The Roman statesman Marcus Porcius Cato, better known as Cato the Elder, has gone down in history for his insistence that Punic Carthage had to be destroyed, even if Rome had already stripped the North African city of both its overseas and surrounding territories fifty years earlier. He is best known for the expression Cartago delenda est ('Carthage has to be destroyed'), which may or may not be apocryphal, but contemporary accounts of his speeches relate in any case that Cato marshalled material support on the Roman Senate floor in a major speech in what was probably the year 152 BC: both Plutarch (Cato Maior 27.1) and Pliny the Elder (Naturalis Historia 15.74) describe how he brought a handful of ripe, plump 'African figs' to the Senate floor. Even if these figs are likely to have been grown at Cato's central Italian estate, they still reminded his audience of the rapid and extensive recovery that Carthage had made after its crushing defeat by Rome in the Second Punic War (218-201 BC; Meijer 1984). Carthage had for centuries been renowned for the agricultural richness of its territories and its agronomic skills to exploit these, and Cato's figs vividly reminded the Roman senators of the formidable power that their predecessors had faced over the two Punic Wars of the past hundred years or so. Whether or not it was Cato's figs that convinced the Roman senators to go and raze Carthage to the ground in 146 BC remains open to speculation. The point that I would like to make is that rural produce, a horticultural crop, was important enough in Republican Rome, and sufficiently familiar to Roman Senators, to have played a central role in decisions about going to war; it could at least plausibly be presented as having swayed senatorial opinions. Cato is an interesting politician in this regard, as he was also the author of De Agri Cultura, which was as much a farmer's almanac as a reminder to his Roman contemporaries of the importance of rural production. It is no less relevant in all of this that the most famous Carthaginian author was Mago the Agronomist, whom later Roman writers recognized as the 'Father of Agriculture' (Columella, De Re Rustica 1.1.13). Anecdotes and factoids like these readily illustrate what may be a point almost too obvious to make: as a world of preindustrial societies, the Mediterranean of Classical Antiquity was not first and foremost made up of and shaped by city-dwellers, as archaeologists and (ancient) historians such as Collingwood and Finley have long insisted. Major urban centres surely existed, with Rome and Carthage as prime examples, but these societies were also profoundly rural, and the implications of their rural contexts and roots, material and otherwise, were never far awaynot even in an institution that was as urban and elitist as the Roman Senate. This observation goes well beyond the ancient Mediterranean and is indeed put into perspective by the sobering statistic that on a global scale less than 10% of people lived in an urban setting as late as the nineteenth century (AD!)...