God-Servant’, which are deeply entrenched in Old Testament imagery and spirituality.73 Similarly, the theme of ‘Lordship’ yielded a variety of further names based on Greek kyrios (the opposite of doulos), including derivatives such as Kyrillos or even Kyriakos, which goes back to kyriakē (ekklēsia) ‘(Assembly) of the Lord’ (whence English ‘church’).74 The most fashionable abstract concept that appealed as a personal name was ‘Hope’ (Elpis, Elpidios).

A look into the indices of the currently available epigraphic corpora of the Ankara region will yield several dozen attestations, which it would be tedious to list here. And, taken together, these will easily demonstrate how Christian names irreversibly superseded all previous onomastic traditions—perhaps with the notable exception of the Micro-Asiatic obsession with theophoric names, which were apparently ‘baptised’ successfully. The many editions of inscriptions currently in preparation75 will not only add to this argument in quantitative terms, but, offering more precise information about chronological and geographical distribution, will be, together with LGPN V C, invaluable (p.104) tools for uncovering the mechanisms of a process that started slowly, but ultimately developed into the deepest and most lasting ‘revolution’ in onomastic history. Whether this may even have started in central Anatolia may then be discussed. What is already clear is that Galatia fully shared this development with the other provinces of the eastern Mediterranean from early on—centuries before Christian names would conquer the Germanic kingdoms in the west.76

Note. My interest in the Galatians originates in the Trier-based research project The Foreign Friends of Rome (SFB 600-A2: director: Heinz Heinen), to which I contributed as a research associate (2002–8). A scholarship of the Humboldt Foundation allowed me to continue working on the Galatians at Exeter with my host Stephen Mitchell (2009, 2011). A Standard Research Grant of the Social Sciences and Humanities Council of Canada (SSHRC) currently supports my project New History of Ancient Galatia at the Waterloo Institute for Hellenistic Studies (WIHS) (2011–15). To all of the aforementioned colleagues and institutions, I would like to express my deep gratitude, which I would like to further extend to Robert Parker for his invitation to contribute to this collaborative volume, and for patiently bearing with me.

Appendix: The Ancestors of G. Iulios Severos

The Iulioi Severoi of the second century AD were arguably the most famous Galatians ever after the death of Amyntas. The first attested name-bearer, G. Iulios Severos, born around AD 85–90, not only managed to become agoranomos, agōnothetēs, sebastophantēs, and high priest of the koinon in his (early) twenties, but was also able to offer more lavish benefactions in these capacities than everyone before him—at least this is what is claimed in his honorary inscriptions. Possibly by the same time, he even acquired the title of prōtos Hellēnōn—the first person ever known to have borne this distinction.77 Most importantly, he ingratiated himself with Trajan in AD 113/114, when he hosted part of the imperial army on their way to the Armenian and Parthian wars, and later probably made himself dear also to Hadrian (117?, 124?). For, under the latter, he embarked on a most distinguished senatorial career: after his adlectio inter tribunicios (124? or 127?), he became legate with a special mission in Asia, then legatus legionis IV Scythicae (with a temporary military command in Syria during the Jewish War), proconsul of Achaea, corrector Bithyniae, praefectus aerarii Saturnini, consul suffectus in AD 138 or 139, pontifex, curator (for public constructions in Rome), leg. Aug. pro pr. Germaniae inferioris (AD 142/150), before reaching the pinnacle of his career as proconsul of Asia in 152/153. If only nominally, he was solely surpassed by his homonymous son, who became ordinary consul in AD 155.78 (p.105) The latter is in all likelihood identical with the bouleutēs no. 18 of the koinon list composed under Marcus Aurelius.79 It may well be that these Iulioi Severoi were even the ancestors of Iulia Aquilia Severa, the wife of the Emperor Elagabalus (AD 218–22).80 According to his honorary inscriptions, the elder Severos was an offspring of kings and tetrarchs, such as Deiotaros, Amyntas and Attalos.

Given this spectacular prominence, it is astonishing how little we actually know about Severos' father Iulios Kodratos: neither his praenomen nor his wife's name is attested, let alone any priesthood or office in the imperial administration. He is not even mentioned among the several famous relatives listed in Severos' honorary inscriptions in Ankyra.81 Hence he seems to have fathered Severos at a young age and died without becoming even high priest.82 An alternative explanation would be to regard him as an affluent and well-connected Roman veteran who settled in central Galatia during the Flavian period. This would at least explain the Latin cognomen Quadratus whose appearance in Ankyra still awaits a plausible explanation.83

It is further surprising that no other Iulios Severos is attested in first-century Galatia, not even among the earliest Sebastos priests whose tenures fall between 5 bc and AD 19, or the bouleutai of the koinon in AD 98. It would thus seem highly speculative to hypothesise that Iulios Kodratos was the son of a *Iulios Severos, whose father would have been enfranchised by Augustus.84 While most scholars would agree with a grant of Roman citizenship under the first emperor, they would also quite vaguely refer to the wide web of intermarriage (and possibly also adoption) that connected the Ankyran family of G. Iulios Severos throughout Asia Minor. As revealed by the rich epigraphic record, they seem to have had especially close links to the Plankioi in Pamphylian Perge and the Servenioi Kapitones in Phrygian Akmoneia, with the Servenioi Kornutioi apparently linking all three cities. In fact, the majority of the adduced connections are highly suggestive, but remain undemonstrated. In particular, there is no evidence whether the forebear of Iulios Kodratos had been enfranchised by Caesar, Augustus, Tiberius or Gaius Caligula.

Be this as it may, at least some more light can be shed on those intricate family relations: in all likelihood, the cognomen of G. Iulios Severos is owed to the Klaudioi Severoi from Paphlagonian Pompeiopolis: Ti. Klaudios Severos was a man of consular rank (by adlection?) under the Flavians; his son Gaios reached the suffect consulship in (p.106) AD 112. At least four further descendants named Klaudioi Severoi are attested as consuls as late as AD 235, after two of them had married into the house of Marcus Aurelius.85 Since they were of the tribus Quirinia, just as Ti. Klaudios Heras and his son Ti. Klaudios Attis Deiotaros, they were most likely also descendants of the dynasty of King Deiotaros I Philorhomaios, whose offspring Deiotaros III Philadelphos and IV Philopator II had been kings of Paphlagonia c.37–6 bc. Possibly they even had the same father, *Ti. Klaudios Severos, who would have been enfranchised early under Claudius. Heras had been both a distinguished priest of the Pessinuntian Cybele and the first'high’ priest of Sebastos right after the foundation of the koinon around AD 60. He may have embarked on his equestrian career under Vespasian.

It would seem that the high priestess Iulia Severa attested in Akmoneia under Nero as the daughter of a G. Iulios and the wife of L. Servenios Kapito was—through her unknown mother—a granddaughter of *Ti. Klaudios Severos. In theory, the latter—or perhaps his son G. Iulios Severos cos. suff. AD 112—may have been the father-in-law of Iulios Kodratos and thus the grandfather of G. Iulios Severos cos. suff. 138 or 139. Admittedly, certainty cannot be achieved, and new epigraphic findswill possibly change or confirmthis reconstruction. At any rate, the suggestions unfolded here would help us better understand both the lack of Iulioi Severoi in the first-centuryevidence for Ankyra and their rise—and that of other related Iulioi—in the second century.

Notes:

(1) For Galatian toponymics, which are not discussed in this paper, see below, n. 67.—The following special abbreviations are used: ACS = A.Th. Holder, Alt-celtischer Sprachschatz, 3 vols. (Leipzig, 1896–1913); APR = A. Coş kun (ed.), Amici Populi Romani. Prosopography of the Foreign Friends of Rome (SFB 600, Trier 2007–08; and WIHS, Waterloo ON, 2010–), at http://apr.uwaterloo.ca; DLG2 = X. Delamarre, Dictionnaire de la langue gauloise2 (Paris, 2003); GL = P. Freeman, The Galatian Language (Lewiston, 2001); GS = L. Weisgerber, ‘Galatische Sprachreste’, in R.W.O. Helm (ed.), Natalicium. Johannes Geffken zum 70. Geburtstag (Heidelberg, 1931), 151–75; GTHW = A. Coşkun (ed.), Genealogical Tables of the Hellenistic World (WIHS, Waterloo ON, 2012 ff.), at http://wihs.uwaterloo.ca/genealogical-tables; KGPN = K.H. Schmidt, ‘Die Komposition in gallischen Personennamen’, Zeitschrift für celtische Philologie 26 (1957), 33–301.

(2) The most comprehensive account of a millennium of Galatian history is S. Mitchell, Anatolia, I (Oxford, 1993); for a short version see A. Coşkun, ‘Belonging and Isolation in Central Anatolia: The Galatians in the Graeco-Roman World’, in S. Ager and R. Faber (eds.), Belonging and Isolation in the Hellenistic World (Toronto, 2013), 73–95. For an exhaustive bibliographical survey see A. Coşkun, ‘Von Anatolia bis Inscriptions of Ankara: Zwanzig Jahre Forschungen zum antiken Galatien (1993–2012)’, forthcoming in Anatolica 39 (2013).

(3) For Hellenistic Galatia see F. Stähelin, Geschichte der kleinasiatischen Galater2 (Leipzig, 1907); D. Magie, Roman Rule in Asia Minor to the End of the Third Century after Christ, 2 vols. (Princeton NJ, 1950); P. Moraux, ‘L'établissement des Galates en Asie Mineure’, IstMitt 7 (1957), 56–75; G. Nachtergael, Les Galates en Grèce et les Sôtéria de Delphes (Brussels, 1977); K. Strobel, Die Galater, I (Berlin, 1996); id., ‘Die Staatenbildung bei den kleinasiatischen Galatern’, in H. Blum et al. (eds.), Brückenland Anatolien? (Tübingen, 2002), 231–93; G. Darbyshire and S. Mitchell, ‘The Galatian Settlement in Asia Minor’, in Anadolu Medeniyetleri Müzesi (Ankara, 1999), 163–98; K. Tomaschitz, Die Wanderungen der Kelten in der antiken literarischen Überlieferung (Vienna, 2002); A. Coşkun, ‘Galatians and Seleucids: A Century of Conflictand Cooperation’, in K. Erickson and G. Ramsey (eds.), Seleucid Dissolution: Fragmentation and Transformation of Empire (Wiesbaden, 2011), 85–106.

(4) Many details of this account depart from traditional views (as under nn. 2–3 above); cf. A. Coşkun, ‘Amicitiae und politische Ambitionen im Kontext der causa Deiotariana’, in id. (ed.), Roms auswärtige Freunde in der späten Republik und im frühen Prinzipat (Göttingen, 2005), 127–54; id. (ed.), APR; id., ‘Das Ende der “romfreundlichen” Herrschaft in Galatien und das Beispiel einer “sanften” Provinzialisierung in Zentralanatolien’, in id. (ed.), Freundschaft und Gefolgschaft in den auswärtigen Beziehungen der Römer (2. Jh. v.Chr.—1. Jh. n.Chr.) (Frankfurt a.M., 2008), 133–64; id., ‘Annäherungen an die galatische Elite der hellenistischen Zeit’, in B. Dreyer and P.F. Mittag (eds.), Lokale Eliten und hellenistische Könige (Berlin, 2011), 80–104; id., ‘Galatians and Seleucids’. On Amyntas see S. Mitchell, ‘Termessos, King Amyntas, and the War with the Sandaliôtai. A New Inscription from Pisidia’, in D. French (ed.), Studies in the History and Topography of Lycia and Pisidia. In Memoriam A.S. Hall (Ankara, 1994), 95–105.

(5) On the Roman province see Magie, Roman Rule; Mitchell, Anatolia; id., ‘Römische Macht im frühkaiserzeitlichen Ankara. Verwaltung oder Herrschaft?’, in R. Haensch and J. Heinrichs (eds.), Herrschen und Verwalten: Der Alltag der römischen Administration in der Hohen Kaiserzeit (Cologne, 2007), 366–77; K. Strobel, ‘Die Galater und Galatien: Historische Identität und ethnische Tradition im Imperium Romanum’, Klio 89.2 (2007), 356–402; Coşkun, ‘Ende der “romfreundlichen”Herrschaft’; id., ‘Der Ankyraner Kaiserkult und die Transformation galatischer und phrygisch-galatischer Identitäten in Zentralanatolien im Spiegel der Münzquellen’, in id. et al. (eds.), Repräsentation von Identität und Zugehörigkeit im Osten der griechisch-römischen Welt (Frankfurt, 2009), 173–211.

(6) Tavion: Strobel/Gerber, IstMitt 50 (2000), 215–65. Pessinous: J. Devreker and M. Waelkens, Les Fouilles de la Rijksuniversiteit te Gent a Pessinonte, 1967–1973, 2 vols. (Bruges, 1984); IPessinous; I. Claerhout and J. Devreker, Pessinous: An Archaeological Guide (Istanbul, 2008). Gordion: L. Kealhofer (ed.), The Archaeology of Midas and the Phrygians: Recent Works at Gordion (Philadelphia, 2005). Ankyra: E. Bosch, Quellen zur Geschichte der Stadt Ankara im Altertum (Ankara, 1967); J. Bennett, ‘The Political and Physical Topography of Early Imperial Graeco-Roman Ancyra’, Anatolica 32 (2006), 189–227; M. Kadıοğlu, K. Görkay and S. Mitchell, Roman Ancyra (Istanbul, 2011); IAnkara. However, for substantial modifications,see Coşkun, ‘Zwanzig Jahre Forschungen’; id., ‘Ankyraner Kaiserkult’.

(7) See nn. 5–6, plus some further modificationsby A. Coşkun, ‘Interkulturelle Ortsnamen in Zentralkleinasien und Galatische Geschichte’, in W. Ahrens et al. (eds.), Names in Multi-Lingual, Multi-Cultural and Multi-Ethnic Contact (Toronto, 2009), 243–53.

(8) For source corpora, see especially Bosch, Ankara; Tomaschitz, Wanderungen der Kelten; M. Arslan, The Coins of the Galatian Kingdom and the Roman Coinage of Ancyra in Galatia (Ankara, 2004); IYozgat; IPessinous; IAnkara. For a more complete survey see Coşkun, ‘Zwanzig Jahre Forschungen’.

(9) L. Robert, ‘L'onomastique grecque’, in id. (ed. D. Rousset), Choix d'écrits (Paris, 2007), 148.—On my project, see the acknowledgment note at the end of this chapter.

(10) See e.g. Strobel, Die Galater, esp. 139–61; id., ‘Staatenbildung’; id., ‘Historische Identität’;P. Sims-Williams, ‘Celtomania and Celtoscepticism’, in Cambrian Medieval Studies 36 (1998), 1–35; S. Mitchell, ‘Ethnicity, Acculturation and Empire in Roman and Late Roman Asia Minor’, in id. and G. Greatrex (eds.), Ethnicity and Culture in Late Antiquity (Swansea, 2000), 117–50; J.T. Koch, An Atlas for Celtic Studies: Archaeology and Names in Ancient Europe and Early Medieval Ireland, Britain, and Brittany (Oxford, 2007), 1–17; T. Derks and N. Roymans (eds.), Ethnic Constructs in Antiquity: The Role of Power and Tradition (Amsterdam, 2009); Coşkun, ‘Belonging and Isolation’.

(11) Strobel, ‘Staatenbildung’, 250–3 (cf. id., ‘Historische Identität’, 356 f.) claims a thorough ‘Galatization’ of the Phrygians under Galatian control by 200 BC, but this may only be true for some areas, while ethnic distinction seems to have prevailed in others even for centuries to come: see A. Coşkun, ‘Intercultural Anthroponomy in Hellenistic and Roman Galatia’, Gephyra 9 (2012), 51–68; id., ‘Belonging and Isolation’; also Darbyshire and Mitchell, ‘Galatian Settlement’.

(12) On Phrygian history, language and culture, see e.g. J. Strubbe, ‘Les noms indigènes à Pessinonte (1)’, Talanta 10/11 (1978/79), 112–45; C. Brixhe, ‘La langue comme critère d'acculturation: l'exemple du grec d'un district phrygien’, Hethitica 8 (1985), 45–80; id., ‘Le Phrygien’, in F. Bader (ed.), Langues indo-européennes (Paris, 2002), 165–78; P. Frei, ‘Die epichorischen Namen im griechisch-römischen Inschriftenbestand der Region von Eskişehir’, in H. Otten et al. (eds.), Hittite and Other Anatolian and Near Eastern Studies in Honour of Sedat Alp (Ankara, 1992), 181–91; L. Innocente, ‘Questioni di onomastica “frigia” ’, in R. Gusmani et al. (eds.), Frigi e Frigio (Rome, 1997), 33–40; Kealhofer (ed.), Archaeology of Midas.

(13) Coşkun, ‘Galatians and Seleucids’, 100f.; id., ‘Zwanzig Jahre Forschungen’, nn. 38f., with Strobel, Die Galater, 184–6; id., ‘Staatenbildung’, 22.

(14) The easiest access to Celtic personal names in Galatia is provided by GL (for the abbreviations in this note see n. 1 above), despite several omissions, but also additions for the eastern Mediterranean world. Still indispensable, though difficult to use and partly outdated, is ACS; see also GS. For studies in Galatian names, see W. Dressler, ‘Galatisches’, in W. Meid (ed.), Beiträge zur Indogermanistik und Keltologie (Innsbruck, 1967), 147–54; K.H. Schmidt, ‘Galatische Sprachreste’, in E. Schwertheim (ed.), Forschungen in Galatien (Bonn, 1994), 15–28; Coşkun, ‘Intercultural Anthroponomy’. Studies on Gaulish personal names, such as by D. Ellis Evans, Gaulish Personal Names (Oxford, 1967), KGPN, and DLG2 are still indispensable.

(15) An interesting example comes from the court of Syrian Antioch where two powerful Celts (Polyaenus, Strat. 8.50: ‘Galatians’) are attested in 246 BC. One of them is called Icadion, the other Genneus by Porph. FGrH 260 F 43.16, but Caeneus by Val. Max. 9.10 ext. 1: the former is Celtic, the latter an adaptation to the name of the Greek hero Kaineus; Jacoby suggests yet another Hellenised version: Genn<a>eus. I doubt that the son of king Ortiagon was really called Paidopolitēs (Suda s.v. Paidopolitēs): if a Greek compound (‘Child Citizen’), it would be completely isolated in Greek onomastics; probably, it is Greekish adaptation of Celtic Bēpolitanos (Plut. Mor. 259 b–c, 86 BC).

(16) We cannot exclude the possibility that this was the case with the ‘Galatians’ Apaturios (Polyb. 4.48.8; also Pompeius Trogus, Prol. 27; 223 BC) and Lysimachos (Polyb. 5.79.11; 217 BC) who served under the Seleucids; cf. Coşkun, ‘Galatians and Seleucids’, 99. Of further interest is the case of the tetrarch Domnekleios (Strab. 12.3.6), whom Caesar calls by the Latinised version Domnilaus (bciv. 3.4.5); cf. Coşkun, APR s.v.; id., ‘Intercultural Anthroponomy’, 59; and see below, at n. 38 and n. 74.

(17) Liv. 38.19.2: erant autem tunc trium populorum reguli Or<t>iago et Combo<i>omarus et Gau<d>otus (codd. Gaulotus). Apparently, Livy followed a corrupt version of Polybius' account, which is now lost (but cf. 21.37.1, 8 f. on Eposognatos and 21.38.1; 22.21.1 on Ortiagon); see also Plut. Mor. 258 d.—Epo-so-gnatos: DLG2 163 f. ‘qui-s'y-connaît-en-chevaux’, or ‘Né d'Eposos’; APR s.v.—Orti-agōn: DLG2 244 s.v. ortu-‘jeune animal’?; ACS II 880 f.; GL 59.—Combo<i>omarus (or Comb<ar>omarus, codd. Combolomarus): Stähelin, Geschichte, 55; ACS I 1071. On co(m)-, see ACS I 1068; DLG2 121. On boios, see DLG2 82 ‘frappeur, terrible’, ou ‘actif, vivant’?, with parallels such as Boiorix, Boicalus; see also below on Adobogiōna and Tolistobogioi. On maros, see DLG 2 218 f. maros ‘grand’. For the alternative emendation, see Gaulish Combaromarus (CIL 13,3183); ACS I 1071; DLG2 67 f. bar(i)o-‘colère, fureur, passion’ (‘Le Très Furieux’); GL 38f.—Gau<d>otus (codd. Gaulotus): ACS I 1990 f. reads Gaulotus, but the parallels offered to support a Celtic etymology are as unconvincing as those adduced in GS 154 n. 4 for an Anatolian background. For the correction, see Stähelin, Geschichte, 116; Robert, Noms indigènes, 261–3; Dressler, ‘Galatisches’, 151; RECAM II 113 (Gaudatos); GL 56 n. 129. Further support may be gained through the frequent Gaulish toponym Gaudiacus (cf. also Gaugiacus), which is traced back less convincingly to the Roman personal name Gavidius in ACS I 1990.

(18) See KGPN.

(19) See APR s.vv. Eporēdorix; Ateporix; GTHW s.v. Tosiopi for a genealogical table.—RECAM II 85: Epatorix. And see above, n. 16 on Domnekleios and n. 17 on Eposognatos.

(20) Polyb. 24.14.6 (181/180 BC); Strab. 12.3.41 (562). Cf. ACS I 1521; Dressler, ‘Galatisches’, 149 (on s/z variance); GL 56 with n. 128: ‘Whereas the Gaulish Gaesorix would mean “spear-king”, Gaizatorix could be read as “king of the mercenaries”, as the Gaizatai/ -oi (“spearmen”) were Gaulish soldiers for hire (Polyb. 2.22, 23)’.—Cf. Bosch, Ankara, 51 no. 6 = IAnkara 2.34 on Gaizatodiastos.

(21) See Strobel, Die Galater; Coşkun, ‘Zwanzig Jahre Forschungen’, with nn. 15–17.

(22) See Coşkun, APR s.vv.; GTHW s.v. Tolistobogii.

(23) See esp. Zgusta, KP; L. Zgusta, Neue Beiträge zur kleinasiatischen Anthroponymie (Prague, 1970); Robert, Noms indigènes; R. Gusmani, ‘Continuità, fratture e processi di osmosi nel panorama linguistico dell'Asia Minore del I millennio a.C.’, in G. Urso (ed.), Tra Oriente e Occidente: Indigeni, Greci e Romani in Asia minore (Rome, 2007), 11–21.—Bithyno-Thracian names are a separate category: D. Detschev, Die thrakischen Sprachreste (Vienna, 1957); I. Duridanov, ‘Die Thrakischen Personennamen Bithyniens’, Linguistique Balkanique 21.1 (1981), 31–42.

(24) LGPN, esp. LGPN V A; still indispensable are Pape-Benseler, Wörterbuch, and Bechtel, HP. See also H. Solin, Die griechischen Personennamen in Rom, 3 vols. (2nd edn., Berlin, 2003); and the useful commentaries by Wallner in IYozgat.

(25) Cf. e.g. F. Justi, Iranisches Namenbuch (Marburg, 1895), at http://archive.org/details/IranischesNamenbuch; S. Mitchell, Iranian Names and the Presence of Persians in the Religious Sanctuaries of Asia Minor, in E. Matthews (ed.), Old and New Worlds in Greek Onomastics (Oxford, 2007), 151–71.

(26) See APR s.vv. Amyntas I–II; Deiotaros I–IV; Kastor I Tarkondarios; Kastor II–IV; Mithradates of Pergamon; and GTHW s.v. Tolistobogii; Coşkun, ‘Intercultural Anthroponomy’, 55–8.

(27) See above, n. 12 on Phrygian names; n. 23 on Anatolian names; and A. Coşkun, ‘Theophore Personennamen in Westkleinasien’, EpigAnat 44 (2011), 153–62 on theophoric names. In contrast, Galatians avoided theophoric names, as did the Gauls: see M. Dondin-Payre (ed.), Les Noms de personnes dans l'Empire romain (Bordeaux, 2011), 19.

(p.90) (28) The most important epigraphic corpora are now IAnkara, which replaces Bosch, Ankara, for the 1st to 3rd centuries ad; IPessinous; RECAM II. For further information, see below, n. 68, and cf. Coşkun, ‘Zwanzig Jahre Forschungen’.

(29) See e.g. I. Kajanto, The Latin Cognomina (Helsinki, 1965); H. Solin and O. Salomies, Repertorium nominum gentilium et cognominum Latinorum (new edn., Hildesheim, 1994); B. Salway, ‘What's in a Name? A Survey of Roman Onomastic Practice from c. 700 B.C. to A.D. 700’, JRS 84 (1994), 124–45.

(30) And this more so in the east than in the west, where more people of Latin status dwelled. This, in turn, seems to be the main reason for the frequency of the indication of the voting tribe in the Latin west, even though its omission there would not automatically imply Latin status; see G. Alföldy, ‘Notes sur la relation entre le droit de cité et la nomenclature dans l'Empire romain’, Latomus 25 (1966), 37–57.

(31) See Alföldy, ‘Notes’, esp. 38 n. 4; Salway, ‘What's in a Name?’; A. Coşkun, ‘Doppelnamen und duo nomina in Galatien unter Marcus Aurelius (Bosch 174 = Mitchell/French, I.Ankara I 9)’, in preparation.

(32) The earliest example would be Kastor Tarkondarios, see above, n. 26.

(33) See A. Coşkun and J. Zeidler, ‘Acculturation des noms de personne et continuités régionales “cachées”: l'exemple des Decknamen dans l'anthroponymie gallo-romaine et la genèse du Netzwerk Interferenzonomastik’, Rivista Italiana di Onomastica 11.1 (2005), 29–54; also L. Weisgerber, Die Namen der Ubier (Cologne, 1968); M. Dondin-Payre and M.-Th. Raepsaet-Charlier, Noms, identités culturelles et romanisation sous le haut empire (Brussels, 2001); A. Coşkun and J. Zeidler, ‘Cover Names’ and Nomenclature in Late Roman Gaul. The Evidence of the Bordelaise Poet Ausonius (Unit for Prosopographical Research, Oxford, 2003, Forum Celtic Studies, Trier, 2010): www.uni-trier.de/fileadmin/forschung/projekte/ZAT/CEL/cover.pdf;Dondin-Payre (ed.), Noms de personnes, 18–21; Coşkun, ‘Intercultural Anthroponomy’.—All references, unless given in subsequent notes, are to be found in the index of IAnkara.

(34) See Bosch, Ankara 154, erroneously ‘correcting’ to <A>equ[in]us.—Basilas I count as effectively Roman since it was the cognomen of Ti. Helvius, governor of Galatia ad 12–16.—See Gusmani, ‘Continuità’, 15 on Lydia.

(35) See, though without the combination with the Galatian evidence, ACS II 1460, referring to Seleucus mons (in the Alps) and the personal name Seloucus (CIL XII 5015.5137); further DLG2 270 s.v. selua, seluanos, ‘possession, propriété’ > ‘troupeau’.

(36) Th. Corsten, ‘Names in -ιαν ς in Asia Minor. A Preliminary Study’, in Onomatologos (Oxford, 2010), 456–63.

(37) Kamma, the wife of the tetrarch Sinatos: Plut. Mor. 768. Phrygian: Zgusta, KP, 212 § 515; A. Hofeneder, ‘Kann man Kamma, die Frau des Galatertetrarchen Sinatos, für die keltische Religion heranziehen?’, in H. Heftner and K. Tomaschitz (eds.), Ad fontes! FS Gerhard Dobesch (Vienna, 2004), 705–11, at 708–9. Celtic: ACS I 721. Undecided: GL 35. But an Anatolian background should also be considered because of kaueis ‘priestess’ (on which see Gusmani, ‘Continuità’, 14).

(38) See below, n. 74.

(39) Bosch, Ankara 51 = IAnkara 2 = A. Coşkun, ‘Neue Forschungen zum Kaiserkult in Galatien. Edition der Priester-Inschriften des Ankyraner Sebasteions (OGIS 533 = Bosch 51) und Revision der frühen Provinzialgeschichte’, forthcoming in G. Dobesch and J. Fischer (eds.), Der Beitrag Kleinasiens zur Kultur-und Geistesgeschichte der griechisch-römischen Antike (Vienna).

(40) Coşkun, ‘Neue Forschungen’; cf. id., ‘Ankyraner Kaiserkult’; M. Kadıοğlu, K. Görkay and S. Mitchell, Roman Ancyra (Istanbul, 2011); Mitchell and French on IAnkara 2.

(41) (1) […]; (2) [Kas]t[ō]r, son of King Brigatos; (3) Rufos; (4) [Py]laimenēs, son of King Amyntas; (5) Albiorix, son of Ateporix; (6) Amyntas, son of Gaizatodiastos; (7) [?Herm]eias, son of Diognetos; (8) [Al]biorix, son of Ateporix; (9) [M]ētrodōros, son of Menemachos, natural son of Dorylaos; (10) Musanos, son of Artiknos; (11) […], son of Seleukos; (12) Pylaimenēs, son of King Amyntas; (13) [… , (son of?) ]llios (Gen.?); (14) Seleukos, son of Philodamos; (15) Iulios Pontikos; (16) Aristoklēs, son of Al[biorix]; (17) Kointos Gallios Pulcher; (18) [?Philon]idēs, son of Philōn; (19)–(21) […]; (22) Pylaimenēs, son of Mēnas; (23) [Gai]os, son of Akylas.

(42) Therefore, Amyntas will not have bequeathed his kingdom to Rome; see Coşkun, ‘Sanfte Provinzialisierung’. A. Raggi, ‘The First Roman Citizens among Eastern Dynasts and Kings’, in T. Kaizer and M. Facella (eds.), Kingdoms and Principalities in the Roman Near East (Stuttgart, 2010), 81–97, too, rejects the idea of ‘automatic’ citizenship grants to the descendants of Hellenistic rulers, but rather connects many Iulioi of the east to Augustus' Parthian campaign around 20 BC. However, at least for Galatia, this explanation does not work either.

(43) Their names were inscribed AD 14/19, and might have been adapted, as was that of the empress Livia, whose statue had been dedicated in AD 3/4, to Iulia Sebastē, names she took on only in AD 14.

(44) See GTHW s.vv. Tolistobogii and Tosiopi, with corresponding biographical entries in APR.

(45) On Clodius, see T.R.S. Broughton, The Magistrates of the Roman Republic, 3 vols. (Atlanta, 1951, 1952, 1986), II, 196; E. Rawson, Roman Culture and Society (Oxford, 1991), 102–24, 227–44; APR s.v. Brogitaros; on Caesar ‘s privilege, Strab. 5.1.6 (213); B. Holtheide, Römische Bürgerrechtspolitik und römische Neubürger in der Provinz Asia (Freiburg im Breisgau, 1983), 9, 26—all without a connection to the Sebastos priest though.

(46) See Broughton, Magistrates, II, 290; III, 97, without a connection to the Sebastos priest though.

(47) No further Iulios Pontikos is known from Galatia, but note the following members of the koinon council of 98 BC: Flavios Gallios (IAnkara 8, l. 19 L = Bosch, Ankara 98 no. 7); Kl[ō]dios (l. 59 R = Bosch, Ankara 98 no. 88). The same inscription mentions Antonios Severos and Antonios Keler (ll. 47 L, 48 L = Bosch, Ankara 98 no. 34 f., with nn. 47 f.), for whose family Bosch reasonably claims citizenship grant from Mark Antony. If so, their family would have lost prominence under Augustus, but later regained importance that allowed them to intermarry with the Klaudioi Severoi and the Gaoi Akyllioi, to which they appear to be linked according to their cognomina.

(48) The standard works on the governors of Galatia are still R.K. Sherk, ‘A Chronology of the Governors of Galatia: A.D. 112–285’, AJP 100 (1979), 166–75; id., ‘Roman Galatia: The Governors from 25 B.C. to A.D. 114’, in ANRW II 7.2 (1980), 954–1052; B. Rémy, Les Carrières sénatoriales dans les provinces romaines d'Anatolie au Haut-Empire (31 av. J.-C.—284 ap. J.-C.) (Istanbul and Paris, 1989), though several corrections are required especially for 25 BC to c. AD 41; cf. A. Coşkun, ‘Das Edikt des Sex. Sotidius Strabo Libuscidianus und die Fasten der Statthalter Galatiens in augusteischer und tiberischer Zeit’, Gephyra 6 (2009), 159–64; id., ‘Neue Forschungen’. Note that O. Salomies, ‘Römische Amsträger und römisches Bürgerrecht in der Kaiserzeit: Die Aussagekraft der Onomastik’, in W. Eck (ed.), Prosopographie und Sozialgeschichte (Cologne, 1993), 119–46, at 129 and 135, cautions against the idea that names of governors had a significant impact on provincial naming practices; but he confines his study to thenomina gentilia of provincial Roman citizens.

(49) See DLG2 263 *roudos ‘rouge’, also with reference to Rudianus, an epithet of Mars: ‘le rouge est le couleur guerrière’.

(50) See e.g. RECAM II 416 (2nd cent.): Plankia Magna Akylia, daughter of G. Iulios Severos (cos. suff. 138) and Klaudia Akylia; RECAM II 232 (before AD 212): Krispos, son of Keler, husband of Akyllia, daughter of Akyllas; IAnkara 234 = Bosch, Ankara 78 (2nd cent.): Antōnia Akyllia Eponē, daughter of Akyllianos and Proklē, sister of Fl. Kreispeinos; IAnkara 8, l. 48 L = Bosch, Ankara 98 no. 35 with n. 48: Antonios Keler. For Akka, see RECAM II 118, 206, 300; IPessinous, no. 49; MAMA VII 315. Admittedly, the latter name overlaps with an Anatolian (Zgusta, KP, 51 § 36) or Phrygian (Frei, ‘Die epichorischen Namen’, 184), or simply with an epichoric Lallnamensippe (IPessinous p. 71). For a Celtic interpretation, see ACS I 12–15 (with examples such as Acco); DLG2 144 s.v. diacus ‘paresseux’ (< *ācus ‘rapide’).

(51) Bosch, Ankara 98 = IAnkara 8. My readings, counts and classifications times differ from either edition: see A. Coşkun, ‘Romanisierung im Spiegel zweier Listen der Buleuten des Koinons der Galater (Bosch 98; 174 = I.Ankara I 8–9)’, in preparation.

(52) Bosch, Ankara 98 dates to AD 102, IAnkara 8 to AD 146/161 (with further literature); see l. 6 on the fourth consulship of the anonymous emperor. An early date, which is clearly suggested by the onomastic and prosopographical implications (see also below), has been contested on the ground that a governorship of Alphius Maximus is incompatible with our evidence for T. Pomponius Bassus, leg. Aug. 94–100, and Q. OrfitasiusAufidiusUmber, 100–4. However, Alphius is not called presbeutēs antistratēgos but more vaguely hēgemeuōn and may thus well have been a proxy, perhaps a legatus legionis with additional competence (for a parallel in Syria, cf. IAnkara 74.12–17). As long as Galatia and Cappadocia were united (AD 70/72–113), there seem to have been various such cases (cf. Sherk, ‘Roman Galatia’, even if not all of his suggestions are valid). The proxy may have had direct responsibility for Galatia and possibly was even present at the inauguration of the statue. Note further the extraordinary honours that Nerva received in Ankyra during his short reign: J. Bennett, ‘The Political and Physical Topography of Early Imperial Graeco-Roman Ancyra’, Anatolica 32 (2006), 189–227, at 194–5.

(53) e.g. the only priest attested under Claudius probably bore a now lost nomen unicum followed by the Celtic patronymic Rossolittanos (slightly differently, IAnkara 3). The earliest epigraphic record of descendants of King Deiotaros I from Pessinous mentions Ti. Klaudios Heras and his son Ti. Klaudios Attis Deiotaros in the course of the Flavian period: IPessinous 17 f. (though for the date see Strobel, ‘Historische Identität’, 380 n. 15). The nomen Claudii remained more widespread than Iulios or Flavios or Ailios in the early 2nd century.

(54) See IAnkara 4.4; 9.21 R; 77.23–25; 87.4–6 for Kokkeios; also 273.3 f. for Papeirios Kokkeianos. And 9.4 R; 61.3; 140.11 f.; 141.9 f., 46 f.; 142.1–3; 143.15 f.; 175.2 f., 5, 6, 7; 176.2 f. for Ulpios.

(55) See IAnkara 66.6 f. Ai(lia) Aurēlia Theanō; 42.5 and 88.2 f. Iulios Ailios Makedōn; 261.6 f. Ailios Flavios Markos; 109.1–3 P. Ailios Semprōnios Mētrophanēs; 9.4 R Ulpios Ailios Antōninos; 140–3 Ulpios Ailios Pompeianos. Compared to these, other examples are rare: 190.16 Aurēlia Valeria; 86.1 f. Klaudios Aimilios Philonidēs; 116.1; 117.1 f. Klaudios Kaikilios Hermianos; 264.1–3 Ti. Iulios Asandros ho kai Klaudios.—Note, however, that Salomies, ‘Römische Amtsträger ‘, 130 insists that, in the case of polyonymi, only the ‘Hauptnomen’ (i.e. the last nomen gentile) is a key to the patron who granted or helped achieve citizenship, a view which implies some difficulties.

(56) Annios: {87bis}; 69?; Antōnios: 37, 38; Klōdios: 91; Petrōnios: 11?; Pompōnios: {14?}.—Ailios: 4; Ianoarios 41; Karistanios {30}; Klementi[os?]: (77?) (or Klementi[nos?]); Lutatios {27?}, {28}; Papirios 2, 6, 7; Postumios 66; Post[umios?] 83; Stateilios {13}; {24}; Valerios {52}, {76}.

(57) See H. Halfmann, Die Senatoren aus dem östlichen Teil des Imperium Romanum bis zum Ende des 2. Jahrhunderts n.Chr. (Göttingen, 1979); id., ‘Italische Ursprünge bei Rittern und Senatoren aus Kleinasien’, in G. Urso (ed.), Tra Oriente e Occidente: Indigeni, Greci e Romani in Asia minore (Rome, 2007), 165–87.

(58) Iulianos: 4, {79}, {82}; Klaudianos 9. Versus: Akylas {21}, {72}, {73}, {84}, {95}; Aphreinos 42; Basilas (27?), {41}, {60}; Fronton {60}; Gallos 10; Maximos {18}, {85}; Proklos (< Prokuleianos) 16, {71}; Rufos {35: supernomen}, {47}, {56bis}, {58}; Sevēros 37, [78]; Silvanos {45}.

(59) IAnkara 9 = Bosch, Ankara 174. Mitchell and French identify the name-bearers as ‘dedicants ‘ of the mid-2nd century; their onomastic comments are based on a sample of 56 persons, although their edited text would only allow them to determine the civic status of 45. In contrast, Bosch qualifies the inscription as a list of koinon councillors (erroneously named ‘Galatarchai’), who assembled in AD 166 to honour the emperors for their Parthian victory; it is further misleading to speak of 56 ‘Namen’ (of which 44 are legible), 58 ‘Personen’ (including the fathers mentioned), and 43 ‘Familien’ (pp. 233 f.). Given the problematic state of transmission and the differing statistical principles applied, an adequate analysis would require a more detailed commentary than is permitted here (see Coşkun, ‘Romanisierung im Spiegel zweier Listen’). The numbers I refer to are based on a count of 58 lines in which at least letter traces had been visible (1 L to 38 L plus 1 R to 22 R, except 8 R and 11 R, which have been left blank in all copies), each representing one person (thus agreeing with IAnkara on ll. 7–8 against Bosch, but disagreeing with all of them on ll. 21 f. R).

(60) Koinon list of AD 98, no. 70.—Further cognomina that have not been attributed to a governor are A[..]tios: 7; Ianuarios: 14; Lykeinios: 27; Mem(m)ios: {45}; Ostorios: (41?); Sextilios: 16; Tituleios: 53.

(61) Gallos: 48; Maximos 24; Prok[los] (or Pro[kleianos]): 1; Sevēros: 3, 13, {15}, 18.—Antōninos: 42; Bē(ros) (= Verus): 32 (which had also been the name of a governor though).

(62) Maximeinos: {29}; Val<er>[ianos]: {4}.—Klaudianos 46; Iulianos {5}, 23.

(63) Asi<at>iko[s]: 52?; Iunianios: 12; Iustos: 12; Likinianos: {30}; Markianos: 7; <ν>aros 51.

(64) For a more detailed study, see A. Coşkun, Romanisierung und keltisches Substrat im hadrianischen Ankyra im Spiegel der Gedenkinschrift für Lateinia Kleopatra (Bosch 117 = Mitchell/French, I.Ankara I 81), ZPE 183 (2013), 171–84.—For an attempt to distinguish between the social strata of the province of Asia according to epigraphic genres, see Holtheide, Römische Bürgerrechtspolitik, 12–14.

(p.102) (65) For a more detailed study, see Coşkun, ‘Intercultural Anthroponomy’, 58–60 and 67f. (maps).

(66) See above, n. 11.

(67) On the toponymics of Galatia, cf. GL; P. Sims-Williams, Ancient Celtic Place-Names in Europe and Asia Minor (Oxford, 2006); A. Coşkun, ‘War der Galaterkönig Deiotaros ein Städtegründer? Neue Vorschläge zu einigen kleinasiatischen Toponymen auf Sin-/Syn-’, forthcoming in J. Zeidler (ed.), Devoi anvanac: Studien zur keltischen Religion und Onomastik; A. Falileyev, Dictionary of Continental Celtic Place-Names (Aberystwyth, 2010), with map at http://cadair.aber.ac.uk/dspace/handle/2160/282.

(68) The most important corpora are Bosch, Ankara; Mitchell, RECAM II; also Wallner, IYozgat. With the upcoming publications of Mitchell and French, IAnkara II; Mitchell and Coşkun, RECAM II2; Strobel, ITavion; U. Huttner et al., Inscriptiones Christianae Asiae Minoris Antiquae (ICAM), our source basis will change fundamentally over the next few years.

(69) On the constitutio, see K. Buraselis, Θε α Δωρε . Das göttlich-kaiserliche Geschenk: Studien zur Politik der Severer und zur Constitutio Antoniniana (Vienna, 2007); A.D. Rizakis, ‘La diffusion des processus d'adaptation onomastique: les Aurelii dans les provinces orientales de l'Empire’, in Dondin-Payre (ed.), Noms de personnes, 252–63. IAnkara registers 21 cases, RECAM II 80 instances, though a few of them rather reflect the franchise granted by MAurelius. or Commodus in the 2nd century.

(70) One of the last examples is Aurelius Sentamos, who was a worshipper of Zeus with the Celtic epithet Bussurigios (‘Royal Mouth’) and a priest of Cybele: RECAM II 201, 206 (shortly after AD 212).

(71) Mitchell, Anatolia, vol. II; for further references, see Coşkun, ‘Zwanzig Jahre Forschungen’, nn. 13, 37 and 48.

(72) It would be interesting to know why the name of the disciple ‘whom Jesus loved’ (John 13:23) became so much more popular than those of Peter and Jacob, which are also attested in Galatia.

(73) Theodotos: cf. the miraculous birth of Isaak (Gen. 17–22).—Theodoulos: see Is. 41–52; also Gen. 26:24; Ps. 78:70 etc. Since the pagan concept of theodoulia was especially widespread throughout Anatolia (with Pessinous hosting the most famous Hellenistic temple state), one might wonder if this gave a special impetus for such a name choice. LGPN V C may help clarify this in the future; for the time being, LGPN V A offers 8 instances, compared to 61 in LGPN I–IV, which does not appear to be significant.

(74) Kyriakē: see IYozgat VI. 8.—Of further interest is the popular name Domnos (see also above, n. 16 and at n. 38) which so far has found several different interpretations: Wallner, IYozgat pp. 27 f. (on no. I. 4) reports on views that connect it with the Empress Julia Domna or posit a Christian context, but shows that some examples date prior to the Severan age (AD 193–235). However, it is also clear that the name has an independent Phrygian and Celtic (Gaulish) tradition that further overlaps with the syncopated form of Latin dom(i)nus (see Coşkun, ‘Intercultural Anthroponomy’, with n. 11). One may wonder whether Domnos (and its derivatives) has possibly drawn further inspiration from Christian names based on Kyrios, as much as the latter's popularity in central Anatolia was perhaps enhanced through the previous appeal of Domnos.

(75) See above, n. 68.

(76) See W. Haubrichs, ‘Romanen an Rhein und Mosel. Onomastische Reflexionen’,in P. Ernst and F. Patocka, Deutsche Sprache in Raum und Zeit, Fs. Peter Wiesinger (Vienna, 1998), 379–413.

(77) IAnkara 72.13 f. The implications of this title are still opaque, but see the forthcoming study of Mustafa Adak.

(78) E. Groag, ‘C. Iulius Severus Nr. 484 f.’, in RE 10.1 (1918), 811–22; PIR2 I 573 f.; S. Mitchell, ‘The Plancii in Asia Minor’, JRS 64 (1974), 27–39, at 35–9; Halfmann, Die Senatoren, 48 f., 151 f.; W. Eck, Die Statthalter der germanischen Provinzen vom 1.–3. Jahrhundert (Cologne, 1985), 169 f.; Ch. Settipani, Continuité gentilice et continuité familiale dans les familles sénatoriales romaines à l'époque imperial: Mythe et réalité (Oxford, 2000), 454–67; IAnkara 72–9, esp. pp. 228–30.

(79) Thus also Bosch, Ankara 174 with n. 18, whereas IAnkara p. 162 identifies him with the father.

(80) Thus PIR2 I 648; Halfmann, Die Senatoren, 167; Settipani, Continuité gentilice, 467.

(81) IAnkara, esp. 72.2–13, on which see above, n. 77. He is only attested in Année épigraphique 1923, 4 (Corinth, c. AD 130s): C(aium) Iulium Iuli [Qu]adrati | [f(ilium) F]ab(ia) Severum pr(aetorem) leg(atum) | pro pr(aetore) prov(inciae) Asiae leg(atum) leg(ionis) | IIII Scythicae proco(n)s(ulem) prov(inciae) Ach(aiae) curionem patronum | ob iustitiam et sanctitatem | [L(ucius)] Marius Piso q(uaestor) et praet(or) | [hu]ic sponte sua cum LL(ucis) | Mariis Floro Stlacciano | et Pisone Resiano libe|ris suis | pro tribu Maneia | d(ecreto) d(ecurionum).

(82) Thus also IAnkara p. 230.

(83) Less convincing is the attempt of Settipani, Continuité gentilice, 467, who suggests a marriage link between a descendant of King Deiotaros with a senator from Narbonese Gaul in the early Julio-Claudian period. More likely, though difficult to specify, are connections to Akmoneia and Pergamum; see H. Halfmann, ‘Italische Ursprünge’, 165–87, esp. 178.

(84) Thus Settipani, Continuité gentilice, 467; by implication also Mitchell, ‘The Plancii’, 35 n. 54, who calls the high priestess Iulia Severa attested in Akmoneia under Nero an ‘ancestor’ of G. Iulios Severos.

(85) See Halfmann, Die Senatoren, 49, 135 f.; Settipani, Continuité gentilice, 301 f. and 456, but without the connection to G. Iulios Severos.