I’ve been leafing through J.E. Lendon’s Empire of Honour, a rather fascinating look at honor as a controlling force in the Roman Empire, as season three of Game of Thrones has wrapped up. The program’s examination of the role of honor in what amounts to an ancient society has been its most fascinating theme to this student of ancient history. (Some spoilers for the last two episodes of season three below.)
Needless to say, "honor" is a rather amorphous concept. As the back cover of Lendon’s book puts it, "The competitive Roman and Greek aristocrats of the empire conceived of their relative standing in terms of public esteem or honour, and conceived of their cities—towards which they felt a warm patriotism—as entities locked in a parallel struggle for primacy in honour over rivals." Fans of the show will be forgiven for reading the above and thinking of Winterfell and the Iron Islands and King’s Landing and the Twins and every other city-state in Westeros.
Might, of course, was an important part of the maintenance of Rome. "It is certainly true, then, that the Roman empire could not be ruled without force and the fear that force inspired," writes Lendon. "But the modest provision of force available makes it unlikely that it was the sole operative principle of Roman imperial government." Favors and patronage also played a role, but cannot account for the entirety of the emperor’s power: "The empire was more than a colossal back-scratching scheme; in the eyes of some observers the principate evidently depended not only on a well-directed stream of boons, but also on careful regard for the honour of those around the emperor."
Tywin Lannister—King Joffrey’s grandfather and consigliere—provided a master class in the subject of honor this week. After enduring a perceived slight during a council meeting, the brat-king snapped, "I am the king! I will punish you."
"Any man who must say ‘I am the king’ is no true king," Tywin explained. "I’ll make sure you understand that when I’ve won your war for you. … The king is tired. See him to his chamber."
"You just sent the most powerful man in Westeros to bed without his supper," Tyrion—Tywin’s son, Joffrey’s uncle, and the issuer of the aforementioned slight—says with a smile. Tywin, as ever, is unamused: "You’re a fool if you believe he’s the most powerful man in Westeros. … You really think a crown gives you power?"
"No. I think armies give you power," Tyrion replies. But Tyrion also understands that force alone is not enough: "Robb Stark had one. Never lost a battle. And you defeated him all the same."
"Hmm," Tywin grunts.
"Oh, I know. Walder Frey gets all the credit. Or the blame, I suppose. Depending on your allegiance," Tyrion says. "Walder Frey is many things, but a brave man? No. He never would’ve risked such an action if he didn’t have certain assurances."
"Which he got from me," Tywin notes.
I want to highlight that last exchange ever so briefly, as it perfectly demonstrates Tywin’s cunning manipulation of Westeros’ conception of honor. Tywin allowed Walder Frey—the architect of the so-called Red Wedding, in which "King of the North" Robb Stark, his mother, and most of the Stark lieutenants were slaughtered despite Frey’s promise of sanctuary during a wedding feast—to believe his violation of one of the few strict codes in this horrible land was his idea. Yes, Tywin may have signed off. But he certainly gave no orders. That would not only implicate him in a horrible crime but also be an affront to Frey, a man already seeking to avenge a previous slight by the Stark family.*
"Although it was understood that a gentleman official had to obey his chief’s orders, he might be insulted if another gentleman official presumed actually to give him an order," writes Lendon in Empire of Honour. "Thus even the emperor was extremely tactful, phrasing his directives to his grand officials as suggestions and advice."
Emphasis mine.
The patriarch of the Lannister clan and the Lord of Casterly Rock is not the king, but he maintains the kingdom and his grandson’s throne through the careful maintenance of honor: the deft giving of gifts and gold; the repayment of debts incurred; the arrangement of alliance-building weddings; the strategic deployment of force; and, perhaps most importantly, a careful grooming of potential allies who will permanently sully their own reputations at the behest of the Lannisters.
These are skills that Joffrey, the actual king, has yet to fully develop. They are skills that he must develop, and quickly, if he is to keep the Iron Throne: "'For a king, the laws are no protection against betrayal,' said an orator to Trajan with refreshing frankness," Lendon writes. That's something Joffrey should keep in mind.
*Robb Stark had sworn an oath to marry one of Frey’s daughters; breaking the oath humiliated—and dishonored—Frey.