The Routledge Handbook On Identity in Byzantium (David Alan Parnell, Conor Whately Etc.)

ΤΗΕ ROUTLEDGE HANDBOOK ΟΝ
IDENTITY ΙΝ BYZANTIUM
This volume is the first to focus solely οη how specific individuals and groups in Byzantium and
its borderlands were defined and distinguished from other individuals and groups from the mid
fourth to the close of the fιfteenth century. It gathers chapters from both established and
emerging scholars from a wide range of disciplines across history, art, archaeology, and religion
to provide an accurate representation of the state of the field both now and in its immediate
future. The handbook is divided into four subtopics that examine concepts of group and
specific individual identity that have been chosen to provide methodologically sophisticated and
multidisciplinary perspectives οη specific categories of group and individual identity. The topics
are Impeήal Identities; Romanitas in the Late Antique Mediterranean; Macro and Micro
Identities: Religious, Regional, and Ethnic Identities, and Internal Others; and Gendered
Identities: Literature, Memory, and Self in Early and Middle Byzantium. While ηο single
volume could ever provide a comprehensive vision of identities οη the vast vaήety of peoples
within Byzantium over nearly a millennium of its history, this handbook represents a milestone
in offeήng a survey of the vibrant surge of scholarship examining the numerous and oft-times
fluctuating codes of identity that shaped and transformed Byzantium and its neighbours duήng
the empire's long life.
Michael Edward Stewart is an Honorary Research Fellow in the School of History,

Classics, and Philosophical Inquiry at the University of Queensland, Australia.
David Alan Parnell is an Associate Professor of History at Indiana University

Northwest, USA.
Conor Whately is an Associate Professor at the University of Winnipeg, Canada.

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The Routledge Handbook οη Identity ίη Byzantiuιn
Edited by Michael Edward Stewart, David Alan Parnell, and Cσnσr Whately
For more inform ation about this seήes, please visit: https://www.routledge.com/Routledge
His tory-Hand books/book-series/R HISTHAND
ΤΗΕ ROUTLEDGE
HANDBOOK ΟΝ
IDENTITY ΙΝ BYZANTIUM
Edited by Michael Edward Stewart,

David Alan Parnell, and
Conor Whately
1� ��o�;��n��up
LONDON AND NEW YORK
Cover image: Scylitzes chronicle,
Folio 213v. Photo by Werner Forman/Universal
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First published 2022
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Names: Stewart, Michael Edward, editor, author. Parnell, David Alan,
Ι
editor, author. Whately, Conor, editor, author.

Ι
Title: The Routledge handbook οη identity ίη Byzantium / edited by Michael

Edward Stewart, David Alan Parnell, and Conor Whately.
Description: New Υork : Routledge, 2022. Ι
Seήes: The Routledge history handbooks Ι Includes bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2021047986 (pήnt) LCCN 2021047987 (ebook)
1 1
ISBN 9780367143411 (hardback) 1 ISBN 9781032207087 (paperback) 1

ISBN 9780429031373 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Byzantine Empire--Civilization. Ι
Identity (Psychology)--Byzantine Empire. Ι Ethnology--Byzantine Empire. Ι
Group identity--Byzantine Empire. Ι Cultural awareness--Byzantine Empire. Ι
Gender identity--Byzantine Empire.
Classification: LCC DF531 .R68 2022 (pήnt) 1 LCC DF531 (ebook)
DDC 949.5/02--dc23/eng/20211012
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021047986
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021047987
ISBN: 978-0-367-14341-1 (hbk)

ISBN: 978-1-032-20708-7 (pbk)
ISBN: 978-0-429-03137-3 (ebk)
DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373
Typeset ίη Bembo
by MPS Limited, Dehradun
CONTENTS
List ιif Figures vιιι

Contributors χ
List ιif Abbreviations χιι
Acknowledgements χιv
1 Finding Byzantium 1
Michael Edward Stewart, David Alan Parnell, and Conor Whately
PART 1
Imperial Identities 17
2 The Political Philosophy ofJohn Lydus and Early Byzantine Impeήal

Identity 19
Sviatoslav Dmitriev
3 Constantinian Impeήal Identities: The Julianic Pushback 39

Nicola Rose Ernst
4 Soldier-Emperors and the Motif oflmperial Violence in the Byzantine

Empire 59
Christopher W. Malone
5 Impeήal Identity: Byzantine Silks, Art, Autocracy, Theocracy, and the

Image of Basileia 81
Anna Muthesius
V
Contents
PART 11
Romanitas ίη the Late Antique Mediterranean 105
6 Το Triumph Forever: Romans and Barbaήans in Early Byzantium 107

Michael Edward Stewart
7 Some Considerations οη Barbarian Ethnicity in Late antiquity 123

Robert Kasperski
8 The Elements of Identity as Exemplified by Four-Late Antique

Authors 139
Rιifal Kosinski
9 Manly Goths, Unmanly Romans: Ideologies of Gender in Ostrogothic

Italy 163
Jonathan]. Arnold
10 Contested Identities in Byzantine North Mrica 181

Andy Merrills
11 Contested Identities in The Byzantine West, Circa 540-895 198

Christopher Heath
PART 111
Macro and Micro Identities: Religious, Regional, and Ethnic
Identities, and lnternal Others 215
12 Overlapping Identities and Individual Agency in Byzantine

Southern Italy 217
Joseph Western
13 Dehumanisation, Apocalypticism, and Anti-Judaism: Reflections οη

Identity Formation in Seventh-Century Byzantium 232
Ryan W. Strickler
14 Provincial Identities in Byzantium 248

Anthony Kaldellis
15 Parents and Children, Servants and Masters: Slaves, Freedmen, and the
Family in Byzantium 263
Nathan Leidholm
vi
Contents
16 Middle Byzantine Histoήans and the Dichotomy of Peasant Identity 282

Cahίt Mete Oguz
17 Political Power, Space, and Identities in the State of Epiros

(1205-1318) 300
Ioannίs Smarnakίs
18 "Moses' Account is Simpler, More Concise and More Effective":

Orthodoxy, Heresy, and Cosmographic Identity in the Twelfth and
Early Thirteenth Centuήes 312
Anne-Laurence Caudano
PARTIV
Gendered Identities: Literature, Memory, and Self ίη Early and Middle
Byzantium 331
19 Pήvilege, Pleasure, Performance: Reading Female Nudity in Late

Antique Art 333
Grace Stafford
20 Α War ofWords οη the Place ofMilitary Wives in the Sixth-Century

Roman Army 363
Davίd Alan Parnell
21 Reading Greco-Roman Gender Ideals in Byzantium: Classical Heroes

and Eastern Roman Gender 377
Leonora Nevίlle
22 Modes of Identity: Attaleiates, Komnene, and Psellos 395

Penelope Buckley
23 Byzantium in the American Alt-Right Imagination: Paradigms of the

Medieval Greek Past Among Men's Rights Activists and White
Supremacists 424
Adam ]. Goldwyn
Index 440
vii
FIGURES
3.1 Solidus of Constantius ΙΙ. Coin from Metropolitan Museum of Art.

(67.265.20) 49
3.2 Solidus ofJulian. Coin from Metropolitan Museum of Art. (99.35.7409) 49
4.1 Constantine Ι, VIRTUS CO-STANTINI CAES: Constantine as Charging
Horseman (RIC Aquileia, 111). Classical Numismatic Group, Inc. (http://
www.cngcoins.com) 60
4.2 Constantius ΙΙ, FEL ΤΕΜΡ REPARATIO: The Happiness of the Times
Restored (RIC 8, 106). Classical Numismatic Group, Inc. (http://
www.cngcoins.com) 60
4.3 Medallion ofJustinian Ι as Soldier-Emperor (replica). Classical Numismatic
Group, Inc. (http://www.cngcoins.com) 62
4.4 Justinian οη the Barbeήni lvory. Photo © RMN-Grand Palais (musee du
Louvre)/Les freres Chuzeville 62
4.5 Constantine IV, with Horseman Shield (DOC 2.2, 15a). © Dumbarton
Oaks, Byzantine Collection, Washington, DC 63
4.6 Silver and lvory Casket, now in Troyes Cathedral. Photo © Ministere de
la Culture -Mediatheque de l'architecture et du patrimoine, Dist. RMN-
Grand Palais/Guillot 66
4.7 St Demetήus: Seal of Alexios Komnenos, Grand Domestikos (DO Seals
1.15). © Dumbarton Oaks, Byzantine Collection, Washington, DC 67
4.8 Basil ΙΙ in the Venice Psalter (Biblioteca Marciana MS Gr.Z.17 (=421)
fIIIr). Su concessione del Ministeήo per i Beni e le Attivita Culturali-
Biblioteca Nazionale Marciana. Divieto di riproduzione 68
4.9 Miliaresion of Constantine ΙΧ, with sword (DOC 3.2, 7a.2). Classical
Numismatic Group, Inc. (http://www.cngcoins.com) 69
4.10 Isaak I's Aggressive Nomisma (DOC 3.2, 2.7). © Dumbarton Oaks,
Byzantine Collection, Washington, DC 70
4.11 Seal of Isaak Ι (DO Seals 6, 76.1). © Dumbarton Oaks, Byzantine
Collection, Washington, DC 70
4.12 Alexios Ι and St Demetήus (DOC 4.1, 5a.2). Classical Numismatic Group,
Inc. (http://www.cngcoins.com) 72
viii
Figures
4.13 Isaak ΙΙ and Archangel Michael (DOC 4.1, ld.8). © Dumbarton Oaks,
Byzantine Collection, Washington, DC 73
4.14 Manuel Ι and St Theodore (DOC 4.1, 4c.4). Classical Nurnismatic Group,
Inc. (http://www.cngcoins.com) 73
5.1 Byzantine Silks, Diagram by Anna Muthesius 82
5.2 Chήst crowning John ΙΙ Komnenos (d. 1143) with his son Alexios and
personifications ofMercy and Justice. Rome, Vatican Ms. Urb. Gr. 2, f.20.
Twelfth century, Constantinople 85
5.3 Chήst crowning Constantine VII Porphyrogennetos (d. 959). Pushkin
Museum, Moscow. Mid tenth century, Byzantine 88
5.4 Silk tapestry shroud of Bishop Gunther of Bamberg (d.1065). Bamberg
Cathedral treasury. Eleventh century, Constantinople? 89
5.5 King David with personifications ofWisdom and Prophecy. Psalter, Paήs
National Library, Ms. Gr. 139. Second halftenth century, Constantinople 91
5.6 The Shroud of Charlemagne, polychrome Byzantine silk with a pattern
showing a quadήga. Paήs, musee national du Moyen Λge. Ninth century 92
16.1 Timeline Covered by Each Byzantine Author. Diagram by Cahit Oguz 283
19.1 The "Bikini Girls" Mosaic at Piazza Armeήna (Photo by Author, with
kind perrnission of the Parco Archeologico di Morgantina e della Villa
Romana del Casale di Piazza Armeήna) 335
19.2 View ofthe Sevso Casket Showing a Woman Removing Her Tunic and
Two Nude Women (© Hungaήan National Museum) 338
19.3 View ofthe Sevso Casket Showing a Woman at Her Toilet Attended by
Slaves (© Hungaήan National Museum) 339
19.4 View of the Naples Situla Showing a Naked Woman Attended by Her
Slaves (Photo by author, Naples Archaeological Museum, su concessione
del Ministero per i Beni e le Attivita Culturali e per il Tuήsmo - Museo
Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli) 340
19.5 View of the Naples Situla Showing a Woman Removing Her Tunic
(Photo by Grace Stafford, Naples Archaeological Museum, su concessione
del Ministero per i Beni e le Attivita Culturali e per il Tuήsmo - Museo
19.6 View of the Naples Situla Showing a Woman Removing Her Tunic
(Photo by Author, Naples Archaeological Museum, su concessione del
Ministero per i Beni e le Attivita Culturali e per il Tuήsmo - Museo
19.7 Magical figuήne ofa nude woman pierced with pins (Photo © Musee du
Louvre Dist. RMN-Grand Palais/Georges Poncet) 344
19.8 Mosaic of an Embracing Couple (Photo by author, with the kind
pemussιon of the Parco Archeologico di Morgantina e della Villa
Romana del Casale di Piazza Armeήna) 345
19.9 Tomb Stele ofthe Mime Actress Bassilla (Museo Archeologico Νazionale
di Aquileia, photo Museid Italia, Creative Commons BY-NC-ND 4.0) 350
19.10 Front View ofthe Comb ofHelladia (Photo © RMN-Grand Palais (musee
du Louvre)/Gerard Blot) 352
ix
CONTRIBUTORS
Jonathan J. Arnold is an Associate Professor of History at the University of Tulsa, Tulsa,

Oklahoma, USA.
Penelope Buckley is an Honorary fellow in the Histoήcal and Philosophical Studies at the
University of Melbourne, Melbourne, Victoήa, Australia.
Anne-Laurence Caudano is a Professor of History, University of Winnipeg, Winnipeg,

Manitoba, Canada.
Sviatoslav Dmitriev is an Associate Professor of History at Ball State University, Muncie,

Indiana, USA.
Nicola Rose Ernst is a PhD candidate at the University of Exeter, England.
Adam J. Goldwyn is an Associate Professor of Medieval Literature and English at North

Dakota State University, Fargo, North Dakota, USA.
Christopher Heath is an Associate Lecturer at Manchester Metropolitan University,

Manchester, England.
Anthony Kaldellis is a Professor and Chair of the Department of Classics at The Ohio State
University, Columbus, Ohio, USA.
Robert Kasperski is an Associate Professor at the Tadeusz Manteuffel Institute of History of

the Polish Academy of Sciences.
Rafal Kosiήski is a Professor of Ancient andByzantine History at the University ofBialystok,

Bialystok, Poland.
Nathan Leidholm is an Assistant Professor at Bilkent University, Ankara, Turkey.
χ
Contributors
Christopher W. Malone is a Lecturer at the University of Sydney, New South Wales,

Sydney, New South Wales, Australia.
Andy Merrills is an Associate Professor of Ancient History at the University of Leicester,

Leicester, England.
Anna Muthesius ιs a Professor of History at the University of Cambήdge, Cambήdge,

England.
Leonora Neville is the John W. and Jeanne Μ. Rowe Professor of Byzantine History at the
University of Wisconsin, Madison, Wisconsin, USA.
Cahit Mete Oguz is a PhD Candidate in the School of History at Simon Fraser University,
Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.
David Alan Parnell is an Associate Professor of History at Indiana University Northwest,

Gary, Indiana, USA.
Ioannis Smarnakis is a Lecturer in the Department of Social Anthropology andHistory at the

University of the Aegean, Mitilini, Greece.
Grace Stafford is PhD Candidate in Classical Archaeology at the University of Oxford,

Oxford, England.
Michael Edward Stewart is anHonorary Research Fellow in the School ofHistory, Classics,
and Philosophical Inquiry at the University of Queensland, St Lucia, Queensland, Australia.
Ryan W. Strickler is a Lecturer in the Centre for Classical Studies, College of Arts and Social
Sciences at the Australian National University, Melbourne, Victoήa, Australia.
Joseph Western is an Assistant Professor of History at the College of the Ozarks, Branson,
Missouri, USA.
Conor Whately is an Associate Professor of Classics at the University ofWinnipeg, Winnipeg,

Manitoba, Canada.
xi
ABBREVIATIONS
ΑΑ Auctores Antiquissimi
AABS Australian Association for Byzantine Studies (Byzantina Australiensia)
ANCL Ante-Nicene Chήstian Library
BAR Bήtish Archaeological Reports
BCE Before the Common Era (or BC)
ΒΗ Basileia Historia
BMGS Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies
BS Byzantinoslavica
ΒΖ Byzantinische Zeitschrift
CAH The Cambήdge Ancient History, vol. 14
CCAA The Cambήdge Companion to the Age of Attila
CCAJ The Cambήdge Companion to the Age of Justinian
CE Common Era (or AD)
CJ Justinian, Codex Iustinianus
CM Chronicon Minora
Chron Chronicon
CIC Corpus Iuris Civilis
CP Clarendon Press
CSHB Corpus Scriptorum Historiae Byzantinae
CTh Codex Theodosianus
CUP Cambήdge University Press
DOML Dumbarton Oaks Medieval Library
DOP Dumbarton Oaks Papers
EHR English Histoήcal Review
Epist Epistulae
EUP Edinburgh University Press
frag Fragmenta
GRBS Journal of Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies
ΗΑ Historia Augusta
ΗΕ Historia Ecclesiastica
HUP Harvard University Press
xii
Abbreviations
JRS Journal of Roman Studies

JHS Journal of the History of Sexuality
JLA Journal of Late Antiquity
JTS Journal of Theological Studies
JWH Journal of Women's History
LCL Loeb Classical Library
MGH Monumenta Germaniae Histoήca
NCMH The New Cambridge Medieval History, Volume 1, c. 500-700
NDUP Notre Dame University Press
OUP Oxford University Press
PG Patrσlσgia Curus Cσmpletus, Series Graecea
PL Patrσlσgiae Curus Cσmpletus, Series Latina
PLRE The Prσsσpσgraphy σf the Later Rσman Empire
PUP Princeton University Press
sc Sources chretiennes
SLA Studies in Late Antiquity
SUP Stanford University Press
ΤΑΡΑ Transactiσns σf the American Philσlσgical Assσciatiσn
ΤΤΗ Translated Texts for Histoήans
UCP University of California Press
UPP University of Pennsylvania Press
UWP University of Wisconsin Press
YUP Υale University Press
xiii
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The idea for this handbook was sparked in Κalamazoo, Michigan in May of 2017 at a meeting
between me and the seήes editor Michael Greenwood. Recognizing the Herculean task ahead, 1
invited two co-editors, David Alan Parnell and Conor Whately to help bήng this behemoth to life.
The "tήumvirate" was born. From the start, one of our overarching goals for the project was to
provide our wider audience a balance of topics by both newer voices and established scholars fi-om a
vaήety of fields, methodologies, genders, and geographical regions. After our fιrst baπage of email
invitations were sent out, and a satisfying number of positive responses returned, we then set out the
categoήes we hoped to address, well aware that we could never cover all the necessary angles in a
Byzantium that contained a myήad of"identities" and spanned more than a millennium of history.
Little did we know at the time but gatheήng that first cohort of contήbutors would be one of the
simplest of our "Twelve Labours." As is usual with edited volumes, duήng the next few years,
unexpected events and other obligations would force some of our oήginal contήbutors to pull out
fi-om the project. It was the task of each of the editors to then fmd worthy replacements. Of course,
just as our first contήbutions began to tήckle in at the opening of 2020, COVID-19 hit. Many of us
involved in the handbook were now stuck within our own countήes and homes, limiting our
ability to access libraήes, to interact face-to-face, and to give versions of our chapters in fi-ont of live
audiences. Others were burdened with increased teaching loads and other duties, which magnified
the pressure as the deadline for completion loomed. It is undeniable that the Covid cήsis affiicted
many of our female contήbutors more adversely than the males. So, in the end, the handbook did
not quite achieve the gender balance of contήbutors we had oήginally desired. More seήously for
the ultimate fate of the project, some of our authors either caught Covid or had loved ones struck
down. That so many of the contήbutors persevered under such trying circumstances is a tήbute to
them. Each of the scholars with whom we have had the pleasure to work duήng the past four and a
half years have enήched our personal and intellectual lives immeasurably. So, we dedicate this
handbook to everyone who has played a part in bήnging it to life, both to those whose names
appear in this volume and to those forced by circumstances to drop out of it.

David Alan Parnell
Conor Whately
χiν
1
FINDING BYZANTIUM
Michael Edward Stewart, David Alan Parnell, and Conor Whately
Υou have filled the whole world with rumours of you; you have already captivated
the whole of Italy in your imagination; and you have assumed an air of pήde quite
above the level of mortal men: you imagine in this way that you have fi-ightened the
Goths, but still you sit now in Ravenna without showing yourself to your enemy
through this policy of keeping hidden-no doubt a way to guard this proud spiήt of
yours. Instead, you are using a heterogenous horde of barbarians to overrun a land
(Italy) that belongs to you in ηο way whatever.
-letter from the Gothic Garrison Commander Usdrila to the East Roman General Valerian
(Procopius, Wars 8.28.1-3 trans. Kaldellis)
Introduction
Defining Byzantium
Concerns about the interplay between identity and self are generally perceived by the layperson
to be a product of our modern world. As indicated by the quotation above, however, questions
of identity could be important for the Byzantines and their political ήvals as well.1 What
marked someone as a "barbaήan" or a "Roman" for those οη both sides of the dispute between
Usdήla and Valeήan is complicated. Contemporary perceptions of categoήes such as ethnicity,
race, and nationhood can overly influence our interpretations of how ancient individuals like
Usdήla identified themselves and others.2 Attempts by scholars in the nineteenth and twentieth
centuήes to pinpoint steadfast "Germanic" or "Roman" markers sometimes led to over
simplified and anachronistic definitions of identity for ancient peoples.3 Usdήla and Valeήan
probably shared more similarities than differences.4 Recent literature οη the subject has de
monstrated that the boundaήes between Goth and Roman were more porous than formerly
assumed.5 Social customs cήsscrossed the supposed Roman/barbaήan divide. For example, by
the fifth century CE, one finds an increasing elision between Roman and barbaήan forms of
dress, particularly amongst soldiers. Οη this development Mary Harlow observes, we find
Roman soldiers and civilian officials weaήng "garments and styles previously considered non
Roman... over time they became the 'traditional' dress of the Roman emperor." 6 The "Gothic
DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-1
Michael Edward Stewart et al.
moustache" famously worn by the Amal king, Theoderic (r. 475-526), furthermore, may not
have been as significant an ethnic marker as traditionally believed.7 It is important to remember
that many Gothic soldiers had been born in Italy and as a result were shaped by late antique
Italian culture.8 Their cultural similaήties and sirnilar social backgrounds rnight then explain the
relative ease with which soldiers from both sides had been able to desert to the enemy during
the Gothic war in Italy.9
More micro communal and farnilial identities likely shaped Valeήan's and Usdήla's sense of
self as well. Οη this point, one specialist has commented, 'Ίt should be kept in mind that most
people in those times (the sixth century) were distinguished either by the home of their father
or their birthplace." 10 Provincial and local identities had become increasingly important in the
fifth and sixth centuries CE. It has even been posited that the growing importance of local
identities had "contήbuted to the fall of the Roman west."11 We should also be careful not to
regard Goths and Romans as homogenous groups. Peter Heather contends that when it came to
Gothic identity "affiliation to the group's identity fell off dramatically as you moved down the
social scale."12 Others have argued similarly that the Byzantines' sense of their Roman identity
was tethered pήmaήly to the emperor, Constantinople, and the imaginations of the literate
ruling elite, a view that some of the contήbutors in this handbook challenge.13 As Walter Pohl
has recently discussed, in comparison to other groups like the Goths, the notion of Romanness
as an ethnic identity remains controversial and needs much further elucidation. 14 So, identity,
both in its modern and ancient contexts, is not as straightforward as it might seem. Then as
now, individuals had an innate way of pointing out differences of identity that sometimes defies
scientific or historical explanation.
Το gain better insight into the many layers of identity in the ancient world, the modern
scholar may use wider discourses or ideologies dealing with identities found in a wήter like
Procopius as a valuable tool by which to recover how individuals' and groups' sense of self was
learnt and expressed. As many of the chapters in this handbook will demonstrate, an exploration
of the complex ways internal and external labels were constructed and deconstructed may also
transport us closer to the ideological battlefields suπounding contested political and ideological
claims. Το do so properly, however, one must interpret the sources οη their own terms and try
to block out as much as we can our modern preconceptions. Nevertheless, we must also re
cognise that the portraits of identity found in a wήter like Procopius were open to distortion. Ιη
the case of Usdήla's letter, names were worth fighting over since they were tied to con
temporary contests of power. We cannot be sure, moreover, whether Procopius precisely
recorded the words or even the genuine sentiments of Usdήla, nevertheless the letter offers a
precious glimpse of wider disputes concerning the emperor Justinian's and his soldiers'
"Romanness" and subsequently the legitimacy of their claims to Italy. Ιη addition, as several of
the chapters in this handbook demonstrate, there is a real need to study the post-Roman west
and the medieval-Byzantine east together.15
That Justinian (r. 527-565) considered himself and his subjects as Romans also has important
implications for a study οη identity that uses the term "Byzantine" to descήbe a state ruled from
Constantinople. 16 Scholars have become increasingly aware that the rubήc, "Byzantium" is largely
a construct of later western European sources. 17 It is undeniable that the term Byzantium comes
with some baggage. It has been argued persuasively that the label "Byzantium" was created within
a European colonising discourse intimately connected to hostile Crusading ideologies that sought
to detach medieval Romans from their Roman identity and heήtage by emphasising their
"Greek" and hence infeήor and effeminate "Eastern" identity. 18 Nevertheless, the Byzantines'
"Greek" identity was not always used disparagingly. As we will observe in Leonora Neville's,
Michael Stewart's, and Sviatoslav Drnitήev's contήbutions, many Byzantines saw themselves as
2
Finding Byzantium
the proud heirs and continuers of a Hellenic intellectual and cultural tradition. Moreover, in the
modern Greek nation-state, what is interpreted as the Byzantines's essentially Greek identity,
which serves as a vital waystation to Greece's classical past, has and continues to play a cήtical part
in Greek self-identification.19
"Roman" and "Greek" were only two of many markers of identity in Byzantium. It has
been argued by some that theByzantines' religious identity as God's "chosen people" who had
super-ceded the Jews was far more important than their Roman or Greek identities. The
increasing place of Chήstianity in all aspects of the Roman world represents one of the
dorninant developments ofLate Antiquity and is a defining feature ofByzantium. The edict of
toleration improved Chήstianity's position in the empire, while Constantine I's (r. 306-337)
revelation before the Battle of the Milvian Bήdge (312) and his putative conversion made the
religion more palatable to a large proportion of the empire's population.20 The Chήstianisation
of the elite accelerated over the course of the fourth century, and by the sixth century, it
seemed so pervasive, for instance, that most scholars hold to the traditional view that the
classicizing histoήan Procopius was a Chήstian, despite Anthony Kaldellis's forceful and pro
vocative argument to the contrary.21
Through their deft use of a wide aπay of visual and literary mediums, Byzantine emperors
and ecclesiastics crafted portraits of themselves as the true champions of orthodoxy.
Nevertheless, definitions ofByzantium based οη its orthodox culture bήngs with it its own set
of problems. When it came to religious matters there was never one unified Church or voice;
religious authoήties often faced challenges from dissidents fi-om all levels of society over doc
tήnal correctness. Moreover, what constituted 'Όrthodoxy" could and did shift over time.22
Nevertheless, the Christian state that Justinian ruled from Constantinople had changed as a
political and social entity from the Latin-speaking, Italian-based, non-Chήstian Republic, and
early impeήal Roman empire, a difference that some in the sixth century CE appeared to
recognise, as we can observe in Usdήla's letter.23
Hence, this book takes as its starting point the year 330, the date of the "foundation" of
Constantinople, formerly the city ofByzantium. The fourth century CE was a momentous one in
Roman history, and this civic transformation was just one of many changes usually associated with
the advent of the medieval Roman Empire, Byzantium. And yet, many of the changes we
associate with the Roman world in 330 had begun long before, with the accession of Septirnius
Severus (r. 193-211) and the third-century cήsis usheήng in the expansion and transformation of
the rnilitary and the restructuήng of provincial adrninistration. Diocletian (r. 284-305) introduced
the tetrarchy, rule of four, with two eastern and two western emperors, and although aspects of
this system did not long outlast his retirement, there continued to be senior eastern and western
emperors over the fourth century, effectively establishing two separate states. Along with the
reorganization of the empire at the highest levels (the impeήal office) came an expansion in the
number of provinces and officials associated with its management. Running the empire, east and
west, became more centralised.24 The terήtoήal and administrative division between the eastern
empire and the western empire reinforced linguistic differences, with Latin remaining the
dominant language in western Europe and Greek in the east. Latin remained in use for centuήes
in the east, appeaήng in legal compilations like the Theodosian and Justinianic codes. It also
continued to play an important role in the language of the rnilitary, though its wider usage
dirninished, despite the arήval in Constantinople of individuals fi-om the western Mediteπanean
with strong Latin pedigree in the sixth century, like Coήppus and Jordanes, both based in the
capital but who wrote works in Latin. But while Greek and Latin had an oversized role in the
early Byzantine world, they were by ηο means the only important languages, with significant
literary traditions in Armenian, Coptic, Syήac, and more. Collectively, for all the conventional
3
features of much earlyByzantine literary culture, like the epic poetry ofNonnus of Panopolis and
the classicising history of Agathias of Myήna, there was much that was new.25
The topic of migration has engendered fierce debate, particularly concerning its impact οη
the transformation of the Roman state and the creation of a post-impeήal west.26 Though
much of this scholarship has concentrated οη the successor kingdoms in western Europe, the
movement of people into the impeήal teπitory was ηο less significant in the Byzantine state,
particularly in the Balkans, and, in the second half of the sixth century in Byzantine Italy.27
While this migration could lead to significant destruction in some areas, in others, the inter
mingling of vaήed groups fostered the creation of regional cultures and identity, with the visual
28
culture of Byzantine Arabia a good example of this dynamic blending of peoples.
It is certainly important to underline thatByzantium was not an unchanging monolith. With
over a thousand years of social and political history that spans the late classical, late antique,
medieval, and early modern peήods covered in vaήous academic departments in many con
temporary universities, Byzantium defies easy peήodisation or categoήsation.29 Byzantium, to
boπow Ανeήl Cameron's sage words, was never " static but like all societies always in a process
of reaction and adaptation."30 Ιη other words, the Byzantium or medieval Roman state ofBasil
ΙΙ (r. 976-1025) differed somewhat socially, geographically, structurally, and politically from
Justinian's Empire.31 Yet, there were a number of tenacious commonalities betweenJustinian's
and Basil's worlds as well; there were many lingeήng aspects of identities based οη a common
moral, political, and religious past that linked later Byzantines, socially, spiήtually, and in
tellectually to their classical Greco-Roman, late antique and earlier medieval Roman ances
tors.32 Both Justinian and Basil ΙΙ certainly saw themselves as part of the long line of impeήal
rulers that had begun οη the Tiber with Augustus (r. 27 BCE-14 CE).33
Το sum up, though we should and will debate throughout this volume the use of the term
"Byzantium," we suggest that it still is a useful way to differentiate it from its earlier Roman
incarnations, while always appreciating that the label is an early modern invention.
Byzantium in α Changed World

The ήse of Islam and the establishment of the Umayyad Caliphate in the seventh century as the
region's dominant political and military power marks a watershed moment in Byzantium's history;
indeed, for many Byzantinists it demarcates the dawning of a new age.34 The Arab/Muslim in
vasions of the mid-seventh century and beyond lopped the extremities off of the early medieval
Roman Empire: Palestine, Syria, Mesopotamia, Egypt, and eventually the rest ofNorth Afuca were
all submerged beneath the ήsing tide of Islam.35 Although the Byzantine world was constήcted in
the seventh century, identity did not become less complex or contentious. Ιη a culture built οη the
rhetoήc of religious and political tήumphalism, these defeats at the hands of a ήνal religion and
political order provoked considerable anxiety amongst the population and created ideological
challenges for the ruling elite. While some Byzantines interpreted these defeats at the hands of the
Arabs as Divine punishment for their sins and a sure sign of the irnpending apocalypse, others, as
Ryan Stήckler underlines in his chapter, took a more optimistic stance, predicting that the Chήstian
Romans would eventually tήumph. Others have contended more controversially that it was ηο
coincidence that the peήod ofByzantine iconoclasm coincided with the expansion ofislam.36 Ενeη
if the ήse of Islam did not play a direct role in these debates about the veneration of sacred irnages,
the political and military dominance of the Umayyads and then the Abbasids made Byzantines
rethink their position in the world.37 It has been plausibly supposed that the disputes over icons in
Byzantium, papal and central Italy, and the Frankish kingdom in the eighth and ninth centuήes
were part of a process of these independent entities cultivating distinct cultural and political
4
Finding Byzantium
identities. 38 The establishment ofthe Caliphate had some other unintended consequences. Having
fled lands in Byzantium taken by the Arabs, fi:-om the seventh to the ninth centuήes, a steady flow
ofByzantine monks resettled in and around Rome. 39 The resulting cultural and religious exchanges
between these Byzantine and Italian monks are an underappreciated aspect in the emergence ofa
post-impeήal Italy. As Francesca Dell'Acqua has recendy explained, "The 'Greek' cleήcs were
deemed precious allies of the popes, and for this reason, they were protected, they buttressed the
intension ofthe papacy to consolidate its image as the source oforthodoxy and a spiήtual reference
for the entire Chήstian world. " 40 So too is it important to appreciate how competing ideologies of
identity were formed and contested amongst local elites within the overlapping peήpheήes ofthe
41
Byzantine and Carolingian empires. Ιη some ways, Byzantium's terήtoήal losses created greater
homogenization in the reduced Roman state, which was left both more Greek-speaking and more
Chalcedonian in its Chήstianity. 42 There was ηο longer a need for as much religious negotiation
between Dyophysite and Miaphysite.
Despite this seerning homogeneity of medieval Romans, however, regional differences
continued to matter. For instance, life in Byzantine southern Italy looked rather different from
life in Byzantine Anatolia. Α major question is whether provincial identities themselves were
important to the inhabitants of these areas, or whether they were essentially administrative
window dressing that obscures a common Roman identity. Α number of chapters in this
volume grapple with regional peculiaήty vis-a-vis what it meant to be Roman in the Byzantine
world. Of course, when we use the term "Byzantine" we do not refer just to the peήod
immediately following the seventh-century reduction of the Roman Empire. Another im
portant category of identity in Byzantium then is its chronological aspect. How did the oc
cupation of Constantinople by the Latins between 1204 and 1261 and the subsequent loss of
impeήal authority shape Byzantium's sense ofidentity? Ιη what ways did the identity/identities
of a seventh-century inhabitant of Cappadocia resemble the identity/identities of a thirteenth
century resident of Epiros?43 The passage of centuries and ages is a cήtical component of our
conception of Byzantium, even as it is difficult to quantify in terms of the identities of the
inhabitants of Byzantine lands. We check in with their political, religious, social, and ethnic
identity in snapshots, here and there, and try to conceive of a broader picture through those
bήefglimpses. As Byzantium moved into its rniddle and later peήod a vaήety ofsources provide
windows into other important markers of identity.
The Social Order

Ιη particular, the identities ofthe marginalised members ofsociety are ofinterest. 44 As Nathan
Leidholm and Cahit Oguz underline in their contήbutions, there is significant evidence in this
peήod for the role ofslaves and peasants, always the bedrock upon which ancient and medieval
Roman society was constructed . Although they were not pήvileged, they were integrated into
the Byzantine society, not ground beneath its heel. The early and rniddle Byzantine peήod also
witnessed many powerful women, both οη the throne and elsewhere in society, and this has
generated interest in gender in Byzantium and the wider Mediteπanean world. 45 Ferninist
studies ofByzantium have gradually been joined by gendered studies ofmasculinity and ofthe
role played by eunuchs who, along with supernatural angels were noted for their gender li
rninality. 46 So too have scholars begun exploring in deeper detail Byzantine sexuality and their
appreciation of men's and women's beauty-both in a corporeal and a spiritual sense. 47
Neville's chapter underlines this appreciation for the sensual aspects ofthe corporeal male body
and throughout proves that, when taken as a whole, Byzantines were not always the stringent
Chήstians or sexual prudes depicted in much of the modern literature.
5
We know the most about the elite men who ruled over peasants, slaves, less-pήvileged
women, and everyone else. They wove elaborate stoήes about their identities and about the
impeήal power which they supported or rejected. These identities can be tracked, and tradi
tionally have been, through literary sources, but are also apparent in physical objects such as
coins, silks, household items, epigraphy, and a wide range of mateήal art of the Byzantine
world. 48 So too could the human body-both clothed and naked-reveal at a glance, crucial
aspects about one's identity in Byzantium. 49 As in the modern world, when the ancient
Byzantine got dressed, the type of clothing one chose or was forced to wear in the Byzantine
world could mark not only one's gender, but ethnicity and social status. Indeed, the human
body itself was open to internal and external classification. By scrutinising a wide range of visual
images from Byzantine mateήal culture, Grace Stafford's chapter reveals that nothing quite
defines one's humanity so much as their naked body.
Νevertheless, texts coveήng a range of literary genres remain at the heart of many of the
chapters in this handbook. Αη appreciation of our Byzantine authors' sense of identity, loyalties,
and literary strategies are just as important as mining their texts for information. Individual
authors bήng their own unique perceptions. As Leonora Neville's, Rafal Kosiήski's and
Penelope Buckley's contributions in this volume ably demonstrate, the language the author
chose to wήte in, the religion they espoused, and the regions and macro and rnicro identities
they chose to embrace or reject are vital to better understand their texts and the world in which
they were created.
Romans, provincials, emperors, slaves, peasants, elites, Chήstians, Jews, philosophers,
soldiers-Byzantium was a big tent that enclosed all of these facets of individual and social
identity. More than 500 years after the fall of Constantinople in 1453, the Byzantine world
continues to fascinate and entrance us. Modern historians are not the only ones drawn to study
the Byzantine world and consider what identity meant to its inhabitants. As Adam Goldwyn
points out in his chapter, Byzantium has a collection of adrnirers today, ranging from Orthodox
believers to Greek nationalists, fi-om pήvate art collectors to amateur histoήans, fi-om political
dreamers to Alt-Right white supremacists. Modern Byzantine studies is therefore just as much
an arena for the exarnination of identity as the histoήcal Byzantine world.
Το close, an ambitious project like ours obliges a collaborative effort. This volume consists
of contributions fi-om 24 experts fi-om a range of disciplines such as Art History, Archaeology,
Classics, History, and Religious Studies to provide an accurate representation of the state of the
field both now and in its immediate future. Of course, ηο single volume of essays could ever
provide a comprehensive vision of identities οη the vast vaήety of peoples within Byzantium
and its borderlands over a rnillennium of its history. It is our hope, nevertheless, that this
handbook will provide a satisfying taste of the fecund and steady flow of recent scholarship
dedicated to identity in Byzantium. 50 We Byzantinists have a duty to help shape discourse οη
Byzantium in a way that is histoήcally accurate and that welcomes all people into the study of
these remarkable medieval Romans and the ήch centuήes of their society.
Structure
The chronological parameters of this present study span fi-om the fourth century to the present
day. We divide the following 23 chapters into 4 sub-topics that will exarnine concepts of group
and specific individual identity as they apply to each contήbutor's area of expertise. The four
sub-sections (1. lmpeήal Identities, 2. Romanitas in the late antique Mediterranean, 3. Macro
and Micro Identities: Religious, Regional, and Ethnic Identities, and Internal Others, and 4.
Gendered Identities: Literature, Memory, and Self in Early and Middle Byzantium) have been
6
Finding Byzantium
chosen to provide methodologically sophisticated and multidisciplinary perspectives οη specific

categoήes of group and individual identity. What follows is a bήef description of each of the
chapters by sub-section.
lmperial Identities
Over its long social and political history, perhaps ηο other individual or institution embodied the
ideals of theByzantines's sense of their tήpartite identity (Hellenic, Roman, Chήstian/Orthodox)
as much as the emperor. Α myήad of verbal texts and pictoήal images broadcast to the wider
public the ideal physical and moral perfection of the emperor. Although indebted to ideals of
impeήal and ήghteous behaviour in theRoman and Greek tradition, norms of impeήal messaging
could and did change dramatically over time and even within the same dynasties. These shifts in
impeήal representation did not always unfold in a linear fashion. Hence, a diachronic exploration
of the ideologies suπounding the virtues and vices of the emperors offers an important tool by
which to examine both continuity and change in the way identity was constructed in visual and
literary representations of the emperor from the fourth to the fifteenth centuήes CE.
Ιη Chapter 2, Sviatoslav Dmitήev underlines the importance of including interactions be
tween philosophical and legal traditions in sixth-century Byzantium and beyond when at
tempting to understand both continuity and change in concepts of ideal rulership in Byzantine
civilization. From this perspective, the Byzantines of the sixth century appear to have a mixed
impeήal identity-Greek (broadly philosophical, cultural) and Roman (narrowly adminis
trative, legalistic)-at the same time.
Narrowing the investigation to the short reign of the emperor Julian (r. 361-363), in
Chapter 3, Nicola Ernst examines how Julian shaped his own unique impeήal identity by
distancing his image from that of his predecessor Constantius ΙΙ (r. 337-361). As with many
Roman emperors who came to power under disputed circumstances, Julian's propaganda
trumpeted the philosopher-soldier's martial and moral virtues, while simultaneously denigrating
his predecessor Constantius for his military failures and immorality. Ernst demonstrates that
while Julian sought to establish an imperial identity distinct from that of his cousin Constantius,
he still leaned heavily upon the examples set by his uncle, the emperor Constantine.
Taking a broader historical sweep, in Chapter 4, Chήstopher Malone investigates visual
depictions of the emperor, both martial and non-martial, across a range of visual mediums. Ιη a
culture that revered the virtues of soldiers as archetypes ofRoman masculinity and leadership, it
should not surpήse that the Roman emperors in the early and later Empire utilised and indeed
monopolised key aspects of militaήstic and violent messaging in their self-representation in
mediums such as literature, coinage, and monumental art. Ενeη non-campaigning emperors
like Justinian continued to lean upon militaήstic imagery in their self-representation. Yet from
the eighth to the tenth century, we see a shift away from visual images depicting violent
militaήstic images of the emperor, in favour of more ceremonial and religious depictions.
Malone posits that this shift in ideology may be read in the light of contemporary political
events. He links this change to the ήse of the Caliphate and the more defensive and less
militaήly aggressive nature ofByzantium in this peήod. Underlining, however, the need not to
see these shifts in impeήal ideology as purely linear, the change away from martial re
presentation of the emperor was not permanent. Ιη the wake of a seήes of Byzantine military
successes from the tenth century, one finds the re-emergence of soldier-emperors as role models
and paradigms in a wide range of literature and visual art.
Between the fourth and the fifteenth centuήes silks in a variety of forms were not only key
economic assets forByzantium, but a key medium by which the emperor and those around him
7
to trumpet current political ideology and to bolster impeήal identity. Building upon the work
of the previous chapter, in Chapter 5, Anna Muthesius interprets the visual messaging found οη
impeήal silks. Deftly guiding the reader οη a millennium-long journey through Byzantine
mateήal culture, Muthesius ponders the ways that the makers of these highly sought-after
luxury items spoke through the pictoήal images. What types of images were being used? Did
they change over time? What political ideologies were being communicated by Byzantine silks
distήbuted within Byzantium and to Western Europe and beyond? Moreover, how did this
visual messaging relate to concepts of good order, sound governance, pious rule, and to the
communication of Byzantine impeήal identity at home and abroad?
Romanitas in the Late Antique Mediteπanean

Though much of the recent work οη identity in Byzantium and the post-impeήal west has
sought to uncover the much more complex realities beneath the traditional tropes found in the
early Byzantine literature, in Chapter 6, Michael Stewart exarnines the continuing allure of the
prejudicial Roman/barbaήan binaήsm in the Age ofJustinian. As Stewart argues here, attitudes
toward those labelled as barbarians in sixth-century Byzantium were flexible and mutable; we
have numerous examples that demonstrate that by this peήod many of the traditional
boundaries between non-Romans and Romans had broken down. Then as now, however, in
times of conflict, skewed visions of the past and ingrained prejudicial ideas about "foreign"
peoples cast as dangerous others could and did bubble to the surface. The old Roman/barbaήan
binaήsm indeed had a lingering appeal amongst Byzantine elites that defied the much more
complex realities οη the ground.
Taking a closer look at the ways non-Roman peoples defined themselves, in Chapter 7,
Robert Kasperski exarnines how two different non-Roman histoήans represented the past to
their peoples, the Gothic historian Jordanes' sixth-century work, the Getica, and the eighth
century Lombard histoήan Paul the Deacons' History ι.if the Lombards. The purpose and value of
these types of histories have created a sharp divide amongst contemporary scholars. Kasperski
explains that scholars have used two "conflicting modes" of interpretation when exarnining the
early histoήes of barbaήan peoples. Both Jordanes' and Paul's history may be considered as
oήgin stoήes. However, their role as accurate histoήcal accounts, which built a sense of shared
ethnic identity for the Goths and the Lombards, continues to spark considerable debate. First,
offeήng a summary of these disputes, Kasperski then provides his own thoughts οη how these
groups shaped their sense of identity.
Ιη Chapter 8, Rafal Kosiήski charts the evolution of Romanitas in the late antique world
through a detailed assessment of the personal identities and interests of four authors: John
Diakήnomenos, Theodore Lector, Marcellinus Comes, and Victor of Tunnuna. All of these
authors wrote in the sixth century, but they have been selected to represent different regions
and traditions in the Roman world. By exarnining each author individually, Kosiήski exarnines
authoήal self-identity, drawn out pήmaήly by assessing the wήter's interest in their own
homeland and patήa at the expense of other regions of the empire. The language the author
chose to wήte in and the religion each espoused also loom large in the analysis. Together, these
vignettes show the transformation of Romanitas in this period.
While there have been some recent studies exarnining gendered identities in the Ostrogothic
kingdom, they have tended to focus οη the reign of the Ostrogothic queen Amalasuintha or
investigated perceptions of Gothic manliness and unmanliness largely from an East Roman
perspective, namely Procopius' Wars and Jordanes' Getica. By exarnining ideologies of gender
from the viewpoint of those wήting within the Ostrogothic Κingdom, in Chapter 9, Jonathan
8
Finding Byzantium
Arnold fills this gap. Using pήmaήly the works of Ennodius and Cassiodorus, Arnold con
sistently demonstrates a position that denies the later claims of Justinian's court. Ιη this alter
native view, Goths were celebrated as the manliest of men, even as Belisaήus was besieging
Naples in 536, while the Romans, both past and present and in the east and west, were un
manly, either efferninate and weak soldiers or civilian damsels in distress, who needed heroic
Goths to rescue and defend them in order to live in peace and to prosper.
Ιη Chapter 10, Andy Meπills investigates the mutable identities ofVandal, Byzantine, and
Moorish North Afήca, (circa 400-700 CE). This is a peήod commonly characterised as
marking the last phases of"Roman" North Afήca, in which successive external powers presided
over a shήnking Carthaginian kingdom, while "Mooήsh" or "Berber" polities evolved orga
nically in the hinterlands. This chapter complicates and problematises this model, arguing both
for the"Mήcan" character ofVandal and Byzantine identities in this peήod, and proposing that
Moorish or Berber identities were more profoundly shaped by political and religious impulses
than has frequently been assumed.
Ιη Chapter 11, Chήstopher Heath considers Byzantine identities in the Italian peninsula from
the re-imposition ofByzantine control of the Italian peninsula with the defeat of the Ostrogoths in
the rniddle of the sixth century until the reacquisition of Beneventan independence in 895. The
adoption of this longer time frame beyond the end of the Byzantine Exarchate ofRavenna in 751,
which is usually seen to signify the end of active Byzantine authoήty in central and northern Italy,
allows discussion of the persistence of rnicro- and macro-identities in the central Mediteπanean
that favoured, cultivated, and retained a Byzantine focus.
Macro and Micro Identities: Religious, Regional, and Ethnic Identities, and
lnternal Others
Ιη Chapter 12,Joseph Western returns to the question of Byzantine identity in southern Italy
but expands the temporal boundaήes to the tenth and eleventh centuries. Western seeks to keep
generalisations of group identity in constant conversation with the realities of individual actions
in the region. Ιη a region that has been descήbed as a mosaic of identities, local Greek-speakers,
impeήal appointees from Constantinople, Lombard rulers, and Arabs all rubbed shoulders and
played one another off against each other for advancement. Further naπowing the scope,
Western examines the identities and agency of individuals in Byzantine southern Italy such as
Pήnce Guaimar of Salerno, Pήnce Radelchis ΙΙ of Benevento, and the Byzantine naval com
mander Euphernios. Individual identity in the region is not easily reduced to one or two factors,
and connections between those factors cannot be assumed.
By the dawn of the eighth century,Byzantium was an empire in name only. As we discussed
above, a stήng of defeats at the hands of Arab/Muslim aπnies had seen the lands of the Roman
state dwindle to a mere shadow of its former glory. Some interpreted these defeats as a sure sign
of the impending apocalyp se. Yet, as Ryan Stήckler relates vividly in Chapter 13, this peήod
witnessed less pessimistic messaging as well that indicates the endurance of the Chήstian
Byzantines' sense of group identity. Even in the terήtoήes that had fallen to the Muslims, we
have evidence that some wήters sought to ensure their fellow Chήstians that their status as
God's chosen people remained intact. Defeat was not evidence of God's abandonment, οη the
contrary, as had occurred often in the Roman past, it served as a test of the Byzantines' resolve
and religous faith and was temporary. Chήstian enernies, whether Muslim invaders or their
Jewish neighbours, were inferior to Chήstians who retained God's blessings and awaited their
repentance. Ιη the end, the empire would regain its status and Christians would retain com
mand of God's empire οη earth.
9
Ιη most modem scholarship, provincial labels (Macedonian, Paphlagonian, Cappadocian, etc.)

are seen to have functioned as ethnicities in Byzantium. Ιη Chapter 14, however, Anthony
Kaldellis maintains that they were not ethnicities, but regional identities fully imbήcated within
the Roman rubήc; they were basically regional vaήations, mateήalised by stereotypes, of the
ethnic Roman norm. They drew their force from antiquaήan associations, military units, and the
ancient (and Byzantine) habit of referήng to the population of a province by their ethnika, even if
the ethnonym in question had ηο relation to an ethnicity at all (e.g., the genos of Opsikion,
Boukelaήos, etc). Kaldellis stήves to clear up a great deal of confusion among histoήans who are
taken in by these labels and assume that Byzantium was a multi-ethnic empire because it consisted
of Macedonians, Paphlagonians, Cappadocians, and the like. As we observe in this chapter, being
a "Roman" cut across stereotypes and ethnic divides. What emerges is a "Romanness" more
widely diffused and with deeper cultural and social roots than assumed by many Byzantinists.
Ιη Chapter 15, Nathan Leidholm joumeys into the world of Byzantine slavery. Separating
social from institutional history, Leidholm examines the continuity and persistence of the servile
status in the Byzantine world by developing a compaήson between master/slave and parent/child.
The most ubiquitous form of slave labour in the Byzantine peήod was that of the household slave.
By drawing οη ήch medieval sources, Leidholm elucidates the relationship between master and
slave. One way that the master/slave relationship resembled parental relationships was in the way
slave owners aπanged marήages for their slaves and provided for an inheήtance for them. Ιη many
aspects, Leidholm shows, Byzantine slaves were trapped in a state of perpetual childhood.
The largest part of the medieval Byzantine politeia, the peasantry, is the focus of Cahit Oguz's
Chapter 16. This presents certain challenges since most of the peasantry was illiterate, thus making
the histoήan rely οη the prejudicial opinions about them found in wήtten sources that take an
elitist perspective. The rniddle Byzantine histoήans indeed provide generally hostile constructs.
Sometimes, however, there are exceptions to this general rule. Oguz underlines throughout the
paradoxical images of the peasantry that bely the tired stereotypes. Οη the one hand, when
depicted as a group they could be respected for the essential role they played in both feeding and
defending the state. Οη the other hand, the urbane intellectuals lampooned what they saw as the
rniserable lives of peasants. Υet, a closer examination of the rniddle Byzantine sources shows that
there could be nuance even arnidst these extremes. Emperors could be praised for having been
bom to the "simple" and "innately" moral life of the rustic. Despite the raήty of positive de
scήptions of peasants as individuals, positive depictions of the peasantry as a group are more
common. This seems especially true within the scope of extra taxation, coπupt officials, famines,
and hostile invasions, where rniddle Byzantine wήters emphasised the need to treat the peasantry
fairly and respectfully. So, while they rnight be looked down upon and ignored as individuals, as a
group central to the survival of the politeia, they needed to be respected.
Ioannis Smamakis' Chapter 17 exarnines the many shades of identities in the state of Epiros
duήng its own "long thirteenth century." The multiple identities of the Byzantines and their
mutations in relation to the changing political, social, and cultural context of the empire's life
have been explored in several recent studies. However, in Smamakis' view, the modem lit
erature οη the subject often overemphasises ethnic or even "national" cήteήa when it ap
proaches the Byzantine discourses about "us" and 'Όthers." The rough projection of ethnic
differences, a fundamental characteήstic of nation-states, into the medieval past, ήsks imposing
modem ways of perceiving identity and othemess οη people with totally different mental
horizons. Mter all, the Byzantine state was not a well-structured bureaucratic machine like the
nation-states of modernity, which intervene extensively in the everyday life of their subjects
with the aim of producing stable and coherent national identities. Although, even in the
Palaiologan peήod (1259-1453) the Byzantine state maintained a much more sophisticated
10
Finding Byzantium
administrative apparatus compared to most of the European states of the era, the main goals of
the central government were to ensure military control over its territoήes, to collect taxes from
the provinces and to administer justice.
Ιη Chapter 18, Anne-Laurence Caudano reveals how the capture of Constantinople by the
Crusaders in 1204, led to attempts by Byzantine wήters to emphasise the Byzantines' orthodoxy
as a key aspect of their identity and an essential means to differentiate them fi-om the Latins. Ιη
this time of cήsis, these wήters sought not only to understand the conditions that had led to the
loss of Constantinople but also to differentiate "their" Chήstianity from that of their con
querors. Writing in the wake of 1204, Byzantine intellectuals increasingly sought to base the
faith of Byzantine Chήstians in "true "doctrines, both to define themselves as a group and to
better protect themselves from the "heretical sicknesses" that the now-dominant Latin Church
was seeking to spread to them. Little wonder then that from this peήod orthodoxy became an
even more important indicator of one's Byzantine identity, which could then be contrasted to
the Latins or 'Όthers" (including native Byzantines) who had allowed themselves to be "in
fected" by these westerners' "heretical" teachings.
Gendered Identities: Literature, Memory, and Self in Early and Middle

Byzantium
It is generally assumed that the eventual disappearance of nude statuary in late antiquity speaks
to the growing dominance of prudish Chήstian attitudes towards sexuality and the human
body. Ιη Chapter 19, Grace Stafford adds needed nuance to this conventional view, positing
that such a restricted focus οη one artistic medium and the polemics of churchmen has left us
with a distorted picture. With the statue habit in steep decline in late antiquity, we must look to
other genres of artistic representation. When we do, we see that societal attitudes to the nude
female body were not as simple as such literary sources suggest. Α small corpus of images in
mosaic and metalwork spanning the fourth and fifth centuήes CE continue the earlier tradition
of representing women nude or semi-nude. Through these examples, we can explore how
approaches to the female body intersected with age and class and complicate our understanding
of the role that the body could play in constructing ideal femininity and attitudes toward
women's identity in early Byzantium.
David Parnell, in Chapter 20, presents evidence for at least two different views about the
appropήate role for the wives of military officers and other public officials in the sixth century.
Some elite Romans favoured a restήctive role, which would keep women out of public affairs
and the duties of their husbands, while others believed wives should be allowed more leeway to
travel with their husbands and even assist them in fulfilling their official responsibilities. While
focusing οη the opinions represented by Procopius of Caesarea in the Histσry σf the Wars and the
Secret Histσry, Parnell also demonstrates that these views can be seen in the wήtings of other
contemporaήes, including western ecclesiastical authors.
Ιη Chapter 21, Leonora Neville wields histoήcal memory as a tool to examine the ways
medieval Byzantines interacted with both the people and cultural attitudes to gender that they met
in ancient texts. While appreciating the impact of Chήstianity οη social norms, by tracing the
ways later Byzantines interpreted and embraced ideals found within earlier non-Chήstian texts,
Neville reveals deep continuities with ancient Greek and Roman cultural values in Byzantine
conceptions οη gender. The sincere religious devotion of later Byzantines did little to hinder the
persistence of some pre-Chήstian Greco-Roman attitudes concerning same-sex attraction. Neville
concludes that medieval Byzantine ideas about the virtues and vices of men and women did not
just play lip service to ancient deals, but rather were connected to the fundamental structures of
11
Byzantine culture. What emerges is a Byzantium less beholden to supposed restrictions concerning
sexuality and same-sex attraction than many have formerly presumed.
Ιη Chapter 22, Penelope Buckley considers specific modes of self-identification for these
three seminal rniddle Byzantine authors, Anna Komnene, Michael Psellos, and Michael
Attaleiates. Traditionally, the author of a Byzantine history identifies him or herself in such a
way as to authenticate the truth and quality of the work. Though text and author could be
sirnilar but distinct entities, Buckley demonstrates that our writers' "authoήal-selves" imbues
their texts, and thus offers the modern reader a key tool for uncovering both the "meaning" in
their histoήes and traces of the "real" individual behind them. Moreover, positioning counts:
that of a courtier or family member or disciple or army-follower.
Constantinople may have fallen to the Turks in 1453, but since the renaissance, the idea, and in
some instances, the dream of Byzantium has lived οη. Ιη fact, Byzantium has likely never been
more popular than it is today. Thanks to an abundance of translations in many modern languages,
Byzantine wήters like Procopius and Michael Psellos have far more readers cuπently than they
ever had duήng their own lifetimes. An abundance of new scholarly journals and social media
feeds suggests that the number of acadernics and members of the educated public fascinated by
Byzantium is only growing. Nevertheless, as Adam Goldwyn demonstrates in Chapter 23 this
increased fascination with Byzantium has a more sinister side. Though by ηο means central,
Byzantium has found a place in debates suπounding contemporary identity politics, particularly
within the digital culture of the Ameήcan far ήght. As Goldwyn discusses in the chapter, this
presence manifests itself in the so-called "manosphere," a sub-section of the broader alt-ήght that
consists of the constellation of blogs, websites, Reddit and 4chan threads, Twitter feeds, and
Facebook pages that fertilise the larger "Men's Human Rights Movement" (MHRM or, as often,
Men's Rights Activists, MRA). Of course, these "Byzantiums" are more a reflection of con
temporary identity politics more than accurate visions of Byzantium at any point in its history.
Υet, at the close of Goldwyn's contribution we are left to ponder, just what can these
alternatives-albeit simplistic and flawed-visions of Byzantine identity tel1 us both about the
modern world's reception of the past and Byzantium's legacy now and into the future?
Finally, a note οη transliteration. We have left this up to the discretion of individual con
tήbutors, a reflection of the diversity of approaches to, and understandings of, the Byzantine
world. So, some contributors Latinise the names they use, some stick with Greek names, and
some use some combination of the two. Ιη the case of the latter, it has usually been the more
farniliar names, like Procopius, that have been Latinised.
Notes
1 Οη Procopius' nuanced portrait of the various "barbaήan" peoples, see Michael Edward Stewart,
"Contests of Andreia in Procopius' Gothic Wars," Parekbolai 4 (2014): 21-54; Geoffrey Greatrex,
rif
"Procopius' Attitude Towards Barbarians," in The World Procopius, eds. G. Greatrex and S. Janniard
(Paris: de Boccard, 2018), 327-54. For the Italo-Roman perspectives οη Gothic and Byzantine
identity, see Jon Arnold's chapter in this current handbook.
2 Defined simply, social construction means that one's knowledge of objects or concepts like "race,"
"ethnicity," and "nationhood" develops by interacting with the surrounding social order. For an
introduction to this fraught topic, see John R. Searle, The Construction of Social Reality (New Υork: Free
Press, 1997); Mary Waters, "The Social Construction of Race and Ethnicity: Some Examples from
Demography," in American Diversity: Α Demographic Challenge for the Twenty-First Century, eds. Ν.
Denton and S. Tolnay (Albany ΝΥ: State University of New York Press, 2002), 25-49. For the
intertwining and tensions between of social construction and "identity politics" in our contemporary
world, see Kenneth Gergen, Realities and Relationships: Soundings in Social Construction (Cambήdge ΜΑ:
HUP, 1994). Οη the social construction of gender, the work of Judith Buder is fundamental, e.g.,
12
Finding Byzantium
Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (London: Routledge, 1990). For the social
construction of identity in the late antique Mediterranean world, see Richard Miles, ed. Constructing
Identities in Late Antiquity (London: Routledge, 1999).
3 Οη the ways nationalist politics and ill-informed notions of race informed this work in the nineteenth
and twentieth centuries, see Patrick Geary, The Myth of Nations: The Medieval Origins of Europe
(Princeton: PUP, 2002). Α lively (and unabashedly hostile) synopsis of the main issues surrounding the
dispute concerning the ways people like the Goths established and maintained their identities may be
found in Walter Goffart, The Narrators of Barbarian History A.D. 550-800: ]ordanes, Gregory of Tours,
Bede, and Paul the Deacon (Pήnceton: PUP, 1988, repήnt 2005), xii-xvi; For less emotive summaήes
see, Andrew Gillett, 'Έthnogenesis: Α Contested Model ofEarly MedievalEurope," History Compass 4
(2006): 1-20 and Kasperski's chapter in this handbook.
4 Οη the commonalities between the soldiers οη the opposing sides inJustinian's war in Italy, see Guy
Halsall, "The Ostrogothic Military," in Companion to Ostrogothic Italy, eds. J. Arnold, Μ. S. Bjornlie,
and Κ. Sessa (Leiden: Bήll, 2016), 173-99.
5 Patήck Amory, People and Identity in Ostrogothic Italy: 489-554 (Cambήdge: CUP, 1997).
6 Mary Harlow, "Clothes Maketh the Man: Power Dressing and Elite Masculinity in the Later Roman
World," in Gender in the Early Medieval World: East and West, 300-900, eds. L. Brubaker andJ. Μ. Η.
Smith (Cambridge: CUP, 2004), 44-69, here 68.
7 Jonathan Arnold, "Theoderic's Invincible Mustache," JLA 6 (2013): 152-83.
8 Halsall, 'Όstrogothic Arrny," 193-4.
9 Michael Edward Stewart and Chήstopher Lillington Martin, "Turning Traitor: Shifting Loyalties in
Procopius' Gothic Wars," Byzantina Symmeikta 31 (2021): 281-305.
10 Maήa Kouroumali, "TheJustinianic Reconquest ofltaly: Imperial Campaigns and Local Responses,"
in War and Waιfare in Late Antiquity, 2 vols., eds. Ν. Chήstie and Α. Sarantis (Leiden: Brill, 2013),
969-1000, here 97(}-1.
11 Ralph Mathisen, "Natio, Gens, Provincialis, and Civis: Geographical Terminology and Personal
Identity in Late Antiquity," in Shifting Genres in Late Antiquity, eds. G. Greatrex and Η.Elton (London:
Routledge, 2015), 277-89.
12 Peter Heather, The Restoration ofRome: Barbarian Popes and Imperial Pretenders (Oxford: Macmillan, 2013), 28.
13 Ioannis Stouraitis, "Roman Identity in Byzantium: Α Critical Approach," ΒΖ 107 (2014): 175-220;
''Byzantine Romanness: From Geopolitical to Ethnic Conceptions," in Transformations of Romanness:
Early Medieval Regions and Identities, eds. W. Pohl, C. Gantner, C. Grifoni, and Μ. Pollheimer
Mohaupt (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2018), 123-40.
14 Walter Pohl, 'Ίntroduction: Early Medieval Romanness-A Multiple Identity," in W. Pohl et al.,
3-40; Anthony Kaldellis, Romanland: Ethnicity and Empire in Byzantium (Cambήdge ΜΑ: HUP, 2019);
Douglas Whalin, Roman Identity from the Arab Conquest to the Triumphs of Orthodoxy (New Υork:
Palgrave Macmillan, 2020).
15 See now, Thomas J. Macmaster and Nicholas S. Μ. Matheou, Italy and the East Roman World in the
Medieval Mediterranean: Empire, Cities and Elites, 476-1204 (London: Routledge, 2021).
16 For a recent definition of the terrn "state," see Michael Mann, The Sources of Social Power: Vol. 1 Α
History of Power from the Beginning to A.D. 1760 (Cambήdge: CUP, 1986), 34-72.
17 Ιη Byzantium, the label ''Byzantine" was usually reserved to descήbe a denizen of Constantinople, yet, as
Panagiotis Theodoropoulos has recendy argued ("Did the Byzantines Call Thernselves Byzantines?Elements
ofEastem Roman Identity in the Impeήal Discourse of the Seventh Century," GRBS 45.1 [2021]: 21-41)
as early as the seventh century, some inside the Empire, could use the terrn in a broader sense.
18 George Demacopoulos, Colonizing Christianity: Greek and Latin Religious Identity in the Era of the Fourth
Crusade (New Υork: Fordham University Press, 2019). The label "Greeks" ( Greci, Grakoι) to descήbe the
Byzantines is found in Procopius and other contemporary Italo-Roman wήters like Ennodius. Οη the
pejorative connotations of the terrn Graikoi in Procopius, see Walter Kaegi, "Procopius the Military
Histoήan," BF 15 (1990): 53-85, here 79-81. And for the negative sense of the label "Greek" in
Ennodius and other Italo-Roman sources in the fιfth and sixth centuήes,Jonathan Arnold, Ίheoderic and
the Roman Imperial Restoration (Cambήdge: CUP, 2014), 17. Nevertheless, the terrn could also be used
more neutrally, for example see Theodoropoulos, "Did the Byzantines Call Themselves Byzantines."
19 See David Ricks and Paul Magdalino, Byzantium and the Modern Greek Identity (Νew Υork: Routledge,
1998); Kateήna Zachaήa, Hellenisms: Culture, Identity, and Ethnicity from Antiquity to Modernity
(Aldershot: Ashgate, 2008); Anthony Kaldellis, Hellenism in Byzantium; The Byzantine Republic: People
and Power in New Rome (Cambήdge ΜΑ: HUP, 2015).
13
20 For an excellent introduction to debates surrounding Constantine's conversion and reign, see Μ. Shane
Bjomlie, ed. Ίhe Life and Legacy of Constantine: Traditions Ίhrough the Ages (London: Roudedge, 2017).
21 See Anthony Kaldellis, Procopius of Caesarea (Philadelphia: UPP, 2004) arguing in favour of a Pagan
Procopius and Michael Whitby, "The Religious Views of Procopius and Agathias," Electrum 13
(2007): 73-94, arguing in favour of a Chήstian Procopius. Οη the Chήstianization of the Roman
Empire's elite in the fourth century, see Michele Salzman, Ίhe Making of α Christian Aristocracy: Social
and Religious Change in the Western Roman Empire (Cambridge ΜΑ: HUP, 2004).
22 Αη erudite discussion of these issues is found in Averil Cameron, Byzantine Matters (Princeton: PUP,
2014), ch. 5.
23 On Justinian's reign more generally, seeJohn Moorhead,]ustinian (London: Longman, 1994); Micha
Meier, Das andere Zeitalter Justinians. Kontingenzerfahrung und Kontingenzbewaltigung im 6. ]ahrhundert
(Goettingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2003); Otto Mazal, Justinian Ι. und seine Zeit. Geschichte und
Kultur des byzantinischen Reiches im 6. Jahrhundert (Koln: Bohlau, 2001); Telemachos Lounghis,
Ιουστινιανός Πέτρος Σαββάτιος (Thessalonica: Banias, 2005).
24 Οη the running of the Roman state in late antiquity, see Christopher Kelly, Ruling the Later Roman
Empire (Cambήdge ΜΑ: HUP, 2004).
25 Οη literary culture in the age ofJustinian see Claudia Rapp, "Literary Culture under Justinian," in The
Cambridge Companion to the Age ofJustinian, ed. Μ. Maas (Cambήdge: CUP, 2005), 376-97. See too
Steven Smith, Greek Epigram and Byzantine Culture: Gender, Desire, and Denial in the Age ofJustinian
(Cambridge: CUP, 2019).
26 For the place of mi gration in the transformation of the Roman west, see Guy Halsall, Barbarian
Migrations and the Roman West, 376-568 (Cambήdge: CUP, 2007).
27 See Alexander Sarantis, Justinian's Balkan Wars (Cambήdge: Francis Cairns, 2016) for the impact of
migration οη the Balkans in the age ofJustinian. For the movement of the Lombards into Byzantine Italy,
see Eduardo Fabbro, Warfare and the Making of Early Medieval Italy, 568-652 (London: Roudedge, 2020).
28 For the impact of raiding οη the eastern and Balkan frontiers of early Byzantium, see Alexander
Sarantis, "The Socio-Economic Impact of Raiding οη the Eastern and Balkan Borderlands of the
Eastern Roman Empire, 502-602," Millennium 17 (2020): 203-65. Οη art and local identity in the
early Byzantine near east, see Glen Bowersock, Mosaics as History (Cambridge ΜΑ: HUP, 2006).
29 Cameron, Byzantine Matters.
30 Averil Cameron, "Byzantium Now-Contested Terήtory or Excluded Middle," Scandinavian]ournal of
Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies (2019): 91-112, here 98.
31 For an excellent introduction to Basil II's reign, see Catheήne Holmes, Basil ΙΙ and the Governance of
Empire, 976-1025 (Oxford: OUP, 2005).
32 Οη some of the ways that Byzantium both belongs and stands apart from the modern fields of Late
Antique and Medieval studies, see Cameron, ''Byzantium Now," 94-5. For a recent use of the term
"medieval Roman" instead of ''Byzantine," see Neville, Byzantine Gender.
33 This is not to claim that this was the only connection. As Donald Nicol once noted (The Last Centuries
of Byzantium, 1261-1453, 2nd ed. [Cambήdge: CUP, 1993), 1] a large number of Byzantine emperors
came from Macedonian or Armenian families and hence claimed descent from these histoήcal cultural
traditions as well.
34 Οη the transformative nature of this age for Byzantium, see John Haldon, Byzantium and the Seventh
Century: The Transformation of α Society (Cambridge: CUP, 1990); James Howard-Johnston, Witness to α
World Crisis: Historians and the Histories of the Middle East in the Seventh Century (Oxford: OUP, 2010).
35 For the seventh-century conquests of Byzantine territory as pήmaήly a Muslim, not an Arab phe
nomenon, see Howard-Johnston, Witness to α World Crisis, 527.
36 For debates concerning the extent of Jewish or Islamic influences οη Byzantine iconoclasts, see the
discussion in Leslie Brubaker and John Haldon, eds. Byzantium in the Iconoclast Era, c. 680-850: Α
History (Cambήdge: CUP, 2011), 105-16.
37 Οη the Umayyads see Gerald Hawting, Ίhe First Dynasty of Islam: Ίhe Umayyad Caliphate, AD 661-
750 (London: Routledge, 2000). And for the Abbasids, see Tayeb-El-Hibήayeb, The Abbasid
Caliphate, Α History (Cambridge: CUP, 2021).
38 Averil Cameron, "The Language oflmages: The Rise oflcons and the Chήstian Representation," in
The Church and the Arts, ed. D. Wood (Oxford, OUP, 1992), 1-42; Francesca Dell'Acqua, Iconophilia:
Politics, Religion, Preaching, and the Use of Images in Rome, c. 680-880 (London: Roudedge, 2020).
39 Οη this Byzantine diaspora in Italy, see Marie-France Auzepy, "Le rόle des emigres oήentaux a
Constantinople et dans l'Empire (634-843): Acquis et perspectives," Al-Qantara 33.2 (2012): 475-503.
14
Finding Byzantium
40 Dell'Acqua, Iconophilia, 60. For the use of the term Greci in the late eight-century papal sources, see
Clemens Gantner, "The Label "Greeks" in the Papal Diplomatic Repertoire in the Eighth Century,"
in Strategies of Identijication. Ethnicity and Religion in Early Medieval Europe, eds. G. Heydemann and W.
Pohl (Turnhout: Brepols, 2013), 303-49. Ganter argues that the term Greci as a label describe the
Byzantines had come into common use in the early medieval West outside of the city of Rome in the
eighth century. Still bound to theByzantines' politically, the papal authority in Rome in the first half
of the eighth century resisted using the term. It was only as their bond with Constantinople dete
ήorated in the second half of the century, that we see "Greci" come into more common use.
41 See Mladen Ancic, Jonathan Shepard, and Trpimir Vedris, eds. Imperial Spheres and the Adriatic:
Byzantium, the Carolingians and the Treaty of Aachen, 812 (London: Routledge, 2018).
42 Οη this phenomenon, see the work of Anthony Kaldellis, including Hellenism in Byzantium and
Romanland.
43 Compare with the contribution of Ioannis Smarnakis in this current volume.
44 Of much previous work in this arena, see the contήbutions to John Haldon, ed. Α Social History of
Byzantium (Chichester: Wiley-Blackwell, 2009).
45 For just a small sample of the abundant work οη Byzantine women, see Judith Herήn, "Ιη Search of
Byzantine Women: Three Avenues of Approach," in Images of Women in Antiquity, eds. Αν. Cameron,
and Α. Kuhrt (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1983), 167-89; Pauline Allen, "Contemporary
Portrayals of the Byzantine Empress Theodora (A.D. 527-548)," in Stereotypes of Women in Power:
Historical Perspectives and Revisionist Views, eds. Β. Garlick, S. Dixon, and Ρ. Allen (New Υork:
Greenwood Press, 1992), 93-103; Kate Cooper, The Virgin and the Bride: Idealized Womenhood in Late
Antiquity (Cambridge ΜΑ: HUP, 1996); Lynda Garland, Byzantine Empresses: Women and Power in
Byzantium, AD 527-1204 (London: Routledge, 1999); Liz James, Empresses and Power in Early
Byzantium (London: Leicester University Press, 2001).
46 Helga Scholten, Der Eunuch in Kaiserniihe. Zur politischen und sozialen Bedeutung des praepositus sacri
cubiculi im 4. und 5. Jahrhundert n. Chr. (Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 1995); Liz James, ed. Women, Men and
Eunuchs: Gender in Byzantium (London: Routledge, 1997); Kathryn Ringrose, The Perfect Servant:
Eunuchs and the Social Construction of Gender in Byzantium (Chicago: UCP, 2003); Shaun Tougher, The
Eunuch in Byzantine History and Society (London: Routledge, 2008); Myrto Hatzaki, Beauty and the Male
Body in Byzantium: Perceptions and Representations in Art and Text (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009).
47 For Byzantium's more sensual side, see Liz James, ed. Desire and Denial in Byzantium (Aldershot:
Roudedge, 1999); Smith, Greek Epigram;Betancourt, Byzantine Intersectionality. On men's sexual attraction
to other men, see Mark Masterson, Μαn to Μαn: Desire, Homosociality, and Authority in Late-Roman
Manhood (Columbus, ΟΗ: Ohio State University Press, 2014); "Revisiting theBachelorhood ofBasil Ι,"
in The Emperor in the Byzantine World, ed. S. Tougher (London: Roudedge, 2019). Οη the Byzantines'
appreciation of the male body and men and women's beauty, see Myrto Hatzaki, &auty and the Male
Body. Hatzaki indeed suggests that the Byzantines esteemed men's beauty more than women's beauty.
48 See the contributions in this volume by Christopher Malone, Penelope Buckley, Anne-Laurence
Caudano, and Anna Muthesius.
49 For Chήstian influences οη sexual renunciation and the notions of the body in Late Antiquity, see
Peter Brown, The Body and Society: Men Women and Sexual Renunciation in Early Christianity (New
York, ΝΥ: Columbia University Press, 1988); Cf., however, Stafford's chapter in this current volume
for some nuancing ofBrown's positions.
50 This work has led to some outstanding specialised monographs and edited volumes which have ex
arnined the tripartite nature of identity inByzantium through constructs such as gender, ethnicity, and
culture. E.g., Mathew Kuefler, The Manly Eunuch: Masculinity, Gender Ambiguity, and Christian Ideology
in Late Antiquity (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001); Kaldellis, Hellenism in Byzantium;
Leonora Neville, Heroes and Romans in Twelfth-Century Byzantium (Cambridge: CUP, 2012); and
Jonathan Conant, Staying Roman: Conquest and Identity in Africa and the Mediteπanean, 439-700
(Cambridge: CUP, 2012); Zacharia, Hellenisms. Geoffrey Dunn and Wendy Mayer, eds. Christians
Shaping Identity from the Roman Empire to Byzantium (Leiden: Brill, 2015). The elasticity and multi
layered nature of Roman identity has also been studied in the former Roman territoήes in a rapidly
post-impeήal West that had fallen out of imperial control or had never been ruled by the East Roman
emperors, see Pohl et al. Transformations of Romanness.
15
Taylor & Francis
Taylor & Francis Group
http://taylorandfrancis.com
PART 1
Imperial Identities
Taylor & Francis
2
ΤΗΕ POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY OF
JOHN LYDUS AND EARLY
ΒΥΖΑΝΤΙΝΕ IMPERIAL IDENTITY
Sviatoslav Dmitriev
The Nσvels ofJustinian defined the emperor as the person "to whom God has made even the
laws subservient by sending him among men as an animated law (nσmσs empsykhσs), since the
consulship is ever in his hands, and he gives to all the cities and people and races in each instance
whatever seems best to him, so the (consular) trabea comes to (another) whoever the emperor
wishes; hence the consulship ofthe emperor is in all things united with the scepter." Justinian's
Institutes asserted "that which seems good to the emperor has also the force oflaw ... whatever
the emperor ordains by rescήpt, or decides in adjudging a cause, or lays down by edict, is
unquestionably law." His Cσdex rationalised that "if at the present time it is conceded only to
the emperor to make laws, it should be befitting only the imperial power to interpret them."1
Subsequent Byzantine legislation sirnilarly declared that the emperor was not subject to laws,
and what pleased him was law. Non-legal texts projected the same idea.2
Not all ofJustinian's contemporaήes accepted his vision ofthe emperor as being above the law.
John Lydus contrasted a law-abiding ruler with a tyrant, asserting that "the law is a king's conduct,
but a tyrant's conduct is law." The anonymous dialogue On Pσlitical Science claimed that the im
peήal power should abide by the law, and that a "good emperor will regard the violation oflaws as
more dreadful for him than for his subjects."3 Procopius had sinιilar ideas in rnind when he accused
the emperor ofjudging legal cases "not according to the laws that he himselfhad issued but making
whatever decisions prornised him a greater and more magnificent bounty of money." Later
Byzantine authors also expressed such views: according to Michael Psellus, "the tyrant Phocas used
to say that by abiding laws, the emperor made himself ηο different from ordinary people."
4
The two camps shared the expectations that the emperor would guarantee justice for all but
disagreed οη his legal status and the nature and lirnits ofhis power. Modern scholarship sees the
stance of John Lydus and his contemporaήes as directly opposite to that of Justinian: they
allegedly urged for legal bounds to be imposed οη the impeήal power, or for a constitutional
monarchy, or even for a republic. 5 This chapter argues that Lydus's political attitude, including
his vision ofthe emperor's legal status, was more complex. The stance ofJustinian and that of
Lydus and his contemporaήes were a rnixture of two traditions that can be broadly defined as
"philosophical" and "legalistic." Their interrningling in the early Byzantine political mentality,
and the resultant confusion in modern scholarship, necessitates approaching each of them se
parately, which is the task of the first two parts of this chapter. The third part outlines how
intertwining these traditions influenced Byzantine impeήal identity.
DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-3 19
Sviatoslav Dmitriev
1 The Rώer as Animated Law ίη Philosoρhical Interρretation

Plato offered the earliest surviving consistent theory of royal rule, legitimising it with the ruler's
personal and political qualities. Plato's views evolved over time, however, as revealed by
compaήng his Republic with the later Statesman and, finally, with the Laws, which he wrote at
the very end of his life. 6 The Republic focused οη the ideal ruler's moral qualities. Its leading
character,Socrates, insisted there would be ηο respite from evil in cities, or even in the entire
human race, "unless philosophers become kings in our states or those we now call kings and
potentates genuinely and completely pursue philosophy, and political power and philosophy
7
combine into the same thing." This ideal monarch ruled others just like he ruled himself The
state was an expansion of his self-government, for which he used the divine model. Hence, the
ruler tήed to imitateGod as best as he could.8 As the ruler was the image ofGod, and his own
reason was law for himself and his subjects, the ruler became animated law (nomos empsykhos).
Clement of Alexandria ascribed the authorship of this expression to Plato, although none of
Plato's texts used it, and it did not emerge until later.9Since the ruler's own reason became law
for him and his subjects, the Republic attributed a special importance to his knowledge of
philosophy and four cardinal virtues-wisdom, manliness, temperance, and ήghteousness
which he integrated into his perfect state. Plato's Symposium, which was wήtten at about the
same time, praised the god of love, who needed ηο force to make all men submit to him
voluntaήly because of his four virtues, observing that voluntary agreement and laws were si
milar displays of justice. 10 Xenophon spoke of the ideal ruler as a virtuous person, with
knowledge of how to rule, and as a lawgiver whose laws were above positive laws. 11 The On
Law and ]ustice, the earliest surviving work that uses the concept nomos empsykhos, which was
once eπoneously attributed to Archytas of Tarentum, also juxtaposed animated law with
wήtten laws. Regardless of whether such texts predated those of Plato, they reproduced what
was, most likely, a well-entrenched attitude. 12
Plato's Statesman and Laws probably reflected the evolution of his views after the failed
expeήment to educate Dionysius ΙΙ ofSyracuse as a philosopher-king. 13 The Statesman is still
close to the Republic: a virtuous statesman uses wisdom and philosophy to model his state after
the divine example, whether he rules 'Όver willing or unwilling subjects, whether according to
wήtten laws or without them." As this virtuous statesman is hard to find, the second-best form
of govemment is for the ruler to obey laws, because good laws are wήtten copies of scientific
truth. Although not a philosopher-king, a statesman also enjoys the knowledge of philosophy
and fi-eedom from positive laws that are not tailored to specific circumstances and individual
interests.14 Plato compared the people who employed such laws with patients whose doctor had
departed οη a tήp, leaving behind his prescriptions for them to follow. Only he has the
knowledge to give new ones when he returns, while his patients should abide by his pre
scήptions without deviation until that time. 15 Because he is ηο longer a philosopher-king, the
statesman needs the science of ruling, or "royal science," which, in the end, amounts to
knowledge of philosophy. 16 It does not come naturally but needs to be learned, as Musonius
Rufus explained to the king ofSyήa, praising philosophy as a "political and royal science." 17
Reflecting a further evolution of Plato's views, his Laws did not focus οη the rule of the
philosopher-king nor οη a wise statesman, but οη a state where everyone, including the ruler
himself, lived under the same laws: "because ηο human being can be entrusted with iπe
sponsible power, the rule of law must be instituted." 18 The evolving approach is visible in the
diminishing role played by Socrates (who barely participates in the Statesman, and has ηο
presence in the Laws at all), the absence of references to the word "philosophy" in the Laws
(which only rarely mentions its cognates), the much more limited space devoted to the "royal
20
Political Philosophy of John Lydus
science," and the switch of emphasis fi-om justice to laws.19 While the differences between the
Republic and the Laws are clear, the two works also reveal common points-any form of law is
based οη reason and serves the promotion of human goodness-suggesting that, although
Plato's views transformed over time, his pήoήties remained the same.20 The ruler descήbed in
the Laws was still expected to emulate God as best as he could,21 to possess the same four
cardinal virtues, and to make his laws manifest his reason. Laws ruled over the ruler because
both his conduct and his laws reflected the divine archetype.22
Duήng the peήod between Plato and Justinian, theoήsing the ruler's legal status developed
as two lines of thought that overlapped but remained distinct. One of them furthered the idea of
the ruler as animated law, who used his reason to guide by personal example or by laws that,
since they came fi-om above through philosophy and wisdom, both differed from, and were
superior to, positive laws. This was the approach of the rhetoήcal manual, popularly known as
the Rhetorica ad Alexandrum, which is usually ascήbed to Anaximenes ofLampsacus. It reminded
its addressee that the "model set before most men is either the law or else your life and the
expression of your reason."23 The On Kingship by Pythagorean philosopher Diotogenes ob
served that "what is just is in the law, for the law is the source of justice, while the king is either
animated law or a ruler in accordance with laws. Hence, then, he is most just and most law
observant."24 Both works intertwined two ideas: the ruler's reason, enhanced by his knowledge
of philosophy, allowed him to establish divine law οη earth, and to display philosophy through
his actions, serving as animated law; and since a ruler's law came fi-om above, it was preferable
to positive laws.
The Romans who were versed in Greek philosophy also expressed such views, like Cicero,
whose The Republic, On Laws, and On Duties reflected both the core ideas of Plato's political
philosophy and their evolution. The first of them asserted that "true law is ήght reason (recta
ratio) agreeing with nature." Cicero's recta ratio was a translation οfλόγος όρθός as the guiding
pήnciple of a philosopher-king who used reason to subject himself and his people to divine
law.25 Just like Plato's Republic, Cicero's De Re Publica endowed the ideal ruler with reason and,
therefore, a knowledge of divine law: he ruled himself and embodied law to others through his
life; he urged others to imitate himself and, in the splendour of his soul and life, he offered
himself as a miπor to other citizens.26 Cicero's On Laws held law as the "highest reason im
planted in nature which commands what ought to be done," while his On Duties asserted that a
ruler's love for philosophy and his possession of cardinal virtues tumed him into law.27 The
younger Seneca saw the "golden age" as the government of the sapientes. He marked the rule of
law as the second-best form of government and praised philosophy as the law of life: the
philosopher made his life conform to the law of the universe and taught others. Like Cicero,
Seneca used recta ratio and ratio to define (the ideal) form and (a specific) reflection, respectively,
continuing the ideas developed in Plato's theory of forms, whose origins can probably be traced
to Parmenides. Seneca's reference to his On Mercy as a sort of miπor for Nero-which evi
dently gave ήse to the concept, and the genre, of the "miπor of pήnces"-implied the ruler's
stήving for moral perfection.28 Musonius Rufus saw the ruler as the father and teacher, who
benefited people through his virtue and philosophy; had prudence, justice, temperance, and
courage; strove to imitate God as best as he could; and embodied animated law for all.29
Later in the impeήal peήod, this line of thought was most visible in the rhetoήcal tradition.
Dio Chrysostom's ruler displayed the fine qualities of his soul, had only moral constraints, and
ruled himself and others by laws that were the same as the ήght reason.30 The rule of this good
king, who studied philosophy and enjoyed prudence, temperance, justice, and courage, was not
based οη obedience to laws but οη the way in which he used his power.31 Plutarch juxtaposed a
tyrant with a king οη the basis of whether the ruler had a philosophical education. His Whether an
21
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old man should engage in politics noted that being a statesman was similar to being a philosopher; his
On the Fortune or the Virtue rif Alexander praised that king for his alleged desire to render all upon
earth subject to one reason (logos), to which he made himselfconform; while his Το an uneducated
ruler reasserted that the king needed a philosophical education: reason should rule over rulers, and,
as their guardian, reason was deήved from philosophy. Plutarch's belief in philosophy as making
one's rule more secure paralleled his observation that 'Justice is the aim and end oflaw, but law is
the work ofthe ruler, and the ruler is the image ofgod who orders all things." Hence, the ruler's
life and laws displayed his virtue. Plutarch juxtaposed wήtten laws with animated reason that lived
within the ruler and guided his soul. By his virtue, the ruler "forms himselfin the likeness ofgod
and thus creates statues most delightful of all to behold and most worthy ofdivinity." It is reason
nurtured by philosophy that gave him this understanding.32
Aήstides's Το the Emperor highlighted that the emperor "does not get his concept of justice
from looking to other interpreters but from his knowledge of what is truly fine and good,
deήved from his education." Ιη the next generation, the histoήan Herodian praised Marcus
Aurelius as the 'Όnly emperor who gave proofofhis philosophy by his moderate behaviour and
a prudent way of life rather than by words and a knowledge of doctήne." 33 Thernistius held
Emperor Constantine Ι as "law and above laws" and Emperors Jovian and Theodosius Ι as
animated law, which he juxtaposed with immutable wήtten laws.34 Observing that the ruler's
imitation of God was only possible through philosophy, Thernistius saw the emperor as a
philosopher whose qualities made him ruler as ifhe had been elected by his subjects.35 His Letter
to ]ulian asserted (27) that a man could not be a genuine ruler unless he had successfully
governed himself, and praised (29) the king who "combines all the qualities a king needs owing
to his natural propensity to welcome virtues and employ them appropήately and to display
them first in himself and then among the rest of the population of his kingdom." Judging by
Julian's reply, Themistius saw ideal rulers as "both practicing philosophy and acting as kings." It
is interesting, though hardly surpήsing, that while Themistius's focus οη a ruler's virtues relied
οη Plato's Republic, Julian's response about human imperfections and the need to use laws
refeπed to Plato's Laws. Thinking along Themistius's lines, Ammianus Marcellinus-a Greek
by birth and by education-preceded his portrayal ofJulian with reference to that emperor's
"four pήncipal virtues" (virtutes ... praecipuae): moderation, wisdom, justice, and courage, or
manliness (jΌrtitudo). 36
Eusebius's Tricennial Oration (336) shows how Chήstianity accommodated and enhanced this
approach, presenting impeήal virtues as being deήved from God.37 God was the example and
source ofimpeήal rule, just like the emperor was the source ofevery blessing for his subjects. As
the emperor adrninistered the kingdom ofhis divine Father by framing his earthly government
in irnitation of the divine oήginal, Eusebius's major theme was the likeness of Constantine to
Chήst, and his empire to the kingdom of heaven.38 Just like God united all things in one
harmonious whole, the emperor established harmony among people by passing his knowledge
ofGod to them as both father and teacher. God gifted him with "natural virtues," making him
intelligent, wise, good, just, temperate, and courageous. The emperor deserved the impeήal
title because of "imperial virtues," which Eusebius juxtaposed with their opposites: royal
clemency with beastly rage, liberal disposition with malicious wickedness, prudence with folly,
and intelligence with recklessness. The one who yielded to these vices was a tyrant rather than
an emperor.39
It is not exactly true that, having been graced with virtues by God, a Chήstian ruler needed
ηο philosophy. It came to him from God as the source ofhis reason, wisdom, prudence, justice,
and love oflearning.40 God's wisdom was above law, because God controlled everything, while
being only restrained by wisdom. And since the emperor was the image and the deputy ofGod,
22
Divine Word and royal law were one and the same: neither God nor the emperor, as the living
image of God, could be limited by human laws. Eusebius was the first Chήstian author to refer
to the emperor as "living Logos, law, and wisdom," and as the "Parent ofJustice itself" Ιη line
with this idea, Justinian asserted that just like God gave power to the emperor, God also
subdued human laws to impeήal rule. Following Eusebius, Christian wήters reinterpreted the
Platonic idea of the ruler's need for philosophy by presenting philosophy as a Christian virtue,
and elaborated οη the old topos of the ruler abiding by laws and moderation as being a display of
Chήstian virtues.41 The Platonic theory of the ruler's mimesis of the Divine Being transformed
into an understanding of the emperor as an "image and likeness" of Chήst and an "imitator of
God." Venerating God through the veneration of the emperor became an important part of the
Byzantine imperial ideology.42
The Greek philosophy of rulership developed in stages and eventually produced two distinct
rationalizations, which ancient and modern authors tend to approach indiscήminately: their
view that rulership required a philosophical education reflects a later development, since a
philosopher-king needed ηο such instruction because of his innate wisdom. These two ratio
nalizations of the imperial identity survived side by side until the very end of Byzantium:
George Pachymeres extolled the late Theodore ΙΙ Lascaris as "a man both born and raised to be
emperor, who was royally brought up and educated," whereas Manuel II's funeral oration for
his brother,Theodore, the controversial despot of Morea in 1383-1407, asserted thatTheodore
displayed the qualities of the father and teacher from the very early age and put moral precepts
in practice or, as Manuel mentioned elsewhere in the same speech, "lived by virtue." 43 Α
further challenge to our vision of the Byzantine impeήal identity is posed by the fact that the
Greek philosophy of rulership is also typically held as undifferentiated from Roman senatoήal
views, by ancient and modern authors alike, as we shall see in the next part.
2 The Ruler as Animated Law ίη Legalistic Interpretation

The philosophical interpretation of the ruler's legal status presented him as animated law: his
knowledge of philosophy-either innate or gained through education-enabled him to or
ganise his life in emulation of God and his kingdom in accordance with the divine model,
serving as living law for everyone. The other, legalistic, interpretation of the ruler as animated
law countered the stance of the Roman senatorial aήstocracy that rationalised the emperor's
legal status as bound by laws just like his subjects. We see this interpretation inTacitus's Agricola,
which acclaimed his father-in-law's moderatiσ and prudentia, mentioning ηο other virtues but
military qualities and a disinterest in personal gain. His words that Domitian's greatest fear was
that the name of ordinary citizen would be extolled above that of the emperor revealed social,
legal, and political equality as the pήmary aspirations of the Roman elite.44 Claiming to adhere
to the old Roman custom, Pliny praised Trajan's political and military meήts, leaving every
thing else οη the margins.45 He lauded impeήal liberality, exalted at the thought that 'Όur
personal property is truly our own," and spoke against raising taxes, harsh exactions of debts,
and confiscations.46 Pliny's "impeήal virtues" did not include philosophy, wisdom, manliness of
soul, sleepless care, prudence, and discretion-all of which compήsed the ideal ruler for phi
losophers and rhetors. It is quite instructive to compare Pliny's praise ofTrajan to the traditional
Greek view of ideal rulership as conveyed by Dio Chrysostom's four "kingship orations" and
Plutarch's Sayings rif Kings and Cσmmanders, a moralistic collection with a didactic intent, which
were dedicated to the same emperor.47 Some of the discrepancies between Pliny's and Dio's
views have been noted, but the analysis did not go into the past, focusing only οη "con
temporary contexts." 48 However, it is the histoήcal context which explains why Pliny only
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interpreted vigilance and activity as specific qualities of a military commander, and displayed ηο
interest in sapientia, which the emperor exclusively needed to decline excessive honours, acting
similar to other citizens. Pliny juxtaposed this citizen-emperor with a tyrant, held impeήal rule
as compatible with freedom, and compared Brutus, who expelled kings, to Trajan, who "swept
tyranny away." Pliny's emperor only needed virtue to make him both abide and rule by law,
and while his subjects were urged to imitate his mode of behaviour, the emperor neither could
nor was expected to teach them.49
Pliny's emphasis οη Trajan as a good citizen has been interpreted as the most singular
characteristic of his panegyήc. But Tacitus had been similarly dismayed at the thought of the
emperor being above an ordinary citizen. And the Rσman Histσry by Cassius Dio, also a member
of the Roman senatoήal aήstocracy, urged the emperor to have ηο distinction over any other
citizen and to avoid being called "king." Regardless of whether Dio was personally biased
against some emperors, like Caracalla, his text reflected the traditional expectations of the se
natorial class. The quintessential display of Dio's political views is the imagined dialogue be
tween Agήppa, who argued for demσkratia-this term designated the Roman res publica in Dio's
text-and Maecenas, who supported the rule of a benevolent monarch, which, judging by the
amount of space and detail it received in his text, was the view shared by Dio himself 50 While
Agήppa juxtaposed monarchy and freedom, linking freedom only with the republican form of
government, Maecenas saw ηο threat to freedom and a republic from a benevolent emperor,
and focused his speech οη the emperor's relations with the senate: it was to have a special status,
and the senators should be independent and act as their own judges, with the emperor making
decisions in consultation with the senators and in stήct observance of laws.51 IfPliny's panegyήc
displays "little concern with advertising the personal attήbutes of the particular ruler; attention
is focused οη the benefits of aήstocracy itself," Dio's "Maecenas" believed that "freedom and
democracy should be restored by a single ruler working in close co-operation with the upper
classes and systematically excluding everyone else from decision-making." The debate between
Agήppa and Maecenas had ηο place for the old view that the "ideal state is a monarchy
governed by the one most virtuous man in the community." Dio's only "imperial virtue" was
prudence; he had nothing to say about moral qualities or wisdom or philosophy. Nor did his
emperor teach anything because his knowledge did not come through virtues and philosophy.
Ιη fact, his virtue was to be ηο better than his subjects.52
The emperors' legal status took its final shape when they were exempted from any legal
compulsion, as Dio observed in retrospect, though it is unclear which document his "words in
Latin" meant. Ulpian, too, declared the emperor not to be "bound by laws." This appears to be
the meaning of Nazaήus's words that "ηο one may pass judgment upon rulers." Making a
purposeful choice to abide by laws formed part of the image of a good emperor, which was
upheld by Severus Alexander in 232, Theodosius ΙΙ and Valentinian ΠΙ in 429, andJustinian in
the sixth century.53 However, as Pliny shows, both the idea of the emperor being above laws
and his pretended or real desire to comply with them had emerged long before Cassius Dio and
Ulpian, who merely illustrated how a matter of fact became a legal notion.
Ιη a similar fashion, the senatoήal histoήography and impeήal legislation promoted the same
idea of "imperial consul" from totally opposite premises. Pliny's Speech of Thanks praises
Trajan for obedience to laws, holding the same position as a consul, and having ηο more power
than any other citizen. Pliny is oveijoyed that Trajan behaves just like a consul would, never
overstepping the limits of consular authoήty and, when approached as an emperor, responding
that he is a consul.54 The analogous conclusion follows from stoήes about how EmperorJulian
went οη foot to the inauguration of Mamertinus and his fellow-consul, and how, οη seeing
Mamertinus and his colleague, Julian leapt from the throne and struggled through the crowd to
24
pay respect to the consular dignity, just like any other citizen. Wήting at about the same time, a
man ofletters and a senator, Symmachus, refeπed to the emperor as an official in the service of
the senate and the people, with a special emphasis οη the consulship: his ideal emperor rules
over fi-ee men, with his power being limited by laws and by the senate, as the first among the
nobles, not above them. From the senatorial perspective, the ideal ruler was the one who
himself wished to have his responsibilities and duties legally defined, and to be governed by the
same laws and magistrates as everyone else. Οη the one hand, the attention that Ammianus
Marcellinus and Mamertinus paid to this aspect ofJulian's rulership contrasts with the approach
to Julian's image taken by the Greek rhetoήcians Libanius and Themistius. They made ηο
mention ofhis legal status nor did they compare Julian with earlier emperors, as was typical of
Latin panegyήcs; instead, they commended his personal and political virtues, thinking ofhim as
a philosopher-emperor. Οη the other hand, Justinian's legislation advanced the same idea of an
"impeήal consul" to reassert just the opposite of what the senators put in that concept: for
Justinian, only the emperor could make laws and be immune fi-om their force, thus acting as
animated law for everyone.55
Nor was Justinian unaware of the precepts of Greek political philosophy. Several of his
Novels presented him as a philosopher-king, who modified human laws by adjusting them to
man's ever-changing nature.56 He was like Plato's doctor, mentioned earlier, who gave wήtten
instructions to his patients before going οη a tήp. Having come back and observed that the
condition of his patients had changed, the doctor gave them new instructions based οη his
knowledge of what should be done. The doctor himself was not bound by any written rules,
since it was he who established them οη the basis ofhis knowledge. 57 Justinian would certainly
have been familiar with the old philosophical idea ofthe ruler as animated law, which made up
an important part of Procopius of Gaza's panegyήc for the emperor Anastasius. 58 Νeoplatonic
philosopher Damascius Diadochus, whose life ended duήng the reign ofJustinian, expressed the
same view when he declared that a "philosopher is a greater benefactor of human life than an
excellent king."59 However, Justinian understood this idea, too, in purely legalistic terms: the
emperor was animated law because of his exclusive ήght to legislate, interpret laws, and be
independent oftheir authoήty, while his perception ofthe emperor's legal status was influenced
by the Chήstian view ofthe emperor as the image ofGod, whose power could not be bound by
anybody or anything. The two perceptions-philosophical and legalistic-ofthe same concept,
nomσs empsykhσs, should be carefully distinguished. 60
Justinian's vision of the emperor as the living source oflaw directly countered the senatoήal
premise that the emperor had to abide by laws like everyone else: both views rationalised the
emperor's position in stήctly legal terms. Roman impeήal legislation thus developed a different
understanding of animated law fi-om the way it had been conceived and maintained in Greek
philosophy, which focused οη the ruler's virtue and his embodiment of divine law through
philosophy and wisdom. This virtuous ruler evidently saw ηο difficulty in abiding by the same
law as his subjects because his own life was law, and he taught the same law to all other people
by his personal behaviour. Later authors mixed what we might define as "philosophical" and
"legalistic" approaches to the ruler's status: Greek rhetoήcians and paragons of paideia were
rationalizing in legal terms when they juxtaposed bad emperors who placed themselves above
laws with good emperors who willingly subjected themselves to laws (Libanius), and described a
tyrant as saying that he would put aside the laws and would himself be a law to multitudes
(Aphthonius).61 The same is true for modern scholarship, which not only perceives the Greek
philosophy of rulership as uniform (see Part 1 above), but also typically mixes up the philo
sophical and legalistic interpretations of animated law, by presenting it as one tradition that
survived all the way fi-om Hellenistic times into the Byzantine empire. Among others, Michael
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Sviatoslav Dmitriev
Maas's book onJohn Lydus refeπed toJustinian as the first emperor, who "claimed to be nomos
empsykhos, the living law-though the idea had been tacitly held for many centuήes," and
Gilbert Dagron's magisteήal monograph οη Byzantine emperors defined "animated law" as a
concept meaning that the emperor was not subject to the laws, which the Byzantines borrowed
from Hellenistic literature. 62 This situation is largely explained by the fact that early Byzantine
authors themselves intertwined the two distinct approaches into one new whole, as the next
part will illustrate.
3 John Lydus and Early Byzantine Imperial Identity

Lydus's views οη the status of emperors have been explained as reflecting the Roman senatoήal
stance. 63 His knowledge of Latin did, indeed, give him access, directly or second-hand, to
Roman texts, which he frequently mentions, and certain themes that he raised parallel those in
Roman works. Pliny's praise of Trajan as the ruler who put consular dignity above that of the
emperor, and duήng whose reign "not 'the pήnce is above the law' but "the law is above the
prince," as well as Mamertinus's reference to EmperorJulian, who struggled through the crowd
to pay respect to the consular dignity, evoke Lydus's joy at Justinian's deference to consulship
over impeήal power. 64 Those who see Lydus as shaήng the senatorial view οη emperorship also
call attention to his words that "the law is a king's conduct, but a tyrant's conduct is law,"
which allegedly reflected the desire for the emperor to abide by the same laws and opposed
Justinian's ideology that subordinated consulship and laws to impeήal authoήty. 65 Α further link
between Lydus's position and the Roman senatoήal stance was the use of the concept of
"fi:-eedom," which Lydus associated with the republican government but saw as compatible
with a benevolent law-abiding monarchy. This concept had ηο visible presence in the Greek
philosophical perception of an ideal ruler, but it figured prominently in the wήtings of sena
toήal authors. Tacitus, Pliny, and Dio's 'Άgrippa" pointed out that the ruler should guard the
liberty of his subjects and asserted that the republic was the quintessential regime of political
freedom; Pliny and Dio's "Maecenas" observed, however, that the pήncipate was compatible
with freedom if the pήnce were someone like Trajan or Augustus. 66 The same is true for
compaήng a benevolent emperor with Brutus and virtuous Roman rulers of the past. This topos
is expectedly absent in Greek texts, but it made up an important component of the senatoήal
image of the ideal emperor, and Lydus's favourable compaήson of Justinian with Brutus and
with upήght emperors was deήved fi:-om this tradition. 67
However, Lydus's views went beyond the political ideas of the Roman senatoήal elite. Ιη
the same passage in which he praised impeήal clemency-the most pήzed virtue fi:-om the
senators' point of view,68 which, accordingly, made up a part of the impeήal image in
Justinian's legislation-Lydus also listed the essential qualities of the ideal ruler, which had ηο
place in the senatoήal vision of a good emperor but constituted necessary attήbutes of the
Greek philosophy of rulership. Lydus's ideal emperor was not just always wakeful, eating only a
little simple food, and supporting knowledge, but he also behaved like a philosopher, spent days
οη official business and nights in pursuit of learning, and strove for wisdom. Lydus rationalised
the Roman politeia as a display of the ideal archetype, whose principles were being implemented
with the help of reason, and praised the virtue of the emperor who preserved those state
institutions that found themselves οη the bήnk of decline. Lydus's true ruler was virtuous and
naturally gifted to rule, so that he came to power as if elected by the people. 69
Lydus's reference to ηο one being able to become emperor of the Romans without wisdom
and military prowess bήngs to mind Cicero's words that early Romans considered someone to
be worthy of royal power not because of his oήgins but due to manliness and wisdom, Dio's
26
reference to Alexander the Great as ανδρείος καi μεγαλόφρων, Themistius's praise ofJovian,
who allegedly "restored philosophy" and made the "command of words ηο less honoured than
the leadership of soldiers," and the text, ascήbed to Themistius but probably belonging to
Justinian's reign, that praised the ruler because of his manliness and practical wisdom.70 Another
interesting and important link between the views expressed in Cicero's Republic and Lydus's On
Pσwers concerns a tyrant's distinction from a lawful ruler.Just like Cicero and Pliny's Panegyric
juxtaposed a tyrant as "master" with a king who behaved like a "father," Lydus also set these
two concepts apart when he had to explain that the Byzantine emperor was called "master" like
a good father. 71
It is from this premise that we need to interpret Lydus's words that the law was a king's
conduct. According to his On Pσwers, the ruler should preserve steadfasdy the form of his own
state by his kingship, and to do nothing outside the laws by absolute authority but to ratify by
his personal decrees whatever the best men of his state conjoindy resolve, displaying towards his
subjects the affection of simultaneously a father and leader, such as God and the felicity of
circumstances have granted us. But the tyrant will not treat thus those who have fallen under his
sway but will do by his power rashly whatever at all he precisely wishes, not deigning to respect
laws, not tolerating to enact them in consultation with a council, but being led οη by his own
passions. For the law is a king's conduct, but a tyrant's conduct is law.
While seemingly reflecting the traditional aspirations of the senatoήal class, Lydus's views
also reveal an affinity for the image of the ideal ruler as construed byGreek political philosophy,
with the "best people" as philosopher-advisors to the ruler. Α hundred years earlier, Synesius, a
neoplatonic philosopher and a Chήstian bishop, had pursued a similar approach in On Kingship.
It began and ended by praising philosophy as needed by the ruler: he should train his soul
against a lack of reason, which threatened to subject him to pleasures and other bodily desires
and hold philosophy as his guardian. It is here that Synesius included the maxim later presented
by Lydus:
Tyranny dwells near kingship, and right next door to it, as foolhardiness near to
courage, as license to liberty. The high-minded man, if he is not guarded by philo
sophy within the limits of virtue, will tήp and will become a braggart, and one feeble
in judgment instead of high-minded. Therefore, both fear tyranny as being nothing
other than the disease of kingship, and learn to discern it by its distinctive marks with
the help of reason, and mostly that while the law is his conduct for the king, his own
conduct is law for the tyrant. But power is a substance that they have in common
although their lives are hostile to each other.72
Synesius is credited with having created the genre of the Byzantine "miπor of princes." But he
only transplanted the ideas ofGreek political philosophy, which judged the ruler by whether he
had the necessary personal and political virtues, into Roman political discourse: the truly vir
tuous ruler needed ηο laws because his very conduct was a display of law. This was the stance
of, among many others, the author of Το Demonicus, who saw the ruler's conduct as the highest
law; of Xenophon, who held the ruler as law and above positive laws; of ps.-Archytas, who
spoke of the virtuous ruler as animated law and juxtaposed him with wήtten laws; and of Plato,
with his vision of kings and statesmen as practicing philosophers. 73 Neither Synesius nor Lydus
meant that the power of the emperor should be restrained by positive laws, which was the
senatoήal attitude to rulership. Both authors only reflected the traditional philosophical view
that the knowledge of philosophy led rulers to behave in a moral fashion, making them a law
for their subjects.74
27
Sviatoslav Dmitriev
Lydus's reference that he attended Agapius's lectures before entering impeήal serv1ce 1s
intήguing as we know so little about Agapius and, more generally, about philosophical life in
sixth-century Constantinople.75 Agapius was a pupil of Proclus, whose works included a
commentary οη Plato's Republic but not οη the later Statesman or Laws, which modified Plato's
vision of the ruler as "animated law" (see Part 1 above). Ιη addition to Agapius's lectures, the
knowledge of Platonic ideas probably came to Lydus indirectly, through Synesius or, more
likely, his commentators. Lydus not only quoted Synesius's words about the conduct of the
king and the tyrant verbatim, but he also had his interpretation of the relationship between
kings, monarchs, and Roman emperors in mind when discussing this subject in On Powers. 76
Subtler parallels between the two texts include the compaήson Synesius made between the
emperor who spends time inside, scarcely peeping out to enjoy the sun's warmth, and emperors
of old who led armies to battles, which resonates with Lydus's cήtical reference to the law of
Theodosius 1, who, thinking of his own children, prohibited future emperors from personally
leading armies in battle. Synesius's references to the impeήal rnle ofTheodosius I as recompense
for his toils and virtue, and to Arcadius as having simply inheήted power fi-om his father, are
echoed in Lydus's juxtaposition of those who obtained power due to personal qualities, or by
nature, with those who merely occupied their positions through succession or luck. Synesius's
observation that the distance between kingship and tyranny is short, and the man who is not
preserving himself within the borders of virtue can easily fall victim to vices is reminiscent of
Lydus's stress οη the importance for rnlers to know, and remain within, the limits of their
power. Synesius's claim that the emperor distήbutes his power among the most just and noblest
officials is reflected by Lydus in the sense that the emperor establishes only virtuous officials, and
if they prove to be corrupt, it is only because of the emperor's unawareness or mildness. And
Synesius's sentence that, just as we submit to a doctor who is the most skilful, rnlers are to be
chosen οη the basis of whether they have morals and knowledge to rule-another doctor
related metaphor, which should probably also be traced to Plato-is paralleled by Lydus's
observation that the law-abiding ruler is elected by his subjects, which was related to the ideas
about the rnler's (natural) virtues and about limits of his rule.77
Lydus's contemporaries, too, rationalised the impeήal power by combining the senatoήal
maxims with the precepts of Greek political philosophy. The anonymous Dialogue on Political
Science urged the emperor to abide by laws and conditioned the use of positive laws by moral
qualities, asserting that law subjected the rnler to ethical requirements "even against his will, if
he possesse[d] the sense of shame of a fi-ee man." Elsewhere, the Dialogue referred to the empire
as imitating the divine archetype, and since God was knowable through the mind, a good rnler
needed philosophy to imitate God, combined philosophy and political power to put philosophy
into practice (with references to Plato), and acted as a teacher for his subjects, who elected him
to rnle them because of his virtues. 78 Whether the author was Peter the Patήcian or someone
else, he occupied a position in the impeήal administration. 79
Paul the Silentiary, an important palace official, drew οη Justinian's construction of the
Hagia Sophia to extol the emperor's clemency-the most praised of impeήal virtues fi-om the
senatorial point of view-in connection with a recent conspiracy against him. However, he also
built the ideal image of the emperor as an "abode of justice," asserting that Justinian's virtu
ousness made everyone submit to him voluntaήly.80 Agapetus, deacon (probably of the Hagia
Sophia), both came close to the senatoήal stance-asserting that the emperor received his
power fi-om God, to whom he responds, and advising him to rule by laws and to revere
them-and projected the tenets of Greek political philosophy, speaking of the emperor's
likeness to God, and of his empire to the heavenly kingdom, and how the emperor imitated
God as best as he possibly could. Agapetus praised Justinian as a philosopher and his reign as the
28
moment when the old wish came to pass that either philosophers were kings or kings were
philosophers, asserting that the emperor's goodness was better proof of his ήght to rule than
nobility of birth.81
Another member of the Byzantine intellectual elite, Procopius of Caesarea, whose views
have been seen as reflecting the senatoήal opposition to the reign ofJustinian or to monarchy in
general, began his On Buildings with a reference to Justinian as "whom one would ήghtly, Ι
think, call also a ruler by nature." Conversely, his Secret History decήed Justinian as not only
pretentious, deceitful, hypocritical, and treacherous, but also as one who concealed his anger,
always played false, was a fickle fi-iend and a truceless enemy, always eager to listen to slander,
given to harsh punishments, and most determined to acquire other men's money. Procopius's
aim was not just to offer a gruesome descήption of a vicious tyrant, 82 but a philosophical
rationalization that Justinian was not fit to be emperor since he lacked the necessary qualities.
This made perfect sense when viewed through the lens of Greek political philosophy. Other
texts relied οη its precepts, adding a Chήstian touch but still without making any reference to
the senatoήal stance. For example, the speech Το the Emperor, which has been dated to
Justinian's reign, had its argument "built around the divine qualities of the emperor." It not
only spoke of the emperor's likeness to God, but actually saw him as God, extolling his virtues
that gave him ήght to rule. 83
4 Conclusion
Broadly contextualising John Lydus's political views shows that he and his learned con
temporaήes constructed the image of the emperor by combining the senatoήal assumptions,
which saw the need to bind the impeήal power through positive laws, with the precepts of
Greek philosophy, which went back beyond the Hellenistic peήod. 84 This philosophy held the
rnler as animated law because his virtues and wisdom enήched him with philosophical
knowledge about how to organise his state in the likeness of the divine model. While also
applying the tenets of Greek philosophy of rulership, Justinian responded to the senatoήal view
by defining his legal status-through impeήal legislation, enhanced by dogmas of the Chήstian
faith-as animated law in the sense that he was the only human being οη earth who could
legislate and interpret laws for everybody, while being exempt from their authoήty. The fusion
of the senatorial view with the precepts of Greek political philosophy made up the foundation
of the Byzantine impeήal identity.
Notes
1 Nov. 105.2.4. Inst. 1.2.6; cf. Ulp. Dig. 1.4.1.pr.-1. C] 1.14.12.3.
2 Cf. Basilika 2.6. l, with schol. ad loc., and 2.6.2, 2.6.4. Proch. Nom. 1.1.39. Agapet. 21-23, 64; Cecaum.,
ίη Gennadiy G. Litavήn, Sovety i rasskazy Kekavmena (Moscow: Nauka, 1972), 274.1-2; Maurop. 35-
36, 42-44, 54-64, including οη the emperors' "unaccountability": Apostolos Karpozilos, The Letters rif
rif
Ioannes Mauropous, Metropolitan Euchaita (Thessalonike: Association for Byzantine Research, 1990),
105-7. Οη such evidence from medieval Europe and later Byzantium, see numerous references by
Arthur Steinwenter, "Nomos empsykhos. Zur Geschichte einer politischen Theoήe," Anzeiger.
Osterreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften. Phil.-hist. ΚΙ. 133 (1946): 250-7 and 258-9, respectively.
3 Lyd. Mag. 1.3.5-7 (1.3.7; see nts. 65 and 72 below). Dial. 5.21, ίη Carlo Maήa Mazzucchi, Menae
patricii cum Thoma referendario De Scientia politica dialogus (Milan: Vita e pensiero, 1982), 20.
4 Proc. Anecd. 13.21, 14.5. Psell. Hist. Synt. 75.
5 Michael Maas, ]ohn Lydus and the Roman Past (London: Roudedge, 1992), 85; Charles Pazdernik,
"Justinianic Ideology and the Power of the Past," ίη CCAJ, ed. Μ. Maas (Cambridge: CUP, 2005),
195, 202. Constitutional monarchy: Agostino Pertusi, 'Ί principi fondamentali della concezione del
29
Sviatoslav Dmitriev
potere a Bisanzio," Bullettino dellΊstituto storico italiano per il Medio Evo e archivio muratoriano 80 (1968):
22; Dieter Simon, "Princeps legibus solutus: Die Stellung des byzantinischen Kaisers zum Gesetz," ίη
Gedachtnisschrifί fiίr W. Kunkel, ed.D. Norr (Frankfurt a.M.: V. Κlostermann, 1984), 460. Republic:
Anthony Kaldellis, "Republican Theory and Political Dissidence ίη Loannes Lydos," BMGS 29
(2005): 1, 9, and The Byzantine Republic. People and Power in New Rome (Cambήdge, ΜΑ: HUP, 2015),
68-9; Mihail-George Hancu, 'Ίη the end there was the beginning: pagan cosmogonies ίη the age of
Justinian," Acta Antiqua Academiae Scientiarum Hungaήcae 56 (2016), 527; Marion Kruse, The
Politics of Roman Memory: from the Fall of the Westem Empire to the Age ofJustinian (Philadelphia:
University of Pennsylvania Press, 2019), 136.
6 E.g., Trevor J. Saunders, "Plato's Later Political Thought," ίη The Cambridge Companion to Plato, ed. R.
Κraut (Cambήdge: CUP, 1992), 484, η. 5. Οη Laws as published after Plato's death:Diog. Laert. 3.37.
7 Socrates's words: Plat. Rep. 473cd (οί βασιλης τε νυν λεγόμενοι καί δυνάσται), 485a-486d, 500ce,
with Malcolm Schofield, Plato: Political Philosophy (Oxford: OUP, 2006), 160-1. Socrates meant
philosophers by nature rather than by education: Rep. 485c, 486a.
8 Happiness: Plat. Rep. 343bc, 344ac, 421ab; self-control, moderation: 389de; rule: 580c. Imitation of
god: 473cd, 474bc, 500cd, 613ab, withDominic O'Meara, Platonopolis: Platonic Political Philosophy in
Late Antiquity (Oxford: OUP, 2003), 178-80; David Τ. Runia, 'The Theme of 'Becoming like God'
ίη Plato's Republic," ίη Dialogues on Plato's Politeia (Republic): Selected Papersfrom the Ninth Symposium
Platonicum, eds. Ν. Notomi and L. Bήsson (Sankt Augustin: Academia, 2013), 288-93.
9 Clem. Alex. Strom. 2.4.18. Cf. Aήst. Polit. 3.8.1-2, 1284a.13-14: if the ruler is equal to god, he has ηο
laws above him, as he himself is law; andDiotogenes (see nt. 24 below).
10 Philosophy: Malcolm Schofield, "The Disappearance of the Philosopher Κίηg," ίη Proceedings of the
Boston Area Colloquium in Ancient Philosophy, vol. 13, 1997, eds. J. J. Cleary and G. Μ. Gurtler (Leiden
and Boston: Brill, 1999), 226-7 and Plato: Political Philosophy, 157. Virtues: Louis-Andre Dorion,
"Socrate et la basilike tekhne: essai d'exegese comparative," ίη Socrates: 2400 Years Since His Death (A.D.
399-2001), ed. V. Karasmanis (Athens: European Cultural Center ofDelphi, 2004), 56; with a clear
reference to Plato's ideas, his contemporary, Isocrates (10.1), mentioned that these virtues were
identical and not in-born but obtained through knowledge (episteme). The good state: Plat. Rep. 427e,
428a, 500e; Symp. 196bd.
11 Knowledge: Xen. Mem. 3.9.1Ο, and Xen. Cyr. 1.1.3: οη the Persians as loving Cyrus for his virtues
and, hence, wishing to become his subjects. Virtues: Xen. Cyr. 1.2.6-10: justice, honesty, temperance,
self-control, courage; cf 8.1.22: "for he thought he perceived that men are made better through even
the wήtten law, while the good ruler he regarded as a law with eyes for men," with Gerhard Jean
Daniel Aalders, "Νόμος εμψυχος," ίη Politeia und Res Publica. Beitrdge zum Verstdndnis von Politik, Recht
und Staat in der Antike, ed. Ρ. Steinmetz (Wiesbaden: F. Steiner, 1969), 315-29, here 319; Margheήta
Isnardi Parente, fl pensiero politico di Platone (Rome and Bari: Laterza, 1996), 45 (nt. 65); Jan Manuel
Schulte, Speculum Regis: Studien zur Fiίrstenspiegel-Literatur in der griechisch-romischen Antike (Mίinster:
LIT, 2001), 82 (nt. 129). Tracing such views to Socrates: Stefan Schorn, "The Philosophical
Background ofXenophon's Poroi," ίη Xenophon: Ethical Principles and Historical Enquiry, eds. F. Hobden
and C. Tuplin (Leiden and Boston: Bήll, 2012), 689-724; their pre-Platonic oήgins: Steinwenter,
"Nomos empsykhos," 264.
12 Holger Thesleff, The Pythagorean Texts of the Hellenistic Period (Λbο: Λbο Akademi, 1965), 33 = Stobae.
4.1.135: νόμων δέ ό μεν εμψυχος βασιλεύς, ό δέ iiψυχος γράμμα, and William Κlassen, "The Κίηg as
'Living Law' with Particular Reference to Musonius Rufus," Studies in Religion 14 (1985): 66-7, who
accepted the text as Archytas' work, but acknowledged its problematic dating; Carl Huffman, Archytas
ofTarentum: Pythagorean, Philosopher and Mathematician King (Cambήdge: CUP, 2005), 599-601. Roger
Brock, Greek Political Imagery from Homer to Aristotle (London: Bloomsbury, 2013), 14, 166 attήbuted
the earliest (known) use of this concept to Xenophon's Cyropaedia. The latter is, however, usually
dated to 370, that is ten years after the Republic; nor didXenophon use the concept, speaking of a good
ruler as the one to whom all other people willingly submitted since he acted as 'Ίaw with eyes" to
them: Cyr. 1.1.3, 1.2.6-10, 8.1.22.
13 See Plato, Seventh Letter, with Malcolm Schofield, "Plato and Practical Politics," ίη The Cambridge
History of Greek and Roman Political Thought, eds. C. Rowe and Μ. Schofield (Cambridge: CUP, 2010),
293-302 οη Plato's authorship. This opinion: Glenn Morrow, Plato's Cretan City: Α Historical
Interpretation of the Laws (Pήnceton: PUP, 1960), 154, 583; George Κlosko, The Development of Plato's
Political Theory (London: Methuen, 1986), 183-8; Isnardi Parente, fl pensiero politico di Platone, 51-6;
WilliamDesmond, Philosopher-Kings of Antiquity (London: Continuum, 2011), 31.
30
14 The rule: Plat. Politic. 293a (the quote), 293c, 294a: "the best thing is not that the laws should prevail,
but rather the kingly man who possesses wisdom." The second-best form of government: Plat. Politic.
292a-293c, 300ae, with Κlosko, Plato's Political Theory, 190. The ruler: 292b-293a, 293e-294c.
Inflexibility of positive laws: 294a-295a, with Hunington Cairns, "Plato's Theory of Law," Harvard
Law Review 56 (1942): 359-87, here 362.
15 Doctor: Plat. Politic. 295ae; cf 296e-297a: the captain of a ship guides the ship not by issuing wήtten
rules but by turning his science into law, 300cd, 300e: "royal art" (βασιλική τέχνη); see 295e: such
laws could be wήtten or not.
16 Cf Dimiter Angelov, "Classification of Political Philosophy and the Concept of Royal Science ίη
rif
Byzantium," ίη The Many Faces Byzantine Philosophy, eds. Β. Byden and Κ. Ierodiakonou (Athens:
The Norwegian Institute at Athens, 2012), 34-8, who neither discusses Plato's Republic (cf 35 η. 45:
the two works used indiscήminately) nor, for that reason, makes a clear distinction between a "phi
losopher king" and a "statesman."
17 Rufus, fr. VIII, ίη Ο. Hense, C. Musonii Ruji reliquiae (Leipzig: Β. G. Teubner, 1905), 40, and nt. 29
below.
18 Κlosko, Plato's Political Theory, 199, with reference to Plat. Lg. 713-714b, and Glenn Μοποw, "Plato
and the Rule of Law," The Philosophical Review 50 (1941): 105-26, here 107; Saunders, "Plato's Later
Political Thought," 465; Kai Trampedach, Platon, die Akademie und die zeitgenossische Politik (Stuttgart:
F. Steiner, 1994), 221-4; Isnardi Parente, ΙΙ pensiero politico di Platone, 47; Schofield, "Philosopher
Κίηg," 216-7; cf. Julia Annas, "Virtue and Law ίη Plato," ίη Plato's Laws. Α Critical Guide, ed. C.
Bobonich (Cambήdge: CUP, 2010), 72.
19 Socrates: Charles Gήswold, "Socrates' Political Philosophy," ίη The Cambridge Companion to Socrates,
ed. D. R. Moπison (Cambήdge: CUP, 2011), 334. Education: Κlosko, Plato's Political Theory, 200--6;
Schofield, "Philosopher King," 222; Mark Lutz, Divine Law and Political Philosophy in Plato's Laws
(DeKalb: NIU Press, 2012), 138, 168-70.Justice:Joseph Maguire, "Plato's Theory of Natural Law,"
Yale CS 10 (1947): 151; David Keyt, "Plato onJustice," ίη Socratic, Platonic and Aristotelian Studies:
rif
Essays in Honor G. Santas, ed. G. Anagnostopoulos (New York: Spήnger, 2011), 255-70, here 255;
cf a different interpretation of this shift: Chήstopher Rowe, 'ΌηJustice and Other Virtues ίη the
Republic: WhoseJustice, Whose Virtues?" ίη Dialogues on Plato's Politeia (Republic), eds. Ν. Notomi and
L. Bήsson (Sankt Augustin: Academia, 2013), 49-59.
20 The complementary relationship between these works: Andre Laks, "Legislation and Demiurgy: Οη
the Relationship Between Plato's Republic and Laws," CIAnt 9 (1990): 209-29; Morrow, Plato's Cretan
City, 577-84; Annas, "Virtue and Law ίη Plato," 72; Isnardi Parente, ΙΙ pensiero politico di Platone, 45;
Schofield, "Philosopher Κίηg," 232-3; Chήstopher Rowe, "The Place of the Republic in Plato's
Political Thought," ίη The Cambridge Companion to Plato's Republic, ed. G. R. F. Feπaή (Cambήdge:
CUP, 2007), 27-54; Desmond, Philosopher-Kings, 31-2; Luc Bήsson, "Plato's View οη Greek
Government," ίη Α Companion to Ancient Greek Government, ed. Η. Beck (Malden: Wiley-Blackwell,
2013), 93-104; Malcolm Schofield, 'Ίntroduction," ίη Plato:Laws, ed. Μ. Schofield (Cambήdge:
CUP, 2016), 6-7.
21 Cf Plat. Rep. 10, 613ab; Lg. 716c. Plato's development of this idea: David Sedley, "The Ideal of
Godlikeness," ίη Oxford Readings in Philosophy: Plato, vol. 2, ed. G. Fine (Oxford: OUP, 1999),
309-28;Julia Annas, Platonic Ethics, Old and New (Ithaca, ΝΥ: Cornell UP, 1999), 52-71.
22 The four virtues: Plat. Lg. 631c, 632c; cf 630b. Law as a "distήbution of reason": Plat. Politic. 297a,
Ig.713e-714a, 890d (λόγος όρθός), 957c, with Isnardi Parente, ΙΙ pensiero politico di Platone, 45; Κlaus.
Schopsdau, Platon, Nomoi (Gesetze), Buch IV-VII, tr. and comm. (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck &
Ruprech, 2003), 192-3; Keyt, "Plato οη Justice," 269. Cf. Cairns, "Plato's Theory of Law," 364;
Μοποw, Plato's Cretan City, 587-90; Lutz, Divine Law, 175.
23 Anaximen. Ars rhet. 3-4, 1420a.20-25, which Aalders, "Νόμος εμψυχος," 318 saw as reflecting the idea
of the ruler as animated law; and 7, 1420b.13-14. Its dating and authorship: Pierre Chiron, "The
Rhetoήc to Alexander," ίη Α Companion to Greek Rhetoric, ed. Ι. Worthington (Malden: Wiley
Blackwell, 2010), 100-4.
24 Louis Delatte, Les traitέs de Ια Royautέ d'Ecphante, Diotogene et Sthέnidas (Paήs: Les Belles Lettres, 1942),
37, 39 = Thesleff, Pythagorean Texts, 71 = Stobae. 4.7.61. His emphasis οη a ruler's wisdom: Lucio
Bertelli, "Peri basileias: i trattati sulla regalita dal IV secolo a.C. agli apocήfi pitagoήci," ίη ΙΙ Dio mortale.
Teologie politiche tra antico e contemporaneo, eds. Ρ. Bettiolo and G. Filoramo (Brescia: Morcelliana, 2002),
50-5 οη its Stoic roots.
31
Sviatoslav Dmitriev
25 Cic. Rep. 3.27 = Lact. Div. Inst. 6.8.6: est quidem vera lex recta ratio naturae congruens; cf. Plat. Lg. 890d
and Clem. Alex. Strom. 2.4.18 (see nts. 22 and 9 above). The concept had been used by Zeno, who
posited that the aim of life was to live ίη agreement with natural law (Diog. Laert. 7.87; cf. Cic. De
Nat. Deor. 1.36), and Diogenes, who held ήght reason as universal law, Diog. Laert. 7.88: ό νόμος ό
κοινός, δσπερ έστίν ό όρθός 'λόγος.
26 Cic. Rep. 1.52 (suam vitam ut legem praefert suis civibus), 2.69 (ut ad imitationem sui vocet alios, ut sese
splendore animi et vitae suae sicut speculum praebeat civibus) withJed Atkins, Cicero on Politics and the Limits of
Reason (Cambridge: CUP, 2013), 73-4. Οη this idea ίη later authors: Procopius of Gaza (see nt. 58
below) and Jonathan G. F. Powell, "Cicero's Reading of Plato's Republic," ίη Ancient Approaches to
Plato's Republic, ed. Α. Sheppard (London: Institute of Classical Studies, University of London,
2013), 45-7.
27 Cic. De Leg. 1.18, 2.8, 3.4. Love for wisdom: De Off. 1.15, 1.18; the virtues: 1.15 (modestia, temper
antia, sapientia, prudentia), 1.18-20, 1.61, 1.89. Cf. De Off. 2.41: ancient Persians and early Romans also
made virtuous people (bene moratι) into kings.
28 The "golden age": Sen. Ep. 90.6. The "law of life": 90.34, 94.39, 95: οη "laws of philosophy" as
juxtaposed with human laws. The recta ratio: 90.24; cf. 90.31. Forms and reflections: Plat. Rep. 476a-
480a, with Schofield, Political Philosophy, 160. Sen. Clem. 1.1.1, with Susanna Μ. Braund, "Praise and
Protreptic ίη Early Impeήal Panegyήc: Cicero, Seneca, Pliny," ίη The Propaganda of Power. The Role of
Panegyric in Late Antiquity, ed. Μ. Whitby (Leiden: Brill, 1998), 55 ("modelled οη Hellenistic kingship
treaties"). The point is well illustrated by Seneca's references to "king/s and potentate/s" (Clem. 1.3.3:
regem aut principem, 1.4.3: principes regesque), which have been explained by the negative connotation of
the word "king": Malcolm Schofield, "Seneca οη Monarchy and the Political Life: De Clementia, De
Tranquillitate Animi, De Otio," ίη The Cambridge Companion to Seneca, eds. S. Bartsch and Α. Schiesaro
(Cambήdge: CUP, 2015), 70 (with bibliography). But Seneca's words carry ηο such connotation, and
we may trace their roots to Plato, Rep. 473cd (see nt. 7 above).
29 Rufus, fr. VIII, ίη Hense, C. Musonii Rufi reliquiae, 32, 33, and 37: νόμον εμψυχον είναι (= Stobae.
4.7.67), respectively. These virtues: Cora Ε. Lutz, "Musonius Rufus. 'The Roman Socrates," Yale CS
10 (1947): 27; Κlassen, "The Κing as 'Living Law," 63-6; James Τ. Dillon, Musonius Rufus and
Education in the Good Life (Dallas: University Press of Ameήca, 2004), 10-11.
30 Dio 1.6, 13, with Anne Gangloff, Dion Chrysostome et les mythes. Hellέnisme, communication et philosophie
politique (Grenoble: J. Millon, 2006), 324-5, tracing Dio's views to Plato's Republic: 328-9. Moral
constraints: Dio 1.8; self-control: 1.14; λόγος όρθός: 1.75. Cf. Libanius's praise of Julian, who saw
everything correctly by the force of reason; Or. 13.28: πάντα μεν είδες τοίς λογισμοίς όρθώς, with nts.
22 and 25 above.
31 Philosophy: Dio 2.26-27, 3.3, 3.7, 3.10, 3.45. Education: 4.26-39; self-control: 4.55-115.
32 Plut. Dion 10.1-2. Statesmanship and philosophy: Plut. An seni resp. 796d. Reason: Plut. Fort. virt. Alex.
330d; Ad princ. iner. 779df; philosophy as ruler's guardian: 779e; philosophy and justice: 779ef, 780e.
See Ibid., 780c (εμψυχος ων έν αύτφ λόγος), 780ef, 780[, 782a. Tracing Plutarch's view οη (philo
sophical) reasoning to Plato: Gerhard J. D. Aalders and Lukas de Blois, "Plutarch und die politische
Philosophie der Gήechen," ίη Aufstieg und Niedergang der romischen Welt, eds. J. Vogt and Η.
Tempoήni. Ser. ΙΙ, vol. 36.5 (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1992), 3389-97; Aldo Tirelli, "Dal nomos empsychos
al logos empsychos: potere e responsabilita nel pensiero politico di Plutarco," ίη Plutarco e Ια cultura della
sua etά, eds. Ρ. Volpe Cacciatore and F. Ferraή (Naples: Μ. D'Auήa, 2007), 311-35; Bernard Boulet,
"The Philosopher-King," ίη Α Companion to Plutarch, ed. Μ. Beck (Malden: Wiley-Blackwell, 2014),
453-57. Teacher and model: Geert Roskam, 'Ά Paideia for the Ruler: Plutarch's Dream of
Collaboration Between Philosopher and Ruler," ίη Sage and Emperor. Plutarch, Greek Intellectuals, and
Roman Power in the Time of Trajan: 98-117 A.D., eds. Ρ. Α. Stadter and L. V. der Stockt (Leuven:
Leuven UP, 2002), 175-89, here 182-3.
33 Aήstid. Or. 35.11-12, 16-35, 18 (the quote). Hdn. 1.2.4.
34 Them. Or. 1, 15b; 16, 212d; 19, 228a; and 34.38: εί τάς δίκας έδίκαζον κατά νόμους, πρός τόν
εμψυχον εβλεπον νόμον, with Ilaήa. Ramelli, fl basileus come nomos empsychos tra diritto naturale e
diritto divino (Naples: Bibliopolis, 2006), 111-22, who traced such views to Platonic philosophy. Cf.
juxtaposing animated law with wήtten ordinances: Xen. Cyr. 8.1.22 and Plat. Politic. 294a (see nts. 11
and 14 above); D.C. 53.18.1 (see nt. 53 below). Tracing Themistius's stance to Plato: Gilbert Dagron,
"L'Empire romain d'Oήent au IVe siecle et les traditions politiques de l'hellenisme. Le temoignage de
Themistios," Travaux et mέmoires 3 (1968): 131; Aalders, "Νόμος εμψυχος,'' 315; Bruno Colpi, Die
παιδεία des Themistios (Bern: Ρ. Lang, 1987), 90-91. Aalders, however, believed that it did not
32
constitute an 'Όfficial ideology of late Roman empire." But it did-in legal decisions since the late
second century, as we shall see below, and intoJustinian's time; cf. Dagron's view ofthe "loi vivante"
as a legal concept, 129: "une notion juήdique."
35 The imitation ofGod: Them. Or. 2, 32d; emperor as philosopher: 2, 39d-40b; 17, 214ad; his election:
5, 66b.
36 Julian, Letter to Themistius, 1: Simon Swain, Themistius, Julian, and Greek Political Theory under Rome
(Cambridge: CUP, 2013), 134-59, 161. Cf. Peter Heather and Doug Moncur, Politics, Philosophy, and
Empire in the Fourth Century: Select Orations cif Themistius (Liverpool: LUP, 2001), 139: these were
"traditional Themistian themes." See Swain, ibid., 160-79, incl. 168-71 οη Plato's Laws; Thomas
Gerhardt, "Philosophie und Herrschertum aus der Sicht des Themistios," in Gelehrte in der Antike.
Alexander Demandt zum 65. Geburtstag, eds. Α. Goltz et al. (Cologne: Η. BoWau, 2002), 194-5.
Amm. 25.4.1.
37 Reinterpreting the ruler's status in Chήstian terms from Constantine's reign: Gilbert Dagron, Emperor
and Priest. The Imperial Office in Byzantium, trans. J. Birrell (Cambήdge: CUP, 2003), 127-57; cf.
Wilhelm Blum, Byzantinische Fiίrstenspiegel: Agapetos, Theophykt von Ochrid, Thomas Magister (Stuttgart:
Α. Hiersemann, 1981), 9. Eusebius as the founder ofthe Chήstian view ofthe ideal ruler: Norman Η.
Baynes, Byzantine Studies and Other Essays (London: AtWone, 1955), 168-72; Franz Dolger, Byzanz
und die europiiische Staatenwelt (Ettal: Buch-Kunstverlag, 1953), 25.
38 Euseb. Tric. Or. 2.5, 7.12 (the image), 13 (the delegate). Example, source, and leader: pr. 5, 1.3, 2.1,
3.6. Likeness to God and his kingdom: 3.5-6, with Harold Α. Drake, In Praise cif Constantine. Α
Historical Study and New Translation cif Eusebius' Tήcennial Oration (Berkeley: UCP, 1976), 166;
Timothy D. Barnes, Constantine and Eusebius (Cambήdge, ΜΑ: HUP, 1981), 254.
39 God's harmony: Euseb. Tric. Or. 6.9, 14.5; the emperor's harmony: 3.4; subjects and the army: 5.8,
9.10; teacher and father: 1.1, 2.6; the people: 13.1; virtues: 5.1-2.
40 Peter Brown, Power and Persuasion in Late Antiquity (Madison, WI: UWP, 1992), 134, 157; cf. Euseb.
Tric. Or. 4.2, and 12.13.
41 Euseb. Tric. Or. 1.4, 6.6, 3.6. The epithets: 3.6 and Drake, In Praise of Constantine, 160.Just. Nov. 6.pr.,
105.2.4 (see nt. 1 above), 113.1: ήμείς γαρ, οίς ό θεός καί την του νομοθετείν έξουσίαν έδωρήσατο.
Lampen. Enc. 71.5, with Dolger, Byzanz und die europiiische Staatenwelt, 197-208. We do not need to
go into a complex problem of the (early) Byzantine Caesaropapism; see the still important article of
Carmelo Capizzi, "Giustiniano: fu un cesaropapista?" La Civilta Cattolica 145.2 (1994): 37-50, with a
special reference to the Chήstian concept of the "living law" beginning with Eusebius (39).
42 Otto Treitinger, Die ostromische Kaiser- und Reichsidee (Darmstadt: Η. Gentner, 1969), 34-5; Blum,
Byzantinische Fiίrstenspiegel, 9; Maήe-France Auzepy, "Le Chήst, l'empereur et l'image (VIIe-IXe
siecle)," in Eupsychia: Melanges offerts α Η. Ahrweiler, ed. Μ. Balard (Paήs: Publications de la Sorbonne,
1998), 43, 45; Frank Kolb, Herrscherideologie in der Spiitantike (Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 2001), 46-7,
83-5, 89; Dominic O'Meara andJacques Schamp, 'Ίntroduction," in Miroirs de prince de l'Empire romain
au IVsiέcle, eds. and trans. D. O'Meara andJ. Schamp (Fήbourg: Academic Press Fribourg, 2006), 7;
Dimiter Angelov, Imperial Ideology and Political Thought in Byzantium, 1204-1330 (Cambridge: CUP,
2007), 79-80.
43 Cf. Dio 4.26-39, and Κlosko, Plato's Political Theory, 133-4, 160; Annas, "Virtue and Law in Plato,"
71-2. See nts. 16-7 above. Pachym. Hist. 1.13, in Georges Pachymeres, Relations Historiques. Vol. 1,
ed. Albert Failler (Paήs: Les Belles Lettres, 1984), 57. Manuel ΙΙ Palaeologus, Funeral Oration on His
Brother Theodore. Introduction, Text, Translation, and Notes byJuliana Chrysostomides (Thessalonike:
Association for Byzantine Research, 1985), 77, 1.25; 93, 1.24; and 109, 1.11 (ανδρός άρετfi
συμβιουντος), respectively.
44 Moderation and prudence: Tac. Agr. 4.3, 9.2, 42.3; virtues: 6.1-5, 8.2, 19.1-4. Domitian: 39.2; cf.
Plin. Pan. 24.5.
45 Plin. Pan. 1.1-2, 21.1, 82.7, 72.5. Self-control and leniency: 2.6, modesty: 3.2, 10.3, moderation: 3.2,
9.1, 16.1, 56.3, benevolence and mildness: 3.4, 21.4, generosity: 34.3, 37-39, 43.4, 50.6, patience:
76.1, 86.5; cf. 3.4.
46 Plin. Pan. 65.1: "not 'the pήnce is above the law' but 'the law is above the pήnce'; Caesar bows to the
same restήctions as any other consul," with Mark Morford, "iubes esse liberos: Pliny's Panegyήcus and
liberty," in Latin Panegyric, ed. R. Rees (Oxford: OUP, 2012), 138-9, and also Plin. Pan. 38-39, 40,
41-2, 50.1.
47 Οη Dio Chrysostom and Plutarch, see above and, also, Mark Beck, "Plutarch to Trajan: The
Dedicatory Letter and the Apophthegmata Collection," in Sage and Emperor. Plutarch, Greek
33
Sviatoslav Dmitriev
Intellectuals, and Roman Power in the Time cif Trajan, eds. Ρ. Α. Stadter and L. V. der Stockt (Leuven:
Leuven UP, 2002) οη apophthegmata (dedicated to Trajan) as displays ofphilosophy and wisdom. This
difference between the ruler's virtues ίη the East and the West has gone largely unnoticed because such
analyses never seem to go beyond limited chronological peήods; cf. Andrew Wallace-Hadήll, "The
Emperor and His Virtues," Historia 30 (1981): 298-323, here 323; Jesse Rufus Fears, "The Cult of
Virtues and Roman Impeήal Ideology," ίη ANRWII 17.2, ed. W. Haase (1981), 885, 924, 936;
Robin Seager, "Some Impeήal Virtues ίη the Latin Prose Panegyήcs, the Demands ofPropaganda, and
the Dynamics ofLiterary Composition," Papers of the Liverpool Latin Seminar 4 (1983 [1984]): 129-65;
cf. Franς:ois Burdeau, "L'empereur d'apres les panegyήques latins," ίη Asp ects de lΈmpire romain, ed. F.
Burdeau et al. (Paήs: Presses universitaires de France, 1964), 35-41 (οη standard "impeήal virtues" ίη
Latin panegyήcs); R. Η. Storch, "The ΧΙΙ Panegyrici Latini and the Perfect Pήnce," Acta Classica 15
(1972): 71-6, here 73; and Bruce Gibson, "Contemporary Contexts," ίη Pliny's Praise: The
Panegyήcus in the Roman World, ed. Ρ. Roche (Cambήdge: CUP, 2011), 104-24 (see next note). It is
because ofhis focus οη Roman political culture that Βήaη Croke, ''Justinian the 'Sleepless Emperor,"'
in BASILEIA: Essays on Imperium and Culture in Honour cif Ε. Μ. and Μ. ]. Jι1freys, eds. G. Nathan and
L. Garland (Bήsbane: AABS, 2011), 13-108, here 105 counted sleepless care among impeήal virtues as
having been Justinian's innovation; cf. Aveήl Cameron, Procopius and the Sixth Century (Berkeley:
UCP, 1985), 61: the "usual hagiographic interpretation ofsuch physical endurance," 247. Ιη fact, this
trait of a good ruler had been praised by Homer (Il. 2.24, 9.325, 10.1-5), Plato (Rep. 404ab), and
Synesius (King. 5.4, 6.1), among others: see Herbert Hunger, Prooimion: Elemente der byzantinischen
Kaiseridee in den Arengen der Urkunden (Vienna: Η. Bohlau, 1964), 94-100. We need to distinguish
between the ruler's nocturnal vigilance as his care for subjects and as an attήbute ofa philosopher king,
whose intellect never sleeps.
48 See Gibson, "Contemporary contexts," 111-6, who largely reduced Dio's "different series of ap
proaches and emphases" to his cultural and social background, since Dio "typified the Greek-speaking
elites of the eastern empire."
49 Vigilance and activity: Plin. Pan. 10.3; wisdom: 47.1-4, 88.6; obedience to law: 9.3, 9.5, 34.2, 38.7,
65.1, cf. 24.4, 45.5-6; like consul: 59.6, 65.1, 76.1, 76.6, 77.3-5, 78.3-5, 79.5; the same ήghts as
everyone else: 10.4, 23.1-2, 64.4-65.1, 71.4, with Maήa Pilar Garcίa Ruiz, "Rethinking the Political
Role ofPliny's Panegyricus ίη the Panegyrici Latini," Arethusa 46 (2013): 207 οη civilitas, with 210-11: its
importance ίη constructing the emperor's public persona ίη Latin literature; the title: 21.3-4, 24.3,
44.2. Emperor vs. tyrant: 2.3; pήncipate with freedom: 27.1, 36.4, 44.6, 45.1-3, 55.2, 57.4, 58.3, 66.2-
4, 78.3, 87.1. Brutus: 55.6-7. This view: Nicole Methy, "Elo e rhetoήque et propagande politique
9
sous le Haut-Empire. L'exemple du Panέgyrique de Trajan," MEFRA 112 (2000): 365-411, here 385;
Schulte, Syeculum Regis, 223-4.
50 Methy, 'Έloge rhetoήque," 38(}-95 (at 385); Schulte, Speculum Regis, 223-4. Tac. Agr. 39.2 (see nt. 44
above). Νο distinction: D.C. 52.35.1-6, 39.3-4. The tide "king": 52.40.1-2; Agήppa and Maecenas:
52.2-40; demokratia: 50.1.1, 56.39.5. Bias: Caillan Davenport, "Cassius Dio and Caracalla," CQ 62.2
(2012): 795-815, here 797-9.
51 Freedom: D.C. 52.5.3-4, 14.4-5. The senate: 52.15.1, their own judges: 52.31.3-4, 32.1-3, con
sultations: 52.15.2, 31.2, 33.3-6, with Martin Hose, "Der Kaiser und seine Begrenzung durch die
antiken Literatur. Betrachtungen zu Cassius Dio," ίη Zwischen Strukturgeschichte und Biographie, ed. Α.
Winterling (Munich: R. Oldenbourg, 2011), 114, 124. Laws: 52.31.2, 5-10, 34.6-7.
52 Wallace-Hadήll, 'Έmperor," 319 and Adam Kemezis, Greek Narratives cif the Roman Empire under the
Severans: Cassius Dio, Philostratus and Herodian (Cambήdge: CUP, 2014), 130-2. Prudence: D.C.
52.14.2, 5.
53 D.C. 53.18.1: "For they have been released from the laws, as the very words ίη Latin declare; that is,
they are free from all compulsion ofthe laws and are bound by none ofthe wήtten ordinances." Ulp.
Dig. 1.3.31, which was evidently limited to only the lex Iulia et Pappia, but was ultimately extended to
all of them: Theodore Mommsen, Romisches Staatsrecht, vol. ΙΙ, 2 (Graz: Akademische Druck- und
Verlagsanstalt, 1952), 751-3, who noted different implications of Dio's and Ulpian's words, but
pointed to Just. Nov. 105.2.4 (see nt. 1 above) as a later expression ofthe same idea. Pan. Lat. IV 5.1.
This choice: C] 6.23.3, 1.14.4; Just. Inst. 2.17.8.
54 Obedience to law: Plin. Pan. 9.3-5, 34.2, 65.1; similar to consul: 59.6, 65.1, 76.1, 76.6, 77.3-5, 78.3-5,
79.5, with Chήstopher Kelly, "Pliny and Pacatus. Past and Present ίη Impeήal Panegyήc," ίη Contested
Monarchy. Integrating the Roman Empire in the Fourth Century A.D., ed. J. Wienand. (Oxford: OUP,
34
2015), 231-2; as other citizens: 10.4, 23.1-2, 64.4-65.1, 71.4; impeήal tide: 21.3-4, 24.3, 44.2; au
thoήty: 76.6, 77.4.
55 Amm. Marcell. 22.7.1; Pan. Lat. ΠΙ 28.3-4. Compaήsons with earlier emperors: for example, Amm.
Marcell. 16.1.4; Pήsc. Laud. Anast. 45-49. Symm. Or. 4.13, 5.3, with Daήusz Brodka, Die
Romideologie in der romischen Literatur der Spdtantike (Frankfurt a.M.: Ρ. Lang, 1998), 37-8, 41. Lib. Or.
13.10, 15, 38, 44: Julian's companions are followers of Plato. Themistius: Μ. Pilar Garcίa Ruiz,
"Julian's Self-representation ίη Coins and Texts," ίη Imagining Emperors in the Later Roman Empire, eds.
D. W. Ρ. Burgersdijk and Α. J. Ross (Leiden: Bήll, 2018), 216--8. Nov. 105.2.4 (see nt. 1 above).
56 Just. Nov. 22.pr: "We, too, made many provisions οη the subject ίη our Code, but after more careful
consideration have deemed it best to make amendments not only to previous laws but also to those
enacted by us," 49.pr., 69.1, and 84.pr.: "the new things which nature everywhere produces-a
preface often used ίη laws and which will again be used whenever nature performs her proper
functions-have brought about the necessity for many new laws"; cf. Plat. Politic. 295ae (see nt. 15
above); Pazdernik, "Justinianic Ideology," 20(}-01 οη such evidence as a reflection of a "histoήcal
process," rather than of ever-changing nature; Kaldellis, "Republican Theory," 7: "ίη his effort to
impose order οη every aspect of life the emperor created great confusion."
57 Neither Giuliana Lanata (Legislazione e natura nelle Novelle giustinianee [Naples: Edizioni scientifiche
italiane, 1984], 177-8), who analysed the theme of the emperor as a good doctor in Justinian's leg
islation, nor Michael Maas ("Roman History and Chήstian Ideology ίη Justinianic Reform
Legislation," DOP 40 [1986]: 29-31), who accepted Lanata's approach, traced "impeήal therapy" to
Plato's views.
58 Proc. Laud. Anast. 23. Gianluca Ventrella, "Procopio panegirista: Struttura e topoi del Panegirico per
l'imperatore Anastasio," ίη Rose di Gaza. Gli scritti retorico-sofistici e le Epistole di Procopio di Gaza, ed. Ε.
Amato (Alessandria: Edizioni dell'Orso, 2010), 114 linked this passage with the ideas from ps.
Archytas's On Law and Justice, which, he claimed, identified a ruler with law for the first time.
However, its authorship has been disputed, and neither the date of this work nor of Archytas's life is
certain (see nt. 12 above).
59 Damasc. Phil. Hist. 149Β, ίη Polymnia Athanassiadi, "Damascius," ίη Philosophical History, ed. and
trans. Polymnia Athanassiadi (Athens: Apamea, 1999), 326-7.
60 Just. Nov. 105.4. Their fusion: Steinwenter, "Nomos empsykhos," 251, 261, 267; Hunger, Prooimion,
119; see also George Ostrogorsky, "The Byzantine Emperor and the Hierarchical World Order," The
Slavonic and East European Review 35 (1956): 4 and James Allen Evans, The Age Justinian. The rif
Circumstances of Imperial Power (London: Roudedge, 1996), 61, who specifically markedJustinian's view
of the emperor's status as not subject to laws, but did not distinguish between the two understandings
of nomos empsykhos.
61 Plin. Pan. 2.3, 55.6-7. Liban. Or. 15.67, 59.162 (καίτοι τί μείζον η τό κυρίους μεν είναι των νόμων
αύτούς, τούς νόμους δέ αύτων κυριωτέρους ποιείσθαι;) with Pierre-Louis Malosse, "Le modele du
mauvais empereur chez Libanios," Pallas 60 (2002), 169. Aphth. Prog. 7.5 and 6. Later times: Psell.
Hist. Synt. 75; see nt. 4 above. Pertusi, 'Ί pήncipi fondamentali," 16 has already marked this situation.
62 Maas, ]ohn Lydus, 15; Dagron, Emperor and Priest, 19. See also Hunger, Prooimion, 117-9; Kolb,
Herrscherideologie, 92-3; Milton Anastos, ''Byzantine Political Theory: Its Classical Precedents and Legal
Embodiment," ίη The "Past" in Medieval and Modern Greek Culture, ed. S. Vryonis,Jr. (Malibu: Undena
rif
Publications, 1978), 14-5, 27 (repr. ίη Milton Anastos, Aspects of the Mind Byzantium. Political Theory,
Theology, and Ecclesiastical Relations with the See rif
Rome, eds. Sp. Vryonis, Jr., and Ν. Goodhue
[Aldershot and Burlington: Ashgate / Variorum, 2001], Ch. 1); Simon, "Princeps legibus solutus," 480;
Μaήο Mazza, Le maschere del potere: Cultura e politica nella tarda antichita (Naples: Jovene, 1986), 254, and
"L'uso del passato: temi della politica ίη eta giustinianea," ίη Alle soglie della classicita: il Mediterraneo tra
tradizione e innovazione. Studi in onore di S. Moscati. ed. Ε. Acquaro (Pisa: Istituti editoήali e poligrafici
internazionali, 1996), 329; Schulte, Speculum Regis, 249-61 (esp. 256); O'Meara and Schamp,
'Ίntroduction," 7-9.
63 Cameron, Procopius, 247, with Frank Dvornik, Early Christian and Byzantine Political Philosophy
(Washington: Dumbarton Oaks Center for Byzantine Studies, 1966), 715: Lydus's definition of
kingship (basileia) "places the emphasis οη the Roman element surviving ίη Byzantium"; Pazdernik,
"Justinianic Ideology," 194-8.
64 Plin. Pan. 59.6, 65.1 (quote; see nt. 46 above), 76.1, 76.6, 77.3-5, 78.3-5, 79.5; Mamertinus: Pan. Lat.
ΠΙ 28.3-4 (see nt. 55 above). Lyd. Mag. 2.8: 'Όur both father and at the same time most mild emperor
... is a consul and, ίη so far as he is one, he becomes one ίη dress whenever he should wish to embellish
35
Sviatoslav Dmitriev
his station in life, designating the consulship a rank higher than the emperorship" and 2.17. Οη Lydus's
division between "Greek" and "Roman" authors, and thus between Greek and Roman cultural
(including political) traditions, see Sviatoslav Dmitήev, "John Lydus and His Contemporaήes οη
Identities and Cultures ofSixth-Century Byzantium," DOP 64 (201Ο [2011]), 31-4; οη his knowledge
of Latin, see Sviatoslav Dmitriev, "John Lydus' Knowledge of Latin and Language Politics in Sixth
century Constantinople," ΒΖ 111 (2018): 55-70.
65 Just. Nov. 105.2.4 (see nt. 1 above) and Lyd. Mag. 1.3.7 (see nt. 3 above).
66 Lyd. Mag. 1.6: "for it was distasteful and extήnsic to Roman freedom to call their rulers 'masters,' but
not 'emperors,"' 1.29, 1.31-33: Brutus "liberated the Romans from tyranny" (thus juxtaposing
freedom with tyranny, but not with imperial rule), 2.8.1: consulship as the mother ofRoman freedom,
3.11.1, 3.15.3, 3.39.4. Οη this topos in Tacitus, see Mark Morford, 'Ήοw Tacitus Defined Liberty," in
ANRWΠ 33.5, ed. W. Haase (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1991), 3420-50, who pointed out to numerous
parallels with Pliny's panegyήc. The freedom ofsubjects: Plin. Pan. 2.5, 87.1; the republic: 44.6, 57.4;
principatus et libertas: see nts. 50-1 above; Trajan and liberty: 66.2, 67.2-3, 69.5, 78.3, with 1.6, 8.1,
27.1, 55.2. "Freedom" in Dio: nt. 51 above.
67 Plin. Pan. 55.6-7. Mamert., in Pan. Lat. ΠΙ 30.3-4. Pacat., in Pan. Lat. Π 20.5-6, with Pilar Garcίa
Ruiz, "Rethinking the political role," 215. Claud. Pan. 17 (Theoιl). 159-65 and 22 (Stil. 2).342-48. See
Lyd. Mag. 3.38 and 2.28, with Sviatoslav Dmitήev, ''John Lydus' Political Message and the Byzantine
Idea ofimpeήal Rule," BMGS 39 (2015): 1-24, here 3.
68 E.g., Burdeau, "L'empereur," 35, 41-2; Franca Ela Consolino, "L'optimus princeps secondo S.
Ambrogio: virtιΊ imperatoήe e virtιΊ cήstiane nelle orazioni funebή per Valentiniano e Teodosio," RSI
92 (1984): 1025-45, here 1041; Michael Mause, Die Darstellung des Kaisers in der lateinischen Panegyrik
(Stuttgart: F. Steiner, 1994), 200; Peter Van Nuffelen, "The Unstained Rule ofTheodosius Π: Α Late
Antique Panegyήcal Topos and Moral Concern," in Virtutis Imago: Studies on the Conceptualisation and
Traniformation of an Ancient Ideal, eds. G. Partoens et al. (Louvain: Peeters, 2004), 229-56.
69 Clemency: Lyd. Mag. 1.6.5, 2.8.3, 2.15.2; cf. Just. Nov. 115.pr. Wakefulness: 2.8.3, 3.55.1, 3.56.1;
eating litde: 2.8.3; support ofknowledge: 3.30.9, 3.50.1. Officials as philosophers: 2.21.4, 3.28.1; days
and nights: 1.23.3, 2.26.3, 3.15.2; wisdom: 2.21.1, 2.26.1-5. The archetype: 2.23.2; the emperor:
2.5.3, 3.1.1 (preservation) and 3 (virtue); gifted by nature: 2.3.2; laws: 1.3.5; elected by his subjects:
1.3.4. Οη enkrateia as one's ability to endure hardships and control passions, see esp. Dοήοη, "Socrate
et la basilike tekhne," 53-5.
70 Lyd. Mag. 1.3.4; wisdom and prowess: 3.33.3; Cic. Rep. 2.24. Cicero's virtus has been misinterpreted as
"virtue": James Zetzel, Cicero: On the Commonwealth, and On the Laws (Cambήdge: CUP, 1999), 40;
David Fott, Marcus Tullius Cicero: On the Republic, and On the Laws (Ithaca, ΝΥ: Comell UP, 2014), 70;
οη the narrow understanding ofLatin virtus, see Burdeau, "L'empereur," 27. Dio, Or. 1.4, 2.1. Them.
Or. 5, 63c. [Themist.] Το the emperor, 2, in Eugenio Amato and Ilaήa Ramelli, "L'inedito Πρός
βασιλέα di Temistio," ΒΖ 99 (2006): 9, 12, with Lieve Van Hoofand Peter Van Nuffelen, "Pseudo
Themistius, Pros Basilea: Α False Attήbution," Byzantion 81 (2011): 412-23, who dated it to the reign
ofJustinian. Cf. military prowess and practical wisdom in Isocr. 9.65. Ιη later times, Michael Attaleiates
praised (Hist. 1.1-3) Nicephorus ΠΙ Botaneiates as someone who had distinguished himselfthrough his
military achievements and natural qualities, including noctumal studies and George Acropolites
commended Theodore Π Doucas Lascaήs, who became emperor because ofhis military abilities along
with his learning and philosophy: Peter Wirth, Georgii Acropolitae opera, vol. 2 (Stuttgart: Β. G.
Teubner, 1978), 28, 11.1-14, incl. 1-3: τότε παύσουσι των κακών αί πόλεις καί έμπεριπολεύσει
ταύταις τα άγαθά, δτε φιλοσοφήσουσι βασιλείς η βασιλεύσουσι οί φιλόσοφοι, thus repeating the
maxim attήbuted to Socrates in Plat. Rep. 473cd (see nt. 7 above).
71 Cic. Rep. 2.47. Plin. Pan. 2.3. Lyd. Mag. 1.3.5, 1.6.5, 2.8.3. George Tomikios conveyed the same idea
when he said that the subjects ofAlexius Ι lamented his death as the loss "not ofa master and emperor
but of a good father": George et Demetήos Tomikes, Lettres et discours, ed. Jean Darrouzes (Paήs:
Editions du CNRS, 1970), 269.
72 Lyd. Mag. 1.3.5-7. Synes. King. 1.2, 3.1-6, 6.4, 29.1-4. Soul: 5-6, incl. 6.4-5 (the quote).
73 Synesius's oration as the earliest specimen of this genre: Herbert Hunger, Die hochsprachliche profane
Literatur der Byzantiner, vol. 1 (Munich: C. Η. Beck, 1978), 157; Blum, Byzantinische Furstenspiegel, 31;
Elizabeth Μ. Jeffreys and Alexander Kazhdan, "Mirror ofPήnces," in ODB, ed. Α. Kazhdan (Oxford:
OUP, 1991), 1379; Wolfgang Hagl, Arcadius Apis Imperator: Synesios von Kyrene und sein Beitrag zum
Herrscherideal der Spiitantike (Stuttgart: F. Steiner, 1997), 80-2; Hartwin Brandt, "Die Rede περί
βασιλείας des Synesios νοη Kyrene," in Consuetudinis amor. Fragments d'histoire romaine (IIe-VIe siecles)
36
offerts α].-Ρ. Callu, eds. F. Chausson and Ε. Wolff (Rome: L'Erma di Bretschneider, 2003), 69.Such
definitions: Hunger, Die hochsprachliche prcifane Literatur, 157-65; Roberto Romano, "Retoήca e
cultura a Bisanzio: due Fiίrstenspiegel a confronto," Vichiana n.s. 14 (1985): 299;Schulte, Speculum Regis,
14-5.See [Isocr.] 1.36, Xen. Cyr. 8.1.22, andStobae. 4.1.135 (see nts. 11 and 12 above). Οη Platonic
roots of Synesius's On Kingship, see Jay Bregman, Synesius of Cyrene (Berkeley: UCP, 1982), 54-6;
Denis Roques, "Synesios de Cyrene et la rhetoήque," in Approches de Ια troisiέme sophistique. Hommages
α]. Schamp, eds. Ε. Amato et al. (Brussels: Latomus, 2006), 262-68; cf. Kaldellis, Byzantine Republic, 72.
74 Plato, Ep. 8, 354e, Rep. 500d, 613ab, with Ramelli, ΙΙ basileus come nomos empsychos, 41.
75 Lyd. Mag. 3.26.See Chήstian Wildberg, "Philosophy in the Age ofJustinian," in CCAJ, ed. Μ. Maas
(Cambridge: CUP, 2005), 323, 335; Peter Ν. Bell, Three Political Voices from the Age of Justinian
(Liverpool: LUP, 2009), 57-8. Agapius: Damasc. Phil. Hist. 107, 126C, and 127Α, in Athanassiadi,
"Damascius," 256, 288, and 290, respectively, and Michel Dubuisson, 'Ίntroduction generale," in]ean
Le Lydien, Des magistratures de l'Etat romain. Eds. and trans. Μ. Dubuisson andJ.Schamp, vol. 1.1 (Paris:
Les Belles Lettres, 2006), xxi-xxvii.
76 Synes. King. 6.5 and Lyd. Mag. 1.3.5-7 (see nt. 72 above). Cf.Synes. King. 19.1-5 and Lyd. Mag. 1.3.5-
6. Α distinction between specific political regimes was thus not as important for Lydus as how the
political power was exercised: see also Mag. 1.4.1, 1.6.2. Pace Umberto Roberto, "Giovanni Lido sul
consolato. Liberta, sophrosyne e ήflessione stoήco-politico a Constantinopoli (meta VI-inizio VII
secolo), Lexis 36 (2018), 387-388 and Κruse, The Politics of Roman Memory, 135-139, arguing that
Lydus set emperorship aside from kingship and tyranny because of the emperor's quality to rule like
consul. However, for Lydus (and his fellow sixth-century intellectuals), the emperorship occupied a
separate place because the emperor could hold his office (including consulship) as either a tyranny (cf.
Νον. 105.2.4; see nt. 1 above) or a lawful kingship - in the latter case, there was ηο difference
between the emperor and a Republican consul: see Plin. Pan. 55.6-7 and Lyd. Mag. 2.8 (see nts. 49
and 64 above, respectively).
77 Military leadership: Synes. King. 13.1-7, 15.7-8; Lyd. Mag. 2.11. Personal qualities: Synes. King. 4.4-
5.3 (89-91); Lyd. Mag. 2.3. Limits of power: Synes. King. 6.1-5 (92-94); Lyd. Mag. 3.12, 15. Virtuous
officials: Synes. King. 27.1-3 (136-7); Lyd. Mag. 3.17. 3.38. 3.76. Emperor's unawareness: Lyd. Mag.
3.61-62, 3.69. Election: Synes. King. 27.3 (137) and Lyd. Mag. 1.4.
78 Compliance with laws: Dialogue 5.21 (see nt. 3 above); ethical requirements: 5.15; imitation of God:
5.1, 3, 5, 9, 58, 186-96, with Pertusi, 'Ί pήncipi fondamentali," 4-5; political power and philosophy:
5.123, 134 (practicing philosophy), 138, 210 (with LeslieS. Β. MacCoull, "Menas and Thomas: notes
οη the Dialogus de scientia politica," GRBS 46 [2006]: 306); the emperor acting as law: 5.45, teacher:
5.132, election: 5.40, 47-49, 50-52. Its neoplatonism: Vladimir Valdenberg, "Les idees politiques dans
les fragments attήbuees a Pierre le Patήce," Byzantion 2 (1925): 57-8; O'Meara, Platonopolis, 171-84
and "TheJustinianic Dialogue On Political Science and its NeoplatonicSources," in Byzantine Philosophy
and its Ancient Sources, ed. Κ. Ierodiakonou (Oxford: OUP, 2004), 55-60; Bell, Three Political Voices, 1,
49, 54, 150 η. 26; cf. Κ. Praechter, "Zum Maischen Anonymus περί πολιτικής έπιστήμης," ΒΖ 9
(1900): 624-9. Οη Dialogue as reflecting the senatorial point of view: Cameron, Procopius, 250;
Pazdernik, "Justinianic Ideology," 195. Peter Ν. Bell, Social Conflict in the Age of Justinian (Oxford:
OUP, 2013), 274 correctly observed that the Dialogue projected the view of the emperor's legitimacy
as "both Ίawful' (nomimos) and 'just' (dikaios) ... set in a legally defined constitutional structure," but
then suddenly noted that it 'Όwes as much to Cicero as it does to Plato"; cf. 278, where he defines the
Dialogue as "senatoήally oήented." Cf. AthanasiosS. Fotiou, "Plato's Philosopher Κing in the Political
Thought ofSixth-Century Byzantium," Florilegium 7 (1985): 17 declaring that Dialogue was "wήtten
from the viewpoint of the senatorial class" and spending the rest (18-25) οη tracing the influence of
Plato's views.
79 Peter: Lyd. Mag. 2.36. This identification: Angelo Mai, Scriptorum veterum nova collectio, vol. 2 (Rome:
Typis Vaticanis, 1827), 571-84; Valdenberg, "Les idees politiques," 55-76; against: Praechter, "Zum
Maischen Anonymus," 632; Panagiotis Τ. Antonopoulos, Peter the Patrician: The Byzantine Diplomat,
Official and Author (Athens: St. D. Vasiliopoulos, 1990), 244; Bell, Three Political Voices, 10-11, 19-27.
O'Meara either left the question open (Platonopolis, 173) or avoided any identification (''Justinianic
Dialogue"). Thomas Μ. Banchich, The Lost History of Peter the Patrician: An Account of Rome's Imperial
Past from the Age of Justinian (London: Routledge, 2015) ignored it.
80 PaulSilent. Ekphr. 38, 51, with Mary Whitby, "The Occasion of Paul theSilentiary's Ekphrasis ofS.
Sophia," CQ n.s. 35 (1985): 22(}-2; Ruth Macrides and Paul Magdalino, "The Architecture of
Ekphrasis: Construction and Context of Paul the Silentiary's Poem οη Hagia Sophia," BMGS 12
37
Sviatoslav Dmitriev
(1988): 75-6; Maήe-Chήstine Fayant, "Le poete, l'empereur et le patήarche. L'eloge de Justinien dans
la Description de Sainte-Sophie de Paul le Silentiaire," in Le discours d'έloge entre Antiquitέ et Moyen Age,
eds. Μ. Lionel and Μ. Sot (Paήs: Picard, 2001), 72, 76-77; justice: 220, 942; submission: 955; cf. Plat.
Symp. 196bd and Xen. Cyr. 1.1.3 (see nts. 10 and 11 above).
81 Agapet. Adv. 6 with 63, 27; likeness to God: 1, 3, 37, 45, 63; philosopher: 17 (δταν η φιλόσοφοι
βασιλεύσωσιν η βασιλείς φιλοσοφήσωσι); goodness of conduct: 4; self-control: 68, with Karen
Piepenbήnk, "Zur 'Chήstianisierung' des 'Fίirstenspiegels' in der Spatantike: ϋberlegungen zur
Ekthesis des Agapetos," in Concepts of Ideal Rulership from Antiquity to the Renaissance, eds. G. Roskam
and S. Schorn (Turnhout: Brepols, 2018), 342-3 οη the Platonic roots ofAgapetus's book, which she
saw as the first Chήstian "mirror of pήnces."
82 Proc. Aed. 1.1.15; Anecd. 8.22-26. This understanding of Procopius's views: Frank Tinnefeld,
Kategorien der Kaiserkritik in der Byzantinischen Historiographie von Prokop bis Niketas Choniates (Munich:
W. Fink, 1971), 24-5. Cameron, Procopius, 59 interpreted this place as Procopius's use of "classical
invective."
83 Amato and Ramelli, "L'inedito Προς βασιλέα di Temistio," 1-67, with Van Hoofand Van Nuffelen,
"Pseudo-Themistius, Pros Basilea," 412 (the quote)-423 (see nt. 70 above). For the survival of this
approach to impeήal rulership in later Byzantine literature, see Dmitriev, ''John Lydus' political
message," 5-22.
84 Hellenistic roots: Dvornik, Byzantine Political Philosophy, 513, 534, 536, 704; Aalders, "Νόμος
εμψυχος," 321-9; Dagron, Emperor and Priest, 19. Cf. Kaldellis, "Republican theory," 2. For Greek
cultural infiuence οη Roman political identity ofearly Byzantium, see also Dmitήev, "John Lydus and
his contemporaήes," 39-41.
38
3
CONSTΑΝΤΙΝΙΑΝ IMPERIAL
IDENTITIES: ΤΗΕ JULIANIC
PUSHBACK
Nicola Rose Ernst
When Constantine the Great died οη 22 May 337, he left behind a number of potential heirs
and three legitimate sons, Constantine ΙΙ (r. 337-340), Constantius ΙΙ (r. 337-361), and
Constans (r. 337-350). Although it appears that Constantine had some succession plan in place,
this would all be undone duήng the summer of 337.1 Α massacre, descήbed as the "summer of
2
blood" by Richard Burgess, saw several high-ranking male relatives of Constantine murdered.
These assassinations, most likely undertaken at the behest of Constantius ΙΙ, included the deaths
of the Caesar Dalmatius and the rex regum Hannibalianus.3 The future dynasts Julian (Caesar
355-361; Augustus 361-363) and Constantius Gallus ( Caesar 351-354), were spared, yet their
father, Julius Constantius (Constantine's half-brother), and at least seven other relatives were
killed.4 Gallus was spared οη account of his sickly demeanour andJulian due to his youth.5 This
bloodbath shaped the landscape of filial affairs for the next 30 years. Constantine's eldest son,
Constantine ΙΙ, marched against the youngest son, Constans, resulting in the death of the
former in 340.6 Gallus would be raised to the rank of Caesar only to be later killed οη suspicion
of treasonous behaviour by his cousin, Constantius ΙΙ in 354, and Julian himself would declare
civil war οη Constantius in 360. This civil war was only avoided due to the sudden death of
Constantius, most likely of fever in Ν ovember 361.
These events significantly impacted Julian's impeήal identity duήng his short time as sole
Augustus between 361 and 363, and several aspects of his self-formed identity and presentation
can and should be understood as active pushbacks against the established Constantinian norms.
While, following the Tetrarchic precedent, the Constantinian emperors presented themselves as
remote, divine figures I will argue in this chapter that Julian pushed back against these
Constantinian norms and presented himself and his rule as tangible and more approachable.
Julian's reign offers an excellent oppourtunity to explore impeήal self-fashioning due to the
variety of sources οη his short reign, including a great deal of mateήal wήtten by the emperor
himself These Julianic inputs allow us to understand the impetus behind his impeήal identity
and its formation. Instead of focusing οη religious differences between Julian and his filial
predecessors, which have received extensive attention, this chapter will instead examineJulian's
construction of his impeήal identity. Julian walked an unusual line for an emperor, being
simultaneously a usurper and legitimate dynast.7 This unique identity provided much of the
impetus for Julian's construction of a new Constantinian impeήal image and identity. Julian's
tangibility from the moment of his military acclamation as Augustus at Paήs in late 360 is central
DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-4 39
Nicola Rose Ernst
to this purposeful self-styled identity and presents a departure from the distant and remote
images associated with his predecessors, especially Constantius ΙΙ. 8
Ceremony vs Military: Remote and Relatable Identities

By the mid-fourth century, the Augustan ideal of the civilis princeps had become more or less
obsolete.9 Diocletian's tetrarchy of the late-third century signified a shift away from the impeήal
image and identities of the emperor that had previously been tied up with the Au gustan
principate and its subsequent dynasties. This period brought with it a more autocratic and
ceremonial style of impeήal rule, which remained pervasive throughout the fourth century and
beyond.10 These developments in ceremonial style that had emerged even beforeConstantine's
reign, and continued long after it, can aid our understanding for shifts both in the way an
11
emperor performed his day-to-day duties and created his image to his subjects. The emperor
became a more remote figure, both in his physicality and his perceived distance from events and
affairs, only accessible through his vast administrative bureaucracy and ceremonial activities.12
Here, the differences in the chosen representations of imperial power for both Constantius ΙΙ
and Julian will be considered. Where Constantius and his dynastic predecessors presented
themselves akin to the distant and divinely favoured tetrarchs, Julian cast himself as a philo
sopher and soldier, present and tangible to his men. AlthoughJulian's perceived self-styling may
have struck the young emperor as more accessible than the remoteness of his cousin, he would
face considerable reluctance to accept his distinct image from many of his subjects who found
this imperial identity far too ascetic and austere.
Perhaps the most famous descήption of the remote and detached nature of the emperor in
the mid-fourth century is Ammianus Marcellinus's depiction ofConstantius's adventus to Rome
in 357.13 This episode offers us an ideal starting point for the discussion that follows. The
impeήal presentation of Constantius ΙΙ in this episode and Julian's later adventus in the East
demonstrate a clear push away from Constantinian norms. Ιη particular, Julian sought to reject
and remove himself from the autocratic images and identities of his predecessors. Julian's
Eastern acclamation and adventus in the East were presented as more tangible and accessible than
that of his cousin. The contrasting behaviours and representations of impeήal identity in this
time also demonstrate the wishes of the fourth-century wήters, who lauded the manly beha
viour of Julian above the "un-rnilitaήstic" and "effeminate" Constantius. 14
Ιη 357, Constantius ΙΙ arήved at Rome for the first time in his reign. His visit to the city
followed the emperor's defeat of Magnentius in 353.15 Despite the long peήod between the
victory at Mons Seleucus and 357, the visit to Rome was ήch in reference to the victory over
the usurper. Constantius's ostentatious and overtly ceremonial adventus is recorded by
Ammianus Marcellinus:
His own appearance might have been designed as a show of strength to overawe the
Euphrates or the Rhine; a double line of standards went before him, and he himself
was seated οη a golden care gleaming with vaήous precious stones, whose mingled
radiance seemed to throw a sort of shimmeήng light. Behind the motley cavalcade
that preceded him the emperor's person was suπounded by purple banners woven in
the form of dragons and attached to the tops of gilded and jewelled spears; the breeze
blew through their gaping jaws so that they seemed to be hissing with rage, and their
voluminous tails streamed behind them οη the wind οη each side marched a file of
men-at-arms with shields and plumed helmets, whose shiny breastplates cast a dazzling
light. At intervals were mailed cavalrymen, the so-called Ironclads, weaήng masks and
40
The Julianic Pushback
equipped with cuirasses and belts of steel; they seemed more like statues polished by
the hand of Praxiteles than living men. Their limbs were entirely covered by a gar
ment of thin circular plates fitted to the curves of the body, and so cunningly articulate
that it adapted itself to any movement the wearer needed to make. The emperor was
greeted with welcoming cheers, which were echoed from the hills and riverbanks, but
in spite of the din he exhibited ηο emotion, but kept the same impassive air as he
commonly wore before his subjects in the provinces. Though he was very short he
stooped when he passed under a high gate; otherwise, he was like a dummy, gazing
straight before him as if his head were in a vice and tuming neither to the ήght nor
left. When a wheel jolted, he did not nod, and at ηο point was he seen to spit or to
wipe or rub his face or nose or to move his hand. All this was ηο doubt affectation, but
he gave other evidence too in his personal life of an unusual degree of self-control,
which one was given to believe belonged to him alone. As for his habit of never
allowing any pήvate person to share his carήage or be his colleague in the consulship,
as many deified emperors have, and many other similar customs which his toweήng
pride led him to observe as if they had all the sanctity of law, Ι will pass them by ....16
Ammianus's Constantius is ήchly adorned, a continuously remote figure, never looking around,
nor speaking or even acknowledging the crowds that watched him. The descήption of the
emperor's solitary nature and his unmoving figure offers a contrast to the images Ammianus
would provide for Julian's adventus into the cities of the East. While textbooks frequently
employ this example of what the adventus ceremony may have looked like, Richard Flower
suggests Ammianus's depiction of Constantius in this naπative deserves further attention and
should be reconsidered as an attack οη the emperor, designed to undeπnine his impeήal au
thoήty. The emperor is presented, Flower argues, as an "empty shell," attempting to appear
godlike and detached, but 'Όnly succeeding in revealing that he is incapable of fulfilling it." 17
Further, Ammianus's description of Constantius's adventus shows that the "divine" emperor
himself had to stoop for the unmoving city gates.18 Flower appropήately notes that this as well,
also signifies Constantius's failure to understand himself and his role-Constantius stooping for
the gates was "another facet of his deluded self-perception" presented by Ammianus.19 Νο
matter how great the emperor saw himself, the city of Rome was greater than any one man.
Ammianus was not alone in his negative perception of Constantius. Constantius was the target
of numerous slanderous attacks and unflatteήng depictions from ecclesiastical and secular wήters
in the fourth century. For these wήters, Constantius's perceived ineffectiveness as a military
leader and failure to fulfil his expected duties as emperor were particular areas of emphasis.20
These cήticisms, from both secular and ecclesiastical writers, led to an overall negative per
ception of Constantius, and Julian's attacks οη his cousin only provided further fodder for these
polemics. Constantius's statuesque figure became a point of failure for the emperor: he was ηο
better than his effigies.21 The ceremonial aspects of Constantius's reign are often cήticised
alongside the emperor's effeminacy and alleged domination by women and eunuchs, as well as
his "failed" military career.22 Hence, Ammianus cήticised Constantius's adventus as an un
deserved military tήumph:
Constantius, as if the temple of Janus had been closed and all his enemies overthrown,
was eager to visit Rome, and after the death of Magnentius to celebrate, without a
title, a triumph over Roman blood.23
41
Nicola Rose Ernst
Ammianus then contrasted this underserved triurnph with Julian's triurnphant arήval to
Constantinople in 361, which was celebrated by the rnultitude, corning "without any loss to the
state." 24 Pieπe Dufraigne suggests the tήurnphal adventus was overall, inadequate and un
justified, and for the rnost part, out of touch with the new expectations of the city of Rorne.25
Indeed, Dufraigne further suggests that Ammianus's narrative served to rnagnify the ernperor's
wider failures to be a virtuous ernperor.26 These suggestions rnade by Dufraigne can further be
extended to the discussion of the adventus by panegyήsts including Claudius Marnertinus.
Marnertinus notes the tensions of this undeserved tήurnphant adventus celebrating a victory
over fellow Rornans. The panegyήst clearly noted the tensions between the cousins, infoπning
his listeners that Julian had inadvertently incited Constantius's envy due to his Gallic victoήes
and acclairn frorn the aπny.27 The friction between the two ernperors presented by Marnertinus
is a necessary cornponent of his panegyήc to Julian, following his appointrnent as a consul for
362. However, the appearance of a sirnilar naπative in Arnrnianus's descήptions of events
indicate the overarching irnpeήal public irnage and ideology at the centre of Julian's self
presentation. Clearly, Julian's self-presentation when ernperor fed directly into these literary
presentations of his reign. This is not surpήsing, particularly in the case of his panegyrist, nor for
Ammianus, whose history and use of histoήcal foils served to bolster Julian's reputation and
rnernory. Arnrnianus's passage also alludes to Constantius's "successes in civil wars" as opposed
to any victoήes in foreign conflicts which provides a juxtaposition to Julian's joyous adventus to
the cities in the East throughout his reign. Where Constantius brought rerninders of Rornan
bloodshed through the civil war, Julian's adventus was the aπival of a "health giving star,"
beneficial for the whole state.28 One should also note that the representation of Constantius's
adventus was not entirely hostile, with several aspects of the Constantian episode appearing
within Julian's entrance to Constantinople.29 However, the praise for Julian's entrance, which
was not a tήurnph over a Rornan aπny, but rather an ernperor taking up the purple in a lawful
and bloodless rnanner is at the centre of this episode. Ιη this case, Julian represented traditional
ideals of rnartial rnanliness and leadership absent in Constantius's rule, and is thus, viewed by
Ammianus as clearly the prefeπed ernperor.30
Julian: Militaristic Emperor?

Constantius's failures are often represented as resulting frorn his lack of rnanliness, in contrast,
Ammianus offers an idealised irnage of Julian's rnanhood that ernphatically underlines for the
reader his legitirnacy.31 As Mark Hebblewhite has suggested, by this peήod, the role of the
ernperor was tightly bound with his rnilitary abilities and successes.32 Julian was not peπnitted
to adopt or advertise the titles of his rnartial victoήes duήng his tirne as Caesar which
Hebblewhite argues, provides clear evidence for the connection between the ernperor and
rnilitary success: if Julian had received the victory titles, he would have gained further legiti
rnacy, and becorne even rnore of a threat to Constantius.33 This is unusual in that the Tetrarchic
and Constantinian precedent saw Caesars being awarded these cognornina.34 By the usual
standards, Julian had accrued a nurnber of rnilitary cognornina as a result of his Gallic victoήes,
including Alarnannicus, Geπnanicus, and Francicus. However, he was not perrnitted to ad
vertise these titles until his sole reign. Julian ensured that he presented hirnself as the opposite of
his cousin, who chose to conciliate the barbaήans, whereas Julian and his soldiery suppressed
thern, resulting in cognornina that were truly legitirnate to signify these successes.35 Ιη tirne,
Julian's victoήes over foreign enernies and leadership had inevitably led to a great deal of
support within the aπny, and his active presence within the soldiery only aided this populaήty.
The young general was initially sent to bear the irnage of Constantius as the ernperor's
42
representative, but soon, he became more representative of the army, and in time a more
relatable and tangible candidate for the purple for the Gallic legions.36 Julian's identity and
presence as a soldier, as well as image bearer of the imperial house proved successful-he was
acclaimed as Augustus by his men twice, once after the Battle of Strasbourg, and for the second
time at Paήs in January 360.37 The Julianic naπative, controlled by Julian and his supporters
during his lifetime, and continued by Ammianus after his death, saw the emperor's life and
reign heavily shaped by these traditional codes of martial manliness from its beginning to
end-from his youth as a bookish young man, to an accomplished general, and finally to his
battlefield death.38 This portrait was also linked to the desire for a leader who possessed the
proper combination of "traditional" ideals of martial manliness and intellectual leadership that
have been discussed in great detail by Michael Stewart.39 These qualities are distinctly lacking in
Ammianus's Constantius, who is attacked by Ammianus in the same ways as his cousin.
While Amrnianus ridicules Constantius and his statuesque appearance duήng his adventus,
the histoήan presents Julian as both tangible and human, making him a clearly preferable
candidate for the purple. His acclamation came at the hands of his soldiers, who physically raised
him οη a shield and crowned him with a makeshift diadem.40 Ammianus's depiction is once
again instructive:
Mter this the shouts continued none the less οη every side, and since all insisted with
one and the same ardour and with loud and urgent outcήes mingled with abuse and
insults, Caesar was compelled to consent. Then, being placed (impositusque) upon an
infantryman's shield and raised οη high, he was hailed by all as Augustus and bidden to
bring out a diadem. And when he declared that he had never had one, they called for
an ornament from his wife's neck or head ... then a standard-bearer of the Petulantes,
took off the neck-chain which he wore as carήer of the dragon and boldly placed
(imposuit) it οη Julian's head.41
Here, the divide between the impeήal styles of the two emperors is clear.Julian actively decides
to present his acclamation as the decision of the army to avoid the obvious accusations of
usurpation.42 This treatment ofJulian is further aided through three foils toJulian's legitimacy
that are presented throughout the naπatives of his reign, in Julian's own works, as well as
Ammianus's naπative. Timothy Barnes has convincingly argued for these foils being
Constantius, Gallus, andJovian (in the case of Ammianus's history).43Julian is presented as the
favourable choice for emperor, a man who emulated the successes of Marcus Aurelius, rather
than the previous savagery and paranoia of Domitian, whose reign and personality is compared
to those of Constantius and Gallus.44
Julian's Letter to the Athenians, which justified his revolt against Constantius, is a plea to the
citizens of the empire to accept his reign. It argues that his declaration of the civil war was the
only appropήate solution to Constantius's threats and previous behaviour. The Letter was sent
to many cities throughout the empire, including Athens, Coήnth, and Rome.45 The content of
the letter was substantially the same, and we know that its reception in Rome was met with
some consternation and reluctance to acceptJulian's claims; however, its main purpose was to
exonerate Julian from wrongdoing and outlines why his actions were necessary.46 Ammianus
records that the senate of Rome was outraged by Julian's message to them, and their outrage
cumulated with an attack οηJulian's acclamation, " ... with complete agreement they one and
all shouted "We demand reverence for your own creator." 47 The necessity to circulate such a
request, especially in the cities east of Gaul was of importance toJulian's legitimacy and future
success as emperor. He needed to explain himself to an empire that had for 24 years answered to
43
Nicola Rose Ernst
Constantius. Ιη the text, Julian presents himself as the civilis princeps, drawing attention to his
recusatio imperii, which is also naπated by Ammianus.
Then from this place - for the wall lay open - 1 prayed to Zeus. And while the
shouting [ofthe men] became louder and everything was in confusion in the palace, 1
asked the god to grant me a sign. So, he showed me and ordered me to obey and not
to challenge the will ofthe aπny [to make me Augustus]. And even though these signs
were being given to me, 1 did not yield willingly, but held out as long as I could, and 1
did not accept the title [ofAugustus] or the crown. However, since I could not control
so many of them alone, and since the gods who had wished for this to happen urged
the soldiers οη, they worked οη my resolve, somewhere around the third hour, with
some soldier - 1 do not know who - giving me the torque and I put it οη and went
48
into the palace.
Ιη this instance, Julian implicitly sets up his reign as a contrast to that of his impious and
murderous cousin whose acclamation came with dynastic bloodshed and existed for three
months before the official military acclamation of September 337. Julian's acclamation instead
came with the direct input and decisions of the soldiers, where he was physically raised to the
rank of Augustus. Julian was lifted οη a shield and had a makeshift diadem fashioned from the
49
torque of a neck chain worn by a man called Maurus, placed directly οη his head. While
Adrastos Omissi has argued that, to an extent, the Julianic narrative ofthe acclamation served to
remove his agency from the usurpation, 1 believe it also demonstrates that in this case, the
emperor was tangible. Where the soldiery had rebelled at Constantius's orders that they should
march East to aid his Persian expedition, they appear to have happily followed their new
commander and Augustus on the same march, this time towards civil war.50 Julian's acclamation
narratives presented by both the emperor and Ammianus, features a great deal of sensory de
scήption, with the men yelling at their chosen leader, physically raising him οη a shield, and
placing a diadem οη his head:
When they found that I was alive, in their enthusiasm, as if greeting fήends they had
not hoped to see, they jostled me around οη this side and that, and embraced me and
carήed me upon their shoulders.51
Following this acclamation, the emperor marched east with his enthusiastic soldiers, where the
filial civil war was avoided due to Constantius's timely death in November 361. Given its
peaceful outcome, Julian's subsequent adventus to Constantinople in December is then pre
sented as a true military tήumph and acclamation.52 This falls in direct contrast with the re
presentation and consideration ofConstantius's Roman entrance as part ofhis celebrations over
Magnentius and his army. Constantius's adventus was followed by a seήes of games and what
Ammianus descήbes as other commemorations ofspilt Roman blood.53 Julian's entrance to the
city was followed immediately by his attacks οη the 'Όstentatious luxury, and other grave
misdeeds" that came with his purge ofConstantius's officials and supporters.54 This began with
the Chalcedonian tήals, and then Julian's removal of Constantinian excesses from his new
court.
The representation ofJulian's adventus as a truly militaήstic affair, as opposed to the false
victory of Constantius in 357, appears in Ammianus, whose approval of the young emperor's
bloodless return is clear.55 Ammianus's naπative immediately follows the emperor's entrance to
the city with a discussion of the emperor's removal of Constantius's loyal administrators and
44
their tήals at Chalcedon. 56 Ammianus follows this with an account of Julian's expulsion of
barbers, cooks, and eunuchs from Constantius's former court. This is not unexpected given
Julian's usurpation of impeήal power and need to consolidate and protect his newfound im
peήal legitimacy. 57 He certianly needed to ensure that any Constantian loyalists were elimi
nated, or at least conciliated. The tήals at Chalcedon were carήed out not by the emperor, but
by men of proven loyalty, the newly instated praetoήan prefect Salustius Secundus as well as
Mamertinus and four generals, two of whom had served under Constantius. 58 The tήals re
sulted in the deaths of several members of Constantius's court, including the eunuch Eusebius,
whomJulian blamed for orchestrating the death ofGallus. 59 Ammianus descήbes the events and
recounts what happened to a number ofConstantius's courtiers during the tήals, which exposed
the supposed excesses and corruptions of the court. Overall, Arnmianus appears to have agreed
with the measures taken by Julian, except for the fate ofUrsulus, who had been responsible for
60
aidingJulian at times duήng his Western campaigns. The criticism appears to be drawn from
Julian's tangible presence, whereby he had chosen those who would carry out the tήals, rather
than overseeing them himself. Here, one of Ammianus's clear criticisms of his history's hero is
levelled, with his accusation that Julian was "timorous" (timidus), since the death sentences were
delivered not by the emperor, but by one of the generals he entrusted to oversee the tήals. Ιη
this case, the order came from one ofConstantius's former generals, who would have had many
reasons to seek the destruction of the man who helped fund Julian's successful Western cam
paigns. Julian's purge of luxury and excesses immediately followed the tήals at Chalcedon:
He asked for a barber and, when Constantius' barber approached him attired very
lavishly, he said he was looking for a barber, not a senator, and dismissed him. Also,
when he noticed one of the palace cooks in garb more resplendent than his station, he
sent for his own cook, who was dressed like a cook, and asked those present which of
them they thought to be a cook. When they said the one attired inexpensively, he
excused the other. 61
WhileJulian sought to remove the stigma of luxury and courtly coπuption from his new court
inConstantinople by reducing the ceremonial aspects, he did not realise the lack of accessibility
that came with this. This tangible accessibility at the time of Julian's acclamation and adventus
into the cities would not be consistent with the emperor's ascetic behaviour when he was in the
cities: a lack of ceremony removed civic agency. Julian's time in Constantinople saw him
attending senate meetings, and similarly, in Antioch, he sat with the city council. 62 These
actions, while perfectly normal for the pήncipate had long fallen out of use for the emperor and
his bureaucracy in the fourth century. The ceremonial emperorship brought the chance for
local and civic petitions in the emperor's presence, whereas meetings in the senate or council
removed the opportunity for these interactions that were so important to local populations.
Julian had become tangible and accessible for the senatoήal and city elites, but not the wider
populace.
Imperial Presentation and Style: Emulating Marcus Aurelius and the

Destruction of Luxury
As we have seen, Julian's entrance to Constantinople as sole Augustus came with the clear
message that he would not tolerate the same "excessive" ceremonial court as his predecessors.
Julian's reign would bήng a new set of impeήal mores more suited to his self-styled identity as a
new philosopher-king in the mould of Marcus Aurelius. The cήticisms of Constantius's
45
Nicola Rose Ernst
coπupted court are affirmed by references not only in the history of Ammianus, but also the
panegyήc ofMamertinus.63 This censure came in many forms, with the new emperor styling a
public image vastly different to that of his uncle and cousins. Let us now turn to the Julianic
pushback against the Constantinian impeήal image and style.
Constantine's aπival to the Council ofNicaea in 325 is descήbed in the Vita Constantini by
his biographer and bishop of Caesarea, Eusebius. The grand entrance is recorded with great
ceremony, with the emperor's resplendent and ostentatious appearance noted:
When the whole council had with proper ceremony taken their seats, silence fell upon
them all, as they awaited the Emperor's arήval. One of the Emperor's company came
in, then a second, then a third. Υet others led the way, not some of the usual soldiers
and guards, but only of his faithful fήends. All rose at a signal, which announced the
Emperor's entrance; and he finally walked along between them, like some heavenly
angel of God, his bήght mantle shedding lustre like beams of light, shining with the
fiery radiance of a purple robe, and decorated with the dazzling bήlliance of gold and
•
precιous stones....64
Constantine's grand entrance to the council is depicted with all the finery that came with being
emperor. Julian rejected the ostentatious beauty and radiance of his impeήal predecessors.
Julian's self-presentation instead sought to emulate his hero, the philosopher-king, Marcus
Aurelius.65 Where Constantine was represented as embodying impeήal splendour, Julian
proudly denounced this, and boasted about his unkempt, simple appearance and austere lifestyle
within his satirical Misopogon:
And the length of my beard alone is not sufficient, there's also the teπible state of my
head as well, and Ι rarely have my hair cut or my nails trimmed, and my fingers are
mostly black from a pen. And if you would like to learn a secret, my chest is hairy and
shaggy like those of lions who rule as kings of wild beasts, and Ι have never made it
smooth, because of my difficult nature and shabbiness, nor have Ι made any other part
of my body smooth or soft.66
This rejection clearly represents a pushback against the norms that had existed under
Constantius and offered Julian a means to present himself as a new model of impeήal rule.
Shaun Tougher has argued that this change in impeήal behaviour was perhaps more reflective
of Julian's own personal ideals rather than a rejection of Constantius's behaviours; however, Ι
would suggest this change achieved both goals, as both were necessary for preserving his im
peήal legitimacy.67
We see Julian's attacks οη vaήous members of his family throughout his works, most notably
his first satire, the Caesares, as well as the self-justifying Letter to the Athenians. Ιη both texts, he
levels charges of excess and luxury against Constantine and Constantius. Julian's adopted aus
teήty became a key component of his public image, and it extended to such a point that the
population found ways to reject it. He refused to participate in most of the events the populace
expected of a visiting emperor, or indeed, any member of the impeήal house. Julian had fol
lowed the impeήal protocol of adventus duήng his visits to the cities of the East, but he refused
to participate in games or races, which had been an intήnsic aspect of the emperorship, and his
communication with the populace.
Julian's own ascetic distaste for public spectacles like the races and games was ήdiculed and
became one of the charges he had to defend himself fi-om at Antioch. The Julianic attacks οη
46
the excesses of his family are found elsewhere in the histoήcal record, with many anecdotes
surviving regarding the austeήty of Julian which found itself harshly contrasted with the soft
trappings of his family. Moreover, in the anti-Constantinian Zosimus, Constantine is not spared
from charges of excess and pleasure, nor fi-om charges of conciliating the barbaήans.68 Julian's
adoption of an impeήal identity and style heavily influenced by Marcus Aurelius aided his
attacks οη theConstantinian impeήal norms, and this, bound up withJulian's militaristic nature
and identity demonstrated a strong and intentional departure fi-om the impeήal identities of his
fιlial predecessors.
Julian's attempts to adopt the exemplum of Marcus were obvious enough for Ammianus to
draw parallels between the two, as well levelling cήticism atJulian for possessing similar flaws as
Marcus. Julian's emulation of Marcus extended beyond the philosophical and religious, with
Julian choosing to wear his beard in the style of a philosopher and adopting a lifestyle that
neglected the luxuήes that had been favoured by his filial predecessors. The physical emulation
of Marcus with Julian's own beard was a clear marker of the latter's philosophical
education-Julian had been educated in Athens pήor to being called to the court ofConstantius
ΙΙ. Indeed, Julian's philosopher's beard symbolised his self-styled identity and provided an
obvious and visible departure from the norms of his family's imagery. The superficial differences
in the physical appearances of the emperors were obvious to the citizens of empire, and the
Antiochenes mocked Julian's bearded appearance, resulting in the defence of his image in the
Misσpσgσn. 69 Ιη his youth Julian's beard was intrinsic to his identity and was, as he informs the
readers of his Letter tσ the Athenians, he had syrnbolically chosen to shave off upon his accession
as Caesar in 355. Here, Julian at the stroke of a razor's blade transformed from a student of
philosophy, into a soldier and agent of Constantius's regime:
It was as if they (Constantius' men) had gathered in a barber's-they cut off my beard
and dressed me in a soldier's cloak, and as they understood it, transformed me into an
altogether laughable soldier.70
The removal of Julian's philosopher's beard demonstrates his ( forced) conformity to the ac
cepted Constantinian image: all men in the house of Constantine had been presented clean
shaven. Ιη this instance, Julian was ηο longer a philosopher, and here became a cog in the
impeήal machine, stripped of the identity that separated him from his cousin and the
Constantinian line. His decision to don his philosopher's beard was accompanied by his simple
dress and living habits, whereby he presented himself as a military leader, living among his men
and refusing the "soft" furnishings of the life adopted byConstantius. Here,Julian clearly rejects
the notions of the Constantian men, who saw him as a "laughable soldier," demonstrating his
ability to be both a philosopher and military leader. The mockery of the soldiers would be
proven wrong, Julian's transformation into a successful soldier despite these remarks could
indicate the failure of Constantius's regime as a whole. These attacks οη Constantius's ef
feminacy and militaristic failings are not surpήsing-Ammianus's necrology of the emperor
cήticises his failure to realise he was manipulated by his wives and eunuchs. 71
As Stewart and Hebblewhite have suggested, the representation of Julian as a manly foil to
the effeminate Constantius served to outline the former's overall suitability to rule. This was
especially important to the formation of Julian's legitimacy as an emperor who had initially
seized power through military usurpation.72 Where Constantius's army 'Όnly knew how to
pray," Julian's men followed him with great fervour and happily abandoned their posts in the
West, which they had been so reluctant to do for Constantius, and marched to the East with
their general towards the third filial civil war of the Constantinian peήod.73 As mentioned
47
Nicola Rose Ernst
above, the three foils to Julian in Ammianus were designed to bolster Julian's image and le
gitimacy. Barnes suggests Ammianus employs the characters ofConstantius, Gallus, andJovian
to represent the "bad" emperors while Julian reigns in a manner similar to Marcus and is thus
the hero.74 Constantius is thus represented as the opposite to Marcus, allowing further as
similation between Julian and Marcus. Gavin Kelly has further discussed this characteήsation
Ammianus employs similar rhetoήc and tropes associated with Marcus and the uprising of
Avidius Cassius as an inversion of the reality of360/1. By inverting the positions ofConstantius
and Julian to that of usurper and legitimate ruler respectively, Ammianus's Julian carήes more
authoήty, and the application of the exemplum of Marcus to him in this case only furthers the
legitimacy possessed by Julian's claim.75
Following his accession as sole ruler, Julian's philosopher's beard reappeared οη the coinage,
demonstrating a clear and conscious departure fi:-om the Constantinian ideals that had been so
76
clearly set out by his predecessors. Although asCaesarJulian was expected to be beardless, and
was represented as such, we see him depart from this image as Augustus with the minting of
obverse types clearly advertising his bearded appearance.77 This is referred to in the Misσpσgσn,
with the regal style of Constantius implied to be unnatural, with Julian's discussion of his lion
like haiήness an indicator of his position as emperor, just as the lion is the king of beasts.78
Unlike Julian, Constantius and the courtiers of Antioch were hairless and smooth. Julian's
coinage also reflects his decisions in self-representation, with a beard prominent οη the obverse
of the coinage79 (Fig. 3.1 and 3.2).
Although the superficial differences in the imperial image were clear for the empire to see,
Julian's behaviour also departed fi:-om Constantinian protocols. This was often criticised, and
Julian's faux pas in different situations also return to his tangible image. The expectation of his
remote role in administrative duties was overturned by his failure to adhere to the new se
natorial norms which may have included meetings within an impeήal consistory, like the
emperor's court. Ιη particular, Julian's failure to follow expected behaviour in the Senate at
Constantinople is recorded by both Ammianus and Libanius. We are told that, upon heaήng
news of the arήval of his fήend, the philosopher Maximus, Julian abandoned all impeήal
decorum and ceremony, and leapt up to embrace the man. While the action is predictably
descήbed positively by Libanius, 80 to Arnmianus the behaviour was undignified and upset the
senatoήal audience:
Meanwhile, he came frequently into the senate house to give attention to vaήous
matters with which the many changes in the state burdened him. And when one day,
as he was sitting injudgement there, and when it was announced that the philosopher
Maximus had come fi:-om Asia, he stated up in an undign ified manner, so far forgetting
himself that he ran at full speed to a distance from the vestibule, and after having kissed
the philosopher and received him with reverence, brought him back with him. This
unseernly ostentation made him appear to be an excessive seeker for empty fame....81
Although this demonstratesJulian's abandonment of key ceremonial aspects of the emperorship,

in this instance his actions were not accepted by the senators, whose expectations of the em
peror was vastly different to those of the army. However, these two important facets of impeήal
rule were not always compatible, and often would lead to the tensions we see throughout
Julian's reign. While Muήel Moser has concluded that in many ways, Julian's time in the
Constantinopolitan senate was very much in line with the system employed byConstantius; it is
clear that his asceticism was ostentatious. This, moreover, led to a failure to maintain positive
relationships with the civic elites in Antioch; likely because it was a departure fi:-om the
48
Figure 3.1 Solidus of Constantius ΙΙ. Coin from Metropolitan Museum of Art. (67.265.20)
Figure 3.2 Solidus ofJulian. Coin from Metropolitan Museum of Art. (99.35.7409)
Constantinian nonns well established by this point.82 However, the physical accessibility Julian
had with the military had resulted in a positive relationship, partially necessary to ensure his
own survival as an emperor, especially as the leader of the whole anny, rather than only the
Gallic legions. 83 Although the military were in favour of their emperor's leadership and ac
cessibility, Julian's inability to participate in civic issues in the expected impeήal manner would
cause a number of issues, especially duήng his time at Antioch. As we will see, the Antiochene
populace rejected this iteration of imperial presence, with the emperor the butt of many jokes,
and prone to having a great deal of abuse hurled at him. Julian's failure to participate in events
like the races and games denied the citizens the opportunity to petition the emperor in public. 84
49
Nicola Rose Ernst
We know that Julian held ηο esteem for the ceremonial appearances of his predecessors,
with his attacks οη those who came before him referήng to their splendour and extravagance.
Julian had little patience for the indulgences of Constantine and made ηο effort to hide his
distaste for his filial ancestors within his satiήcal Caesares. Here,Constantine's dynasty is again
placed at odds with Marcus, who in this case is likened to Julian. Cήticism for the
Constantinian impeήal dress appears within the Caesares, with Constantine's false beauty
contrasted with Marcus's true philosophical beauty. The text, wήtten at Constantinople, not
long after Julian's official acclamation following Constantius's death, serves Julian's purpose
well. The satire descήbes the Kronia and presents a debate among the gods and emperors (as
well as Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar) about who was the best and most virtuous
ruler.85 It is not surpήsing, given Julian's philosophical predilection and emulation of Marcus
Aurelius that Marcus wins the competition.
Following Marcus's victory, the emperors are then encouraged to find their own model
among the gods and follow the teachings of that particular god. Predictably, Marcus finds he is
best suited to the tutelage of Zeus andCronos, whileConstantine could not find his model, and
instead finds himself in the company ofPleasure (Tρυφήv),Jesus, and Incontinence (Ασωτίαν):
And Constantine, not finding among the gods the exemplum of his life, spotted
Wantonness nearby and he ran to her. She accepted him gently, and she hugged him
and adorned him in embroidered and colourful robes and she made him beautiful and
led him to Profligacy where he also found Jesus hanging around and saying to ev
eryone: 'Whoever is a seducer, whoever is a murderer, he who is polluted and
loathsome, let him come forward confidently. For with this water, 1 will wash him
and make him immediately clean. And even if he becomes guilty of the same things
again, if he smites his chest, and strikes his head, 1 will let him become pure.' And
Constantine fell in very gladly with him.86
The reference made here to Constantine's appearance and dress including many colours is
reminiscent of the Eusebian passage with which this section began-Constantine is dressed
according to his style of rule and his mortal failings. This becomes a key contrast forJulian, who
represents Marcus (probably as an extension of himself) as beautiful, following the philosophical
ideals that came with his abstention fi:-om Constantinian excess and luxury:
' ... So, tel1 Marcus to come in too.' Accordingly, Marcus was summoned and came in
looking excessively dignified and showing the effect of his studies in the expression of
his eyes and his lined brows. His aspect was unutterably beautiful fi:-om the very fact
that he was careless of his appearance and unadorned by art; for he wore a very long
beard, his dress was plain and sober, and fi:-om lack of nourishment his body was very
shining and transparent, like light most pure and stainless.87
Ιη many ways, in the Caesares, Julian parallels his reign to that of Marcus, with Julian depicting
himself as supeήor to the winner of the contest. Marcus is presented as a man of great virtue,
despite not being perfect Gulian indeed cήticised Marcus for his excessive affection for his
"immoral" wife).88 Further, this image countered that ofConstantine, hence,Julian's aligning of
himself with Marcus appears to have been an attempt to also prove his supeήoήty to his uncle and
overall, all of his dynastic predecessors. Julian also used the image constructed of Marcus in the
Misσpσgσn, wήtten a year following the Caesares. This construction of Marcus aided Julian's
pushback fi:-om theConstantinian nonns as he clearly reminds his audience of his literary pursuits,
50
sirnilar to his hero, who is said to have spent most of his time in his study. 89 However, while
Julian's construction of his own impeήal legitimacy and tangibility appealed to his own ascetic
understanding of the impeήal role, the larger populace found it less accessible and less attractive.
Imperial Identity and the People: Lack of Ceremony

AlthoughJulian considered himself as the ideal model of an emperor, he possessed an inherent
inability to present his impeήal identity in an accessible manner. Despite presenting himself as
removed from ceremony and thus a more tangible figure, the lack of ceremony could also result
in a state of remoteness from the people. This appears to have been the case at Antioch. The
lack of ceremonial behaviour and events removed the agency and opportunities for pressure
from the local populace. This is in direct contrast to the image of imperial power presented by
Ammianus, whose ceremonial and remote emperors were inaccessible. Indeed, such contrast
may be the result of Ammianus's own career as a soldier: the militaήstic aspects of the emperor
°
were more relatable to him due to his past. 9 Constantius and his failure to follow the sug
gestions of his generals and his strategy of conciliation, rather than suppression of enemies was
part of his ceremonial, remote style of rule. Julian, however, endeavoured to be involved in
events. This section will focus uponJulian's troubled time in Antioch, which became his base
betweenJuly 362 and February 363. The obvious result of his frustrating time in Antioch was
the penning of the Misopogσn.91 Several points within the Misσpσgσn point towards the rejection
of Julian's austerity by the populace, and the grating tensions he found with the notoήously
difficult Antiochenes. 92 Among Julian's many fi-ustrations with the Antiochenes, perhaps the
most trying for him can be best explained by his comrnentary οη the citizens:
"The Chi," say the citizens, "never harmed the city in any way, nor did the Kappa." 93 Here
the Chi is a reference to Christ, and the Kappa a reference to Constantius ΙΙ. Julian had an
ticipated Antioch would be an enthusiastic audience for his "pagan restoration" and did not
expect the apathy of its citizens. 94Julian, expecting an exuberant adherence to his austere brand
of paganism, was shocked to find the citizens at odds with his behaviour. Maud Gleason's
seminal work οη the text as an impeήal "edict of chastisement" has brought many questions
with it. 95 While Gleason argues that the Misopσgon's form was something relatively comrnon in
late antiquity, Lieve Van Hoof and Peter Van Nuffelen have more recently and persuasively
argued otherwise, proposing the text appears more aggressive than only chastisement, citing the
impact its damnation of Antioch could have οη its future prospeήty. 96 The Misopogσn should
therefore also be read alongside the legislation of the peήod, which displays a reactive and
virulent response to issues by the emperor. 97 Julian's failures as emperor are best exhibited
through his time at Antioch, where his failure to provide any concession to the Chήstian
comrnunities or to consider the necessity for public populaήty resulted in the strained re
lationship with the city, and his petulant exit in 363. 98
This was the beginning of his strained relationship with the Antiochenes, who would also
respond negatively to his attempts to revive traditional religious practices. 99 Julian's filial
predecessors-the Count Julian (his maternal uncle), Constantius, and Gallus-had all spent
time in the city acting in the manner that was deemed as usual for the emperor, with their
attendance at the games and other eventsJulian avoided. 100 WhileJulian's tangibility with the
soldiery endeared him to them, his failure to act in the expected ceremonial norms established
by his family in impeήal cities instead extended his remoteness fi-om the populace. 101 His
emulation of Marcus Aurelius in his ascetic lifestyle and lack of participation in events including
games and races at the circus, and his excessive sacήficial activities, which had lost their public
appeal, further alienated him fi-om the populace of the city. 102
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Nicola Rose Ernst
While Constantius and Gallus, who both spent significant time in the city gifted the
Antiochenes Chήstians benefactions and responded to the requests of the now dominant
Chήstian communities, Julian did not provide such patronage. Constantius had been present for
the Dedication Council of 341, celebrating the dedication of the Golden Church of Antioch,
and Gallus had been responsible for constructing the martyήum to the local martyr, StBabylas,
whereas Julian ignored the Chήstian community until the events suπounding the removal of
Babylas's remains.103 Instead, he attempted to restore the site of the Oracle of Apollo at
Daphne, by the Castalian Spring, destroyingBabylas's martyήum, as well as the buήal of other
Chήstians. This was met with outrage and certainly placed Julian at further odds with the
devout populace. These actions, and refusal to acknowledge the Antiochene embracement of
Chήstianity resulted in more public displays against Julian, this time focussed upon his pagan
austerity. The citizens of Antioch paraded the relics ofBabylas past the temples, shouting, " ...
4
confounded are all they who worship graven images, who boast themselves in idols." 10 Ιη fact,
Julian notes the civic admiration for the local saint by the populace within the Misopogon, as well
as referήng to his worship in his rescript οη funerals.105
Julian's attempts at a pagan restoration were to fall οη the deaf ears of the Antiochenes, who
appear to have prefeπed Constantius and Gallus's Chήstian benefactions to Julian's attempts to
reinvigorate the traditional cults. It has indeed been suggested that the removal ofBabylas and
his reinterment in the martyήum at Daphne came at some level fi:-om public and ecclesiastical
pressure upon Gallus. Julian's failure to follow the ceremonial norms now expected of an
impeήal representative resulted in his failed communications with the citizens. As Van Hoof
and Van Nuffelen rightly argue, from his arήval Julian managed to place the city offside,
disregarding the shouts of the populace duήng his adventus. His apparent tone-deaf nature,
ignoήng the Antiochenes extended to the disastrous affair surrounding the shήne of Apollo at
Daphne, and the remains of StBabylas.
Conclusion
Julian's brief reign brought with it a number of decisive and divisive changes that were sign ified
by a clear pushback fi:-om Constantinian imperial norms. While the ceremonial style of the rule
would become the norm for the later Roman empire, Julian's pushbacks signified a desire to
style himself in a manner different fi:-om that of his predecessors. While in many ways this made
him a more tangible figure and emperor, especially to his soldiery, it alienated him fi:-om the
impeήal populace who relied upon these ceremonies to communicate their concerns and re
lieve pent-up tensions. Julian's reign was a purposeful departure fi:-om the impeήal image of his
filial predecessors, especially in relation to his control over his acclamation naπative. Further, Ι
posit that Julian's desire to return to the golden age of Marcus Aurelius was obvious not only
from his martial nature, but fi:-om his physical self-representation, and his rejection of the
Constantinian court that had become the norm in Constantinople. While Julian saw these
changes as successful, the last case study demonstrated that by attempting to maintain the role of
the philosopher-king, he instead managed to promote an austerity that was not widely ac
cepted, especially in the highly Chήstianized city of Antioch. While Julian might have un
derstood his impeήal image and reign as a tangible alternative to the ceremonial Constantius, he
did not anticipate that the empire would not join him οη his ideological journey back to the
golden era of Marcus Aurelius.
* My thanks go to the editors of this volume for inviting my contήbution. My thanks and
appreciation also extend to Professor Richard Flower, and Dr. Will Lewis for their helpful
comments and suggestions that very much improved this chapter. All errors remain my own.
52
Notes
1 At this point, Constantine had named his three sons as Caesars, as well as appointing his nephew
Dalmatius to the same rank, and his other nephew, Hannibalianus to the rank of rex regum. For more
οη the Constantinian accession plan, see: Timothy D. Barnes, Constantine and Eusebius (Cambήdge,
ΜΑ: HUP, 1981), 251-2; Richard W. Burgess "The Summer ofBlood: The 'Great Massacre' of337
and the Promotion of the Sons of Constantine," DOP 62 (2008): 7-10; Robert Frakes, "The
Dynasty of Constantine Down to 363," ίη The Cambridge Companion to the Age of Constantine, ed. Ν.
Lenski (Cambήdge: CUP, 2006): 94-5; Jill Harήes, Imperial Rome AD 284-363: The New Empire
(Edinburgh: EUP, 2012), 186-8.
2 Cf. Burgess, "Summer ofBlood."
3 Several sources place direct blame upon Constantius, most of which use this event for their own
legitimacy. Athanasius and Julian were two of Constantius's most virulent detractors: Ammianus
Marcellinus, "Res gestae," ίη Ammianus Marcellinus, History Books 20-26, ed. J.C. Rolfe (Cambήdge,
ΜΑ: HUP, 1940), 178-9, 21.16.8; Athanasius, 'Ήistoήa Aήanorum," ίη Imperial Invectives Against
Constantius ΙΙ, ed. R. Flower (Liverpool: LUP, 2016), 98, 69.1-3; Julian, "Letter to the Athenians,"
ίη The Works of the Emperor Julian, ed. W.C. Wright (London: William Heinemann, 1913-1923),
241-91, 270 C. The naπative ofthe massacre differs between Constantius's ordeήng ofthe deaths,
and the emperor's failure to prevent the murders: Aurelius Victor, Liber De Caesaribus, ed. H.W. Bird
(Liverpool: LUP, 1994), 41; Eutropius, Breviarum, ed. H.W. Bird (Liverpool: LUP, 1993) 10.9;
Zosimus, Historia Nova, ed. R. Ridley (Melbourne: AABS, 1986), 2.40.
4 Julian, Letter to the Athenians, 270C-D.
5 Socrates Scholasticus, 'ΉΕ," 3.1, ίη Α Select Library of Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian
Church: Socrates and Sozomen, vol 2., ed. A.C. Zenos (Michigan: Grand Rapids, 1952), 1-178. " ... a
disease which threatened to be fatal preserved Gallus from the violence of his father's murderers;
while the tenderness ofJulian's age-for he was only eight years old at the time-protected hirn."
Burgess, "Summer ofBlood," 10 nt. 35.
6 Bruno Bleckrnann, "Der Bίirgerkrieg zwischen Constantin ΙΙ. und Constans (340 η. Chr.)," ΗΖ 52
(2003): 242; William Lewis, "Constantine ΙΙ and His Brothers: The Civil War of340," ίη The Sons of
Constantine, AD 337-361: In the Shadows of Constantine and Julian, eds. Ν. Baker-Bήan and S.
Tougher (London: Palgrave Macrnillan, 2020), 58.
7 Although, ironically, this was something he shared with his uncle, Constantine Ι, whose ήse to
power saw both an official acclamation and civil wars.
8 Constantine's three sons were acclaimed as Augusti by the military οη 9 September 337 at Pannonia,
but as will be argued, this acclamation was unlike that ofJulian's, which was at least ίη part instigated
by the military.
9 Andrew Wallace-Hadήll, "Civilis Princeps: Between Citizen and Κing," JRS 72 (1982): 48 provides
an in-depth overview ofthe expectations of the civilis princeps throughout the pήncipate and includes
some discussion of the revival of this concept under Julian.
10 Stanislav Dolezal, "Some Remarks οη the Οήgίη of προσκύνησις at the Late Antique Impeήal
Court," Byzantion 79 (2009): 136-7; Harήes, New Empire, 83-4 discusses the tradition ofDiocletian's
responsibility for a shift ίη the expected ceremonial, especially that found at Aurelius Victor, Liber De
Caesaribus, 39 and Eutropius, Breviarum, 9.26.
11 Chήstopher Kelly, Ruling the Later Roman Empire (London: Belknap Press, 2004), 1-3.
12 For discussion of Late Antique ceremonial see Mathew Canepa, The Two Eyes of the Earth: Art and
Ritual of Kingship Between Rome and Sasanian Iran (Berkeley: UCP, 2009); Sabine MacCoπnack, Art
and Ceremony in Late Antiquity (Berkeley: UCP, 1981).
13 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 16.10. This episode tends to be used as the example of adventus in
the ancient world by scholars including MacCoπnack, Art and Ceremony, 31-45; However, as
Richard Flower, "Tamquam Figmentum Hominis: Ammianus, Constantius ΙΙ and the Portrayal of
Impeήal Ritual," CQ 65 (2015): 822-35 has argued, it should be considered more carefully.
14 Stewart, Soldier's Life, 121 nt. 112 lists a number of ancient references to Constantius's failed mili
taήstic endeavours including Libanius, 'Όration 18, Funeral Oration Over Julian," 113, ίη Libanius:
Selected Orations, vol. 1, ed. A.F. Norman (Harvard: HUP, 1969), 277-489; Ammianus Marcellinus,
Res gestae 14.10; Zosimus, New History, 2.55, 3.1.
15 Mark Humphήes "Naπative and Subversion: Exemplary Rome and Impeήal Misrule ίη Ammianus
Marcellinus," ίη Some Organic Readings of Narrative (Ancient Narrative Supplement 27), eds. F.G.
53
Nicola Rose Ernst
Herπnann and Ι. Repath (Groningen: Barkhuis, 2019), 235ff discusses the importance ofthe delayed
entrance and the visit to Rome as a tήumph over Magnentius.
16 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 16.10. 1-13, trans. Walter Hamilton, Ammianus Marcellinus: The
Later Roman Empire, (London: Penguin, 1986).
17 Flower, "Figmentum Hominis," 827.
18 Marcellinus, Res gestae 16. 10.10. "For he both stooped when passing through lofty gates (although
he was very short) ... "
19 Marcellinus, Res gestae 21.16.19. relates the emperor's short legs; Flower, "Figmentum Hominis," 833.
20 Flower, "Figmentum Hominis," 826-7 lists instances of similar rhetoήc coming from Julian, Libanius
and Lucifer ofCagliaή. See e.g., Richard Flower, Imperial Invectives Against Constantius ΙΙ (Liverpool:
LUP, 2016). While Flower's focus is upon the ecclesiastical wήters, attacks from Ammianus,
Eunapius, Julian, and Libanius can be added to this collection of anti-Constantian works.
21 These effigies were not always treated with respect. Libanius, 'Όration 19: Το the Emperor
Theodosius, About the Riots," 48, in Libanius: Selected Orations, vol. 2, ed. A.F. Norman
(Cambridge, ΜΑ: HUP, 1977): informs his readers that the citizens ofEdessa tore down and beat the
statue of Constantius "as if he were a school child." Frank Trombley, "The Destruction of Pagan
Statuary and Chήstianisation (Fourth-Sixth Century CE)," in The Sculptural Environment cif the Roman
Near East: Reflections on Culture, Ideology and Power, eds. Υ.Ζ. Eliav, Ε.Α. Fήedland and S. Herbert
(Leuven: Peeters, 2008), 142-5 discusses the beliefs of statues possessing a level of liveliness about
them, that resulted in their status as agents for the gods. This could be extended to the images of the
emperors representing the will and rule of the emperors; Harήes, Imperial Rome, 292.
22 Marcellinus, Res gestae 21.16.16: 'Ήe was to an excessive degree under the influence ofhis wives and
the shήll-voiced eunuchs, and certain of the court officials"; 21.16.15 " ... although this emperor in
foreign wars met with loss and disaster, yet he was elated by his success in civil conflicts and drenched
with awful gore from the internal wounds of the state." Shaun Tougher, The Eunuch in Byzantine
History and Society (London: Routledge, 2008), 36-7 discusses the influence ofthe Chamberlain and
eunuch Eusebius, who was killed after the Chalcedonian tήals.
23 Marcellinus, Res gestae 16.10.1 (trans. Rolfe); Humphήes, "Naπative and Subversion," 235 also
stresses the undeserved and overall "un-Roman" nature ofConstantius's tήumphal return to Rome.
24 Marcellinus, Res gestae 22. 2.5.
25 Pieπe Dufraigne, Adventus Augusti, Adventus Christi: Recherche sur l'exploitation idέologique et littέraire
d'un cέrέmonial dans l'antiquitέ tardive (Paήs: Collection des Etudes augustiniennes. Seήe Antiquite,
1994), 189.
26 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 16.10.9: " ... he showed himself as calm and imperturbable as he
was commonly seen in his provinces."; Dufraigne, Adventus Augusti, Adventus Christi: Recherche sur
l'exploitation idέologique et littέraire d'un cέrέmonial dans l'antiquitέ tardive, 190.
27 Claudius Mamertinus, "Panegyrici Latini 3, 3.1-4.4," in In Praise cif Later Roman Emperors: The
Panegyrici Latini, eds. C.E.V. Nixon and B.S. Rodgers (Berkeley: UCP, 1994), 386-93.
28 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 21.10.2; Susanna Elm, Sons cif Hellenism, Fathers of the Church:
Emperor ]ulian, Gregory cif Nazianzus, and the Vision cif Rome (Berkeley: UCP, 2012), 270;
MacCormack, Art and Ceremony, 45-7.
29 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 16.10 (Constantius), 22. 2 Gulian's adventus to Constantinople),
Flower, "Tamquam Figmentum Hominis: Ammianus, Constantius ΙΙ and the Portrayal of Impeήal
Ritual," 824, nt. 6 notes that the similar phrases are used for the entrance, but Ammianus in his usual
pro-Julianic manner does not include any references to "deceptive appearances."
30 Stewart, Soldier's Life, 114.
31 David Rohrbacher, "Physiognomics in Impeήal Latin Biography," Classical Antiquity 29 (2010): 106
discusses the physiognomics within Ammianus's text and suggests that Constantius's light hair in
dicated his effeminacy and illegitimacy, especially when compared to the complexion, build, and
darker hair ofJulian.
32 Mark Hebblewhite, The Emperor and the Army in the Later Roman Empire, AD 235-395 (London:
Roudedge, 2017), 11, 19, 21.
33 Hebblewhite, Emperor and the Army, 58.
34 For more οη this see: Javier Arce, "The Inscήption ofTroesmis (ILS 724) and the First Victoήes of
Constantius ΙΙ as Caesar," Zeitschriftfur Papyrologie und Epigraphik 48 (1982): 246-7; Simon Corcoran,
"Galeήus, Maximinus and the Titulature of the Third Tetrarchy," Bulletin of the Institute cif Classical
Studies 49 (2006): 231-2.
54
35 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 21.16.15; Julian, Letter to the Athenians, 280Β: "But how could it
(the payment to the barbaήans) fail to be disgraceful when it seemed so even to Constantius who was
only too much in the habit of trying to conciliate the barbarians ... "; Socrates Scholasticus, ΗΕ 3.1:
"Moreover, he sought to bήng Constantius into contempt, by reciting publicly in every city the
letters which he had wήtten to the barbaήans; and thus having rendered the inhabitants of these
places disaffected, they were easily induced to revolt from Constantius to himself." Clifford Ando,
Imperial Ideology and Provincial Loyalty in the Roman Empire (Berkeley: UCP, 2000), 195-6 suggests
that Julian read Constantius's letters to the barbaήans aloud in order to demonstrate his weaknesses.
36 Julian, Letter to the Athenians, 278D.
37 For the likelihood that Julian orchestrated some aspects of this second acclamation, see: Glen W.
Bowersock, ]ulian the Apostate (London: Duckworth, 1978) 47-8; Ross, Narrative and Genre, 157-8;
Adrastos Omissi, Emperors and Usurpers in the Later Roman Empire: Civil War, Panegyric, and the
rif
Construction Legitimacy (Oxford: OUP, 2018), 191ff. However, some scholars still adhere to the
Julianic line of its occuπence being spontaneous and out of Julian's control: Anthony Kaldellis,
''Julian, the Hierophant of Eleusis, and the Abolition of Constantius' Tyranny," CQ 55 (2005): 653;
rif
John Matthews, The Roman Empire Ammianus Marcellinus (London: Duckworth, 1989), 94, 114.
38 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 25.3.6 notesJulian's disregard for his own safety, and his bravery in
defending his men.
39 Stewart, Soldier's Life, 114-6.
40 Οη Julian's militaήstic acclamation see: Hebblewhite, Emperor and the Army, 145-6, Hans Teider,
"Raising οη a Shield: Oήgin and Afterlife of a Coronation Ceremony," International Journal the rif
Classical Tradition 8 (2002): 501-21, here 505-6.
41 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 20.4.17-18 (trans. Rolfe).
42 Omissi, Emperors and Usurpers, 208-22; Roger C. Blockley, "ConstantiusGallus andJulian as Caesars
of Constantius ΙΙ," Latomus 31 (1972): 440-1 notes that Mamertinus does not mention the way in
whichJulian came to power, which had been intήnsic to preserving the emperor's legitimacy despite
his usurpation.
43 Bames, Historical Reality, 131.
44 Ammianus οη Constantius's cruelty 21.16.8; Gallus: 14.1.9 compares Gallus's cruelty to that of
Gallienus (r. 253-268); 11.29 compares him to Domitian.
45 Scholarship οη the letter is relatively sparse, but see: Mark Humphήes, "The Tyrant's Mask? Images
ofGood and Bad Rule inJulian's Letter to the Athenians," in Emperor and Author: The Writings of]ulian
the Apostate, eds. N.J. Baker-Bήan and S. Tougher (Swansea: Classical Press ofWales, 2012), 75-7;
Elm, Sons of Hellenism, 66-70, 75.
46 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 21.10.7; Humphήes, "Tyrant's Mask?," 77.
47 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 21.10.7. This is not a surpήsing response from the Roman senate,
who had seen a number of civil wars in the city pήor to 361, including Constantine's defeat of
Maxentius, and Magnentius's troops deposition of Flavius Nepotianus in 350.
48 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 20.4.14-18; Julian, Letter to the Athenians, 284C-D; 285Α (my
trans.); Caillan Davenport and Chήstopher Mallan, 'Ήadήan's Adoption Speech in Cassius Dio's
Roman History and the Problems of Impeήal Succession," American ]ournal of Philology 135 (2014):
637-68, here 646 discusses the recusatio of Antoninus in Dio's naπative, expressing that it was an
expected action for those who would be "good" emperors. Hebblewhite, Emperor and the
Army, 145-6.
49 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 20.4.18. Julian, Letter to the Athenians, 284D.
50 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 20.4.10 naπates the anxieties of the soldiers moving East.
51 Julian, Letter to the Athenians, 285C (my trans).
52 Elm, Sons of Hellenism, 89.
53 Humphήes, "Naπative and Subversion," 235.
54 Elm, Sons of Hellenism, 89.
55 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 22.2.3; MacCormack, Art and Ceremony, 46-7.
56 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 22.3.2-6 οη the tήals and deaths of several Constantian loyalists.
57 Shaun Tougher, ]ulian the Apostate (Edinburgh: EUP, 2007) οη the expulsion of courtiers and the
new strearnlined court of Julian.
58 Blockley, "Constantius Gallus," 449.
59 Julian's distance from the trial poses some questions. It appears logical for the emperor to maintain
some distance from the event as suggested by Blockley to ensure that aπnies and senators of the East
55
Nicola Rose Ernst
who were unfamiliar with him were not threatened by his decisions, and that any sentences for
military figures, including Ursulus acted as conciliatory events that would ensure Julian's positive
relationship with Constantius's army.
60 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 22.3.7: 'Justice herself seems to me to have wept (after the death
of Ursulus) and to have accused the emperor of ingratitude."
61 rif rif
Zonaras, 'Ήistory, 13.12," in The History Zonarasfrom Alexander Severns to the Death Theodosius
the Great, eds. Τ.Μ Banchich and Ε.Ν. Lane (London: Roudedge, 2009).
62 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 22.10.3; Harήes, Imperial Rome; Muriel Moser, Emperor and
Senators in the Reign ofConstantius ΙΙ: Maintaining Imperial Rule Between Rome and Constantinople in the
Fourth Century AD (Cambήdge: CUP, 2018), 329.
63 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 21.16.16 οη Constantius being controlled by eunuchs, courtiers,
and women; Claudius Mamertinus, Panegyrici Latini 3, 21.1-2.
64 Eusebius, "Vita Constantini, 3.10," in Eusebius: Life rif Constantine, trans. Cameron and Stuart Hall
(Oxford: CP, 1999).
65 Julian, "Letter to Themistius, 253Α," in The Works ofthe Emperor ]ulian, ed. W.C. Wήght (London:
William Heinemann, 1913-1923), 202-37: "There was a time when Ι believed that Ι ought to try to
ήval men who have been most distinguished for excellence, Alexander, for instance, orMarcus; but Ι
shivered at the thought and was seized with terror lest Ι should fail entirely to come up to the courage
of the former, and should not make even the least approach to the latter's perfect virtue... "; Harήes,
Imperίal Rome, 295; For a discussion of the use ofMarcus as an exemplum in Late Antiquity is discussed
by several scholars, see Gavin Kelly, "Constantius ΙΙ, Julian, and the Example of Marcus Aurelius,"
Latomus 64 (2005): 409-16, and David Hunt, 'Julian and Marcus Aurelius," in Ethics and Rhetorίc:
Classical Essaysfor Donald Russell on his 75thBirthday, eds. D. Innes, Η. Hine and C. Pelling (Oxford:
OUP, 1995), 287-98. While Hunt rejects the idea ofJulian's emulation ofMarcus, Ι believe that the
austerity with which Julian ruled, and his several references to Marcus throughout his works offer
evidence of his adoption of the emperor as a model, even if it served to denigrate his cousin.
66 Julian, Misopogon, 339Β (my trans.).
67 Tougher,Julian, 47-8.
68 Zosimus, New History, 2.34 ends with the polemical statement, 'Ίη plain terms, Constantine was the
oήgin and beginning of the present destruction of the empire."
69 Cf. Julian, Misopogon, 339A-C.
70 Α11 the Greek fromJulian's works used for my own translations deήve from the Loeb: W. Wήght,
The Works rifthe Emperor]ulian: Volumes 1-3 (London: William Heinemann, 1913-1923).
71 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 21.16.16. This cήticism is not confined to Ammianus with
Zosimus and the ecclesiastical invectives also levelling this charge: Athanasius, Historίa Arίanornm,
37.2; Zosimus, New History, 2.55 blames the eunuchs of the court for influencing Constantius's
decision to execute Gallus. Tougher, Eunuch, 36-7; Keith Hopkins and Morήs Hopkins, 'Έunuchs
in Politics in the Later Roman Empire," Proceedings ofthe Cambrίdge Philological Society 9 (1963): 66
follows the traditional line of the corrupting influence of eunuchs, who were used by the Aήans to
get their message to Constantius.
72 See also: Omissi, Emperors and Usurpers, 193-5.
73 Julian οη the men willingly following him: Letter to the Athenians, 283.Β (οη refusal), 286D;
Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 20.4.1-4; Hebblewhite, Emperor and the Army, 21.
74 Ι am inclined to read Gallus's representation in the history of Ammianus as a result of Constantius's
own failures, rather than a reflection of Gallus's own agency and actions. Gallus's faults are ultimately
the result of Constantius's inability to choose appropήate allies. Indeed, his murder of other dynasts
resulted in only Gallus surviving and the need for dynastic connections was ultimately placed upon
Gallus, who was entirely unsuitable for his role as Caesar.
75 Ammianus compares the two implicitly with the representation ofJulian as Marcus, and Constantius
ΙΙ as the usurper Avidius Cassius throughout his work. Kelly, "Constantius ΙΙ," investigates this trope.
Julian is criticised by Ammianus, despite being the hero of his work at several points, one of which
appears within the eulogy for Julian, where his overzealous sacήficial behaviour is compared to that
of Marcus.
76 Fernando Sanchez, 'Julian and His Coinage: Α Very Constantinian Pήnce," in Emperor and Author:
rif
The Wrίtings Julian the Apostate, eds. N.J. Baker-Brian and S. Tougher (Swansea: Classical Press of
Wales, 2012), 177; Εήc Varner, "Roman Authoήty, Impeήal Authoήty, and Julian's Artistic
Program," inEmperor and Author: The Wrίtings ofJulian the Apostate, eds. Ν. Baker-Bήan and S.
56
Tougher (Swansea: Classical Press ofWales, 2012), 183-211, here 183-86 discusses the changes in
Julian's appearance οη his coinage, from clean-shaven to bearded.
77 Οη the use of coinage as a means of mass-communication see, Carlos Noreiιa, "The Communication
of the Emperor's Virtues," JRS 91 (2001): 146-68, Tom Stevenson, "Personifications οη the
Coinage ofVespasian (AD 69-79)," Acta Classica 53 (2010): 181-205.
78 Julian, Misopogon, 338Β, 339Β.
79 Varner, "Roman Authoήty," 184-5 discusses some of the earlier issues ofJulian's time as Augustus
that depict him as beardless, although, these are most likely minted before he was the true sole
Augustus of the empire.
80 Libanius, Oration 18, Funeral Oration Over]ulian, 155-7; Elm, Sons ofHellenism, 106; Harήes, Imperial
Rome, 306.
81 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 22.7.3 (trans. Rolfe).
82 Moser, Emperor and Senators, 328-31.
83 E.g., Julian's appointment of generals, both his own and Constantian at the tήals at Chalcedon
demonstrates this. His punishment of some senatoήal elites and allies of Constantius demon
strates this.
84 For a detailed and recent discussion of the role of the hippodrome in the impeήal ceremony, see
David Parnell, "The Emperor and His People at the Chaήot Races in Byzantium," The International
rif
]ournal the History of Sport 37 (2020): 233-45.
85 Barry Baldwin, "The Caesares ofJulian," Klio 60 (1978): 449-6; Wήght, The Works the Emperor rif
Julian, 343.
86 Julian, Caesares, 336Β (my trans.).
87 Julian, Caesares, 317C (trans.Wήght).
88 Julian, Caesares, 312Α-Β: "but he [Silenus] would not ignore his eπors of judgement in the case of
his son [Commodus] and his wife, in that he mourned the latter beyond what was becorning,
especially considering she was not even a virtuous woman; and he failed to see that his son was
ruining the empire as well as hirnself. ..."
89 Cassius Dio, "Roman History," 72.36.2, in Dio Cassius, Roman History Vol. 9, ed. Ε. Cary
(Cambήdge, ΜΑ: HUP, 1989); Julian, Misopogon, 339Β refers to his fingers being black from always
wήting.
90 John Matthews, The Roman Empire of Ammianus: With α New Introduction (Αηη Arbor: Michigan
Classical Press, 2007), 5-7.
91 Elm (Sons ofHellenism, 328) draws attention to the fact the text was perhaps less aggressive thanJulian
could have made it, noting that this is all he left for the Antiochenes as a rerninder of his anger, rather
than the stήpping the city of its status as he had done in Caesarea.
92 Of course, a number of factors may have influenced the Antiochene rejection ofJulian, including the
alleged reign of teπor under Gallus, and the strain his soldiery may have placed upon the local
populace in relation to food and violence.
93 Julian, Misopogon, 357Α.
94 Julian, Misopogon, 362Β refers to Julian's surpήse that the only animal available for sacήfice was a
goose.
95 Maud Gleason, "Festive Satire: Julian's Misopogon and the New Year at Antioch," JRS 76
(1986): 108-9.
96 LieveVan Hoof and PeterVan Nuffelen, "Monarchy and Mass Communication: Antioch AD 362/3
Revisited," JRS 101 (2011): 166-84 also stress the text is perhaps more clement than the other
measures Julian could have taken against the city.
97 Ιη particular, the affair suπounding the memory of St Babylas and Julian's Funeral Law of Feb 363
need to be considered alongside the Misopogon.
98 Julian, Misopogon, 368C; Harήes, Imperial Rome, 293; Van Hoof and Van Nuffelen, "Mass
Communication," 172.Van Hoof andVan Nuffelen discuss the econornic backdrop for the tensions
at Antioch, withJulian's poor response to the food shortage that carne with his aπny winteήng in the
city. However, again, this needs to be considered in the wider context ofJulian's problems with the
city that also carne as a response to his failed attempts to restore the pagan cults. Cf. Glanville
Downey, "Julian the Apostate at Antioch," Church History 8 (1939): 304.
99 Οη Julian's pagan revival see, Scott Bradbury, "Julian's Pagan Revival and the Decline of Blood
Sacήfice," Phoenix 49 (1995): 337-68, here 349; ChήstopherJones, "Thernistius After the Death of
Julian," ΗΖ 59 (2010): 501-6, here 501.
57
Nicola Rose Ernst
100 Julian, Misopogon, 340Α: 'Ί mean that Ι hate horse-races as men who owe money hate the mar
ketplace. Therefore, Ι seldom attend them, only duήng the festivals ofthe gods; and Ι do not stay the
whole day as my cousin used to, and my uncle [Count Julian], and my brother."
101 Meaghan McEvoy, "Rome and the Transformation ofthe Impeήal Office in the Late Fourth-Mid
Fifth Centuήes AD," Papers of the British School at Rome 78 (2010): 151-92, here 159-62.
102 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 25.17.3. Scott Bradbury, "Constantine and the Problem of Anti
Pagan Legislation in the Fourth Century," Classical Philology 89 (1994): 120-39, here 134.
103 Wendy Mayer and Pauline Allen, The Churches of Syrian Antioch, 300-638 CE (Leuven: Peeters,
2012), 32-49.
104 Socrates Scholasticus, ΗΕ 3.18; Sozomen, 'ΉΕ 5.19," in Α Select Library of Nicene and Post-Nicene
Fathers of the Christian Church: Socrates and Sozomen, vol 2., ed. C.D. Hartranft (Michigan: Grand
Rapids, 1952), 179-427.
105 Julian, Misopogon, 361B-D.
58
4
SOLDIER-EMPERORS AND ΤΗΕ
MOTIF OF IMPERIAL VIOLENCE
ΙΝ ΤΗΕ ΒΥΖΑΝΤΙΝΕ EMPIRE
The emperor was understood as a tήumphant bήnger of victoήes, ηο matter how unwarlike an
individual ruler might be. While some emperors embraced this idea-we might point to
1
Constantine 1, Heraclius, Basil 11-for others it was more theoretical. Ιη the Roman peήod,
even strongly civilian rulers appeared in public art and coinage in military garb as a matter of
course. The typical Byzantine impeήal image, however, presented the emperor in dazzling
civilian finery, frontal and static, the calm, motionless centre of divine order.2 Military de
pictions of Byzantine emperors are in fact quite rare, even for rulers who actively campaigned
with their armies. The majority appear οη coinage, but the overall amount is so limited that
Gήerson can characteήse military scenes as "virtually unknown" after the sixth century.3 If we
track militaήstic portrayals and behaviour of emperors, a kind of pendulum swing develops
between civilian and soldierly, with high points in the fourth, seventh, and late tenth to ele
venth centuήes, often connected to peήods of cήsis.4 There is also a kind of disconnect be
tween impeήal military behaviour and its presentation in literary sources and official art. Even
during peήods of heightened Byzantine militaήsm, emperors still cleave to civilian icono
graphy. This chapter will trace the way the motif of the soldier-emperor was deployed between
the early fourth and late twelfth centuries, two peήods of highly militaήstic emperors, who
promoted themselves as having saved the Empire from cήsis.
Late Antique Emperors: From the Barracks to the Palace

Constantine I was the paradigmatic pious Chήstian ruler, but particularly in his early reign his
public image was of a campaigning soldier-emperor. Even his adoption of Chήstianity was
closely connected to his military role. Panegyήcs praise (and occasionally censure) Constantine
for fighting: 'Ύou go fearlessly through the hostile lines, you break through all the thickest
ranks, you stήke them down, you trample them ... With the battle scarcely over and much of
the night passed, worn out by slaughter, panting from combat, smeared with blood, but the
enemy's blood, you hastened back to the siege."5
He is depicted in battle both οη his Arch and his coinage-charging οη horseback (Fig. 4.1),
and dragging and trampling captives.6 This militaristic imagery was in part an inheήtance of the
third-century cήsis. Depictions of direct impeήal violence were rare before this peήod, but the
collapse of both impeήal borders and imperial legitimacy in the mid-third century led emperors
DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-5 59
Figure 4.1 Constantine Ι, VIRTVS CO-NSTANTINI CAES: Constantine as Charging Horseman (RIC
6 Aquileia, 111). Classical Numismatic Group, Inc. (http://www.cngcoins.com)
Figure 4.2 Constantius ΙΙ, FEL ΤΕΜΡ REPARATIO: The Happiness ofthe Times Restored (RIC 8,
106). Classical Numismatic Group, Inc. (http://www.cngcoins.com)
of the time to place heavy emphasis οη their military role. This is made very clear οη coinage, as
rei gn after reign emperors spear their enemies from horseback, emphasise virtus, and violently
. .
mιstreat captιves.7
The motif continued into the more settled fourth century. Numismatically, emperors
continued to ride down foes, drag defeated enemies and even, in copious issues under
Constantius ΙΙ, slay them οη foot (Fig. 4.2).8 These strikingly aggressive images began to be
phased out in the late fourth and fifth centuήes, though a statue of Marcian riding down his
enemies is described in the Greek Anthσlσgy, 9 and the motif persists into the eighth century as a
reco gnisable miniature shield device οη obverse portraits (Fig. 4.5). 10
60
Motif of Imperial Violence
Iconographic emphasis moved to scenes of calcatio colli, treading οη the neck of a defeated
enemy. This motif, which had deep Near Eastern and Hellenistic roots, became dominant οη
fifth-century coinage, and entered impeήal ceremonial.11 It seems to have been the unmartial
Honoήus who introduced it duήng the last recorded tήumph in Rome.12 Perhaps we should
not be surpήsed that an emperor so unmilitary and seemingly so overwhelmed throughout his
reign introduced a showy image of violence with ηο basis in reality, as a way of shoring up and
legitimising his authoήty.13 Arcadius's column also depicted this "traditiσn sauvage," 14 and it
became such a normal part of impeήal victory ceremonies that Cassiodorus thought the spina of
the Circus Maximus was named for the backs of captives trampled by Romans.15 Numerous
references to calcatio are preserved throughout the Byzantine peήod, though artistic depiction is
rare after the seventh century.16 It became a symbol of power, rather than a military act.
The fifth century also saw a shift away from actively campaigning emperors. After
Theodosius Ι, eastern emperors largely stayed in and around Constantinople, rather than ac
companying their armies οη campaign. The change was so pronounced that the story evolved
that Theodosius had actually forbidden his sons from waging war, which Lee suggests arose
from popular anxieties about the changing impeήal role.17 The emperor's appearance οη the
field to win battles was replaced by the emperor's appearance for victory celebrations in the
Hippodrome. 18 Military elements in accession ceremonies-raising οη a shield, giving out
torcs, acclamation by the troops-faded out during the sixth century as the event moved into
Hagia Sophia, and the key role was overtaken by the church and patriarch.19 Stephenson points
to the evolution of a "new theology" of victory predicated not οη the virtus of the emperor, but
rather his piety.20 Impeήal portraiture slowly shifted from the "military, naturalistic, and un
flatteήng" to the more abstracted, idealised, static, and beatific portrait which would dominate
21
Byzantine style.
Sixth-century emperors were, in fact, expected to not lead their army in person, even those
who had had previous military careers.22 Tibeήus ΙΙ quit campaigning upon accession, and
when Mauήce wished to personally lead his troops against the Avars in 590, first the senate and
then the patriarch, and finally the empress herself pleaded with him not to do so. His sub
sequent abortive march was remembered for adverse omens.23 Ιη the Strategikon, Maurice
admits that it is not the general's role to fight, saying victory comes from divine aid and through
strategy, not from personal prowess.24
EvenJustinian Ι, famous for his western "reconquista," never went οη campaign as emperor.
Bήnging victory nevertheless remained a vital impeήal attήbute, and much Justinianic art
emphasised military themes.25 The coinage continued traditional motifs, including armoured
obverse portraits with cuirass, helmet, and often spear and shield, depicting a tiny charging
horseman.26 These obverses continued throughout the century, though civilian garb becomes
increasingly common. Οη some reverses, Justinian is depicted armoured, and οη a gold me
dallion, ήdes armed behind Victory (Fig. 4.3).27
The emperor as cavalryman thus still had force as a motif Α frontal version appears in the
Barberini ivory (Fig. 4.4).28 Most likely a portrait of Justinian, the central scene has the
mounted emperor ήding over a supplicant towards the viewer. As in most sixth-century art,
there is clear continuity with Roman imagery, coupled with new typically Byzantine elements,
like the appearance of Christ in the upper register.29 For larger-scale artworks we rely οη texts,
which preserve Justinian's equestήan statues. Procopius details one atop a column in the
Augusteum, the horse seeming to step forward towards Persia. The emperor wore archaic
heroic armour and held a globe with cross; stretching forth his right hand, he commanded the
barbaήan to stay at home.30 The other was in the Hippodrome and seems to have depicted the
emperor ήding over a captive or fallen Persian.31
61
Figure 4.3 Medallion of Justinian Ι as Soldier-Emperor (replica). Classical Nurnismatic Group, Inc.
( http://www.cngcoins.com)
Figure 4.4 Justinian οη the Barbeήni Ivory. Photo © RMN-Grand Palais (musee du Louvre)/Les freres
Chuzeville
62
Figure 4.5 Constantine IV, with Horseman Shield (DOC 2.2, 15a). © Dumbarton Oaks, Byzantine
Collection, Washington, DC
Procopius also offers us an ekphrasis of a tήumphal mosaic οη the ceiling of the Chalke
palace gate. It depicted warfare and the capture of cities, and Belisaήus returning to the emperor
in tήumph. Justinian and Theodora stood in the centre, victoήous in their "motionless majesty"
over Vandal and Gothic kings, who approach as pήsoners. 32 The central scene echoes
Belisaήus's 534 tήumph, in which Gelimer was prostrated before Justinian, but the image is
perhaps more about the universal truth of impeήal victory than the particular event. 33 Α similar
scene was stitched into Justinian's burial shroud, and Coήppus details "barbaήan phalanxes
bending their necks, slaughtered kings and subject peoples," with faces of gold and purple
blood. 34 The emperor is tήumphant in these scenes, but not a soldier. Ιη the fifth and sixth
centuήes, emperors ceased to act as soldiers, but continued to maintain a level of artistic
militaήsm, which became less intense over time.
Emperors Return to the Field

When Heraclius left Constantinople to go to war, the first emperor to do so in more than two
centuήes, it was an important symbolic act. It had taken the seventh-century cήsis-a kind of
rehash of the crisis of the third-for emperors to take a personal military role again. 35 This
peήod saw the 26-year "last great war" against Persia, followed by the first onrush of Arab
expansion, and subsequent loss of vital provinces, including E gypt's grain and Palestine's holy
places. At the same time, the recovered western exarchates shrank, and the northern borders
broke under strain from "new" barbaήan peoples. Dire signs appeared-earthquake, famine,
and plague, and in 626 Constantinople itself faced an unprecedented siege. 36 Kaegi comments
that only the third-century cήsis was analogous to the issues of the seventh. 37 The collision of
internal and external problems again necessitated both practical and ideological responses, and
Raum argues for a "reinvention" of the idea of the soldier-emperor at this crucial time. 38 The
divine origin of impeήal authority was emphasised (now of course in Chήstian terms),39 but
where third-century emperors had pushed the lasting image of themselves as waπiors and
military hard men, Byzantine rulers did not lean heavily οη this motif, even though Heraclius
63
and his successors returned to active campaigning.40 Stress was laid less οη the emperor's andreia
than οη divine help-especially from the Theotokos and military saints.41
Renewed impeήal involvement in warfare met opposition. When Heraclius travelled to the
front in 612, his general Pήscus tήed to avoid the emperor by feigning illness, and when
confronted said Heraclius should stay in the palace and delegate military matters.42 This bold
affront to impeήal power, as Raum notes, demonstrates the widespread opinion that emperors
were not supposed to go to war.43 Heraclius aimed at changing this. He forced Pήscus into holy
orders and declared to the troops that they were now the emperor's own, attempting (it seems)
to re-establish the old Roman connection between emperor and soldiery. Heraclius marched
with the army, training and haranguing them, and even enteήng battle himself This was not
"proper" behaviour for a Byzantine emperor, and even a decade later, in George of Pisidia's
panegyήcal Expeditio, debate still occurs among Heraclius's advisors as to whether he should be
44
involved.
George focuses especially οη Heraclius as a leader and intelligent commander,45 but also
depicts him as a fellow-soldier down in the dust, sweat, and blood.46 He was remembered as a
heroic warήor, "leaping forward everywhere and fighting daήngly," defeating a Persian giant,
duelling their champion Razates, and fighting alone "in superhuman fashion."47 This depiction
echoes praise of earlier soldier-emperors, and Heraclius set the stage for the return to active
campaigning, but despite this shift, the impeήal iconography actually became increasingly and
resolutely civilian.
The violent coinage of the past did not reappear. Ιη fact, the reverse: around 720, military
imagery would disappear entirely from Byzantine purses.48 Byzantine emperors used coinage as
a method of communicationjust as classical emperors had done, so the different iconographical
programme seems indicative of different pήoήties and impeήal ideals. The main artistic
movement linked to the cήses of the seventh and eighth centuries, in fact, was iconoclasm-a
fundamentally religious response, not an iconographic one.
Heraclius did issue coin types featuring an armoured portrait with either helmet or crown,
and paludamentum or shield-still in some cases showing the charging horseman.49 He also
appears armoured alongside his sons, who are usually in civilian dress.50 Some types show
Heraclius with a hand clearly οη the sword at his hip, a somewhat aggressive pose which
Lampinen suggests may have been minted in celebration of the victory in 628-629.51 After
Persia's defeat, Heraclius's coinage pήmarily focused οη his family.52 His successors were
generally depicted in civilian mode, though Constantine IV (Fig. 4.5) and Tibeήus ΠΙ did mint
coins temporaήly reviving armoured obverse portraits, including the charging horseman
shield.53 After Leo ΠΙ, military types were entirely abandoned until the mid-eleventh century.54
Emperors nonetheless continued to lead armies, though not all followed Heraclius's example
injoining the melee.55 Literary sources show that Byzantine feelings were mixed, uneasy about
the emperor's military role. Traditional and Chήstian virtues were emphasised as key to ru
lership, following Agapetus's influential book of advice, which was exclusively about these
virtues.56 War is seen as a necessary evil in defence of the Roman people in books of advice,
military manuals, and liturgies, but the idealised emperor preferred peace.57 The ninth-century
Hortatory Chapters, attήbuted to Basil Ι (r. 867-886), emphasise that victory comes from God,
and set out civilian virtues like philanthropy, justice, generosity, and chastity, holding the
emperor should be eirenopoios, a peacemaker, sentiments that would be echoed by his heirs Leo
VI (r. 886-912) and Constantine VΠ (r. 913-959).58
Popular sentiment, however, seems to have been more willing to accept soldier-emperors.
The threat posed by the Bulgars in 812 led the people of Constantinople to the tomb of
Constantine V, praying for him to return and save the city-indeed there were rumours that he
64
had in fact aήsen, something Theophanes deήdes. 59 Despite Basil's eirenic advice and the
Macedonian dynasty's maintenance of civilian imagery οη coinage, 60 Basil's Vita indicates that
impeήal iconography, ideals, and behaviour were not necessarily in alignment. The text, at
tήbuted to his grandson Constantine VII, focuses οη his excellence in civilian and religious
virtues, glossing over his wars, though it does include some martial exploits-the young Basil
outwrestles a Bulgaήan champion, outpaces the emperor's runaway horse, and defeats a dire
wolf 61 As emperor, Basil acts as sustratiotes (fellow-soldier), labouring alongside his troops (and
doing the work of three ordinary men!). 62 His primary role is as leader and inspiration, but his
reign is summed up with the Homeric tag "a good king and a strong spear-fighter (aichmetes)." 63
Images of his efforts at war were apparently put up in the palace, though the text is not explicit
64
οη the details.
Although the Empire was enteήng an expansionist phase, Basil's heirs were more strongly
65
civilian emperors, staying away fi-om war despite renewed interest in military science. However,
Constantine VII published speeches claiming a desire (never achieved) to don armour and march
as a fellow-soldier, 66 and the extremely unusual decor of Leo's baths included reliefs of battle
scenes (perhaps spolia), and a portrait of the emperor armed with a sword. 67 At least in the more
pήvate confines of the palace, military images of the emperor could be depicted. 68
Ιη public, Byzantine impeήal power continued to look very civilian, even under the stήng of
latter-tenth-century rnilitary emperors, who have been seen as a turning point in impeήal
ideology towards the martial. 69 While Romanos Lekapenos (r. 919-944), Nikephoros ΙΙ
(r. 963-969), and John Tzirniskes (r. 969-976) were all military interlopers in the Macedonian
dynasty, seizing power over under-age emperors, they do not seem to have promoted their
rnilitary personas iconographically to win legitimacy, preferting instead to play dynastic politics. 70
Nikephoros in particular positioned himself as a soldier-emperor, and is the first since 602 to be
raised οη a shield by his troops as an accession ceremony, but once inside the City, he changed
into robes and had the customary coronation in Hagia Sophia. 71 The coinage remained stήctly
civilian in appearance, with portraits weaήng the lσrσs and ceremonial robes, carrying images of
power, but ηο armour or weapons. 72 Αη unusual exception appears in the Pigeon House church
at ς:avu�in, where Tzinιiskes is depicted mounted with a spear, leading a file of rnilitary saints.
The image predates his usurpation, but although it was clearly altered in 969 to reflect his new
status, the military garb was not changed. 73 Nikephoros ΙΙ also appears, weaήng the usual lσros. As
this is a rninor church with a local donor, it is not clear there was impeήal involvement. 74
Things are different in literary sources. Authors who favour these emperors hold to a list of
impeήal virtues that elevates the military role. Both Nikephoros and Tzirniskes are praised for
enteήng battle; Leo the Deacon in particular dwells οη their physical strength and martial
prowess as marking them out as true leaders. 75 He descήbes Nikephoros as a smart and capable
disciplinaήan, but a bloodthirsty warήor, and felt Tzirniskes could handle an enemy unit
alone. 76 Skylitzes places Tzirniskes οη the front line against the Rus, and though Kaldellis finds
this an improbable tale, 77 realism is not the point-ideology is. Kazhdan, in fact, sees the pro
Nikephoros tradition as a deliberate attempt to create the image of the emperor as a noble
warήor. 78 This "new" imperial persona and rnilitary style of rulership met resistance, and these
panegyrical and literary descήptions do not find a match in official artworks. 79 Liudprand, as
visitor, had much preferred his dealings with the urbane Constantine VII, but was told by an
aggressive Byzantine official that Nikephoros was a proper basileus, tachycheir-eager for combat,
a lover of rivalry and conflict, bringing teπor and the sword to subject the nations. 80
Despite leading the aπnies and even fighting in person, emperors of the seventh to tenth
centuήes do not promote themselves as soldierly in public art or coinage. It is not clear why,
though artistic traditionalism may play a part. There was also another option: courage and
65
Figure 4. 6 Silver and Ivory Casket, Now in Troyes Cathedral. Photo © Ministere de la Culture
-Mediatheque de l'architecture et du patήmoine, Dist. RMN-Grand Palais/Guillot
military prowess could be displaced onto alternative motifs like hunting, which was recognised
as a warfare-adjacent activity.81 The depiction of impeήal enemies as wild beasts was also a
common trope in Byzantine rhetoήc.82 The probably-tenth-century ivory Troyes Casket
(Fig. 4.6), a high-status and perhaps imperial gift, depicts emperors both in adventus and as
hunters, showing the violent potential of impeήal power.83 Similar images of hunts and falconry
appear οη silver vessels.84 Biblical parallels could also be employed, especially Old Testament
figures.85 Silver plates fi-om Heraclius's reign commemorate his victory over Persia through the
life ofKing David, the grandest one being the confrontation with Goliath, which shows David
in the act of beheading the giant-clearly to be linked to Heraclius's duel with the Persian
champion.86 Emperors could thus stress military identity without being depicted as soldiers.87
By the tenth century, a canonical set of military saints (Demetήus, George, and the two
Theodores in particular) had developed, and were used to enhance impeήal military associa
tions.88 There were two basic vaήations: the saint standing fi-ontally, armed, and armoured; 89 or
the saint as a cavalryman, clearly modelled οη the old impeήal image of the charging horseman,
in some cases speaήng an enemy οη the ground (either human or more symbolic, like a
dragon).90 As well as icons, numerous lead seals depict these saints, particularly among the
Anatolian military aristocracy (Fig. 4.7).91 These images appeared already in the sixth century,
but later took οη impeήal prominence.92 Theodore Stratelates for example was especially
important to Tzimiskes, who claimed his intervention in battle.93 Demetήus and George were
particularly favoured in the tenth and eleventh centuήes. Scholarship has interpreted these
saintly warήors both in terms of the expansion of the Empire in the mid-tenth century and
the celebration of "new" impeήal qualities of armed courage and military glory, 94 as well as
"the effort of the Byzantine state to reassess its military power, which in the second half of the
eleventh century was rapidly fading." 95 Importantly, they could assert military virtue for em
perors who were apparently reticent to appear publicly as soldiers themselves-even when they
took οη the role.
66
Figure 4. 7 St Demetrius: seal of Alexios Kornnenos, Grand Domestikos (DO Seals 1.15). © Dumbarton
Oaks, Byzantine Collection, Washington, DC
Attack of the Killer Emperors

Because emperors appeaήng in military costumes are so rare, 96 surviving instances are important.
Basil ΙΙ (r. 976-1027), who would be evocatively remembered as Boulgaroktonσs, the Bulgar
slayer, finally bήngs us a visual portrayal of impeήal military identity. Basil ΙΙ campaigned in
person, and although he only rarely entered combat, he is descήbed as fighting-notably against
the rebel Bardas Phokas-sword in one hand and icon of the Theotokos in the other.97 Famously,
he not only defeated the Bulgars in batde, but blinded the survivors, leaving one eye intact per
hundred men.98 While he was a canny statesman and diplomat, Basil certainly emphasised his
military prowess and reputation as a fearsome, violent enemy.99 Psellos depicts him changing fiυm
a wastrel youth into a man of steel, thoroughly disciplined, labouήng at war; an ascetic warήor,
purging barbaήans and ruling with an iron fist.100 The Annenian histoήan Aήstakes of Lastivert
claimed even the citizens of Constantinople were fughtened to look upon him.101 His court's
focus οη military matters bordered οη anti-intellectualism, but later Byzantine authors saw him as
the greatest emperor since Heraclius.102
Basil II's well-known depiction as a soldier-emperor in the Venice Psalter (Fig. 4.8) is the
first surviving officially sponsored example in centuήes, likely showing the emperor as he
wished to be portrayed,103 and perhaps giving us a sense of the pήvate imagery used by Leo in
his bathhouse. Basil's outward militaήsm may have been a matter of legitimisation in a dynasty
lately dominated by military outsiders.104 He appears armoured in gilded lamellar, weaήng a
sword, crowned by Chήst through Gabriel, suπounded by military saints, and standing over
subjected figures. Instead of orb, sceptre, or even labarum, the archangel Michael-himself a
military figure-hands him a spear.105
67
Figure 4.8 Basil ΙΙ in the Venice Psalter (Biblioteca Marciana MS Gr.Z.17 (=421) f.IIIr). Su concessione
del Ministerio per i Beni e le Attivita Culturali-Biblioteca Nazionale Marciana. Divieto di
ήproduzione
The accompanying text explains the scene, calling Basil faithful and mighty (pistos krataios),
his crown the symbol of power (kratos), and his spear, here called rhomphaia, the weapon that
fήghtens enernies.106 The rnilitary saints around him are called his allies (symmachoi, literally
fellow-fighters), who throw enemies down at his feet.107 Though static, the emperor is clearly a
figure of war, and in fact, strongly resembles icons of standing military saints. 108
The psalter pairs the image with adventures ofΚing David, including his killing of a bear and
a lion, linkingBasil to a heroic model. Stephenson draws attention to a sirnilar image ofBasil Ι,
as a compaήson of how the impeήal presentation had shifted over the course of the century.109
Basil Ι is crowned by Gabήel too, but wears the loros and is being handed a labarum, not
weapons, by Elijah. Nelson draws a more distant compaήson to the sixth-century Barbeήni
ivory (Fig. 4.4).110 While Basil's image is much more static, in keeping with contemporary
artistic tastes, the two have essentially the same theme: one ήding forth, one still, but both
soldier-emperors toweήng over subjected figures, backed by divine support.111
Basil's epitaph is likewise emphatic about his rnilitary role:112
But Ι, Basil, born in the purple, make my tomb in the earth of the Hebdomon, and
take sabbath rest from the endless work which Ι undertook in battle, which Ι endured.
68
For ηο one saw my spear at rest, from when the Emperor of the Heavens called me to
rulership of the great Empire οη Earth, but Ι stayed vigilant my entire lifetime,
protecting the children ofNew Rome, marching manfully into the West, and to the
very limits of the East ... now, ο man, looking upon my tomb, reward it with prayers
in exchange for my campaigns.
Basil's coinage nonetheless shows only civilian imagery.113 Even after his reign, unease about
emperors at war reappears, and the next several emperors staked their legitimacy not οη
militaήsm but οη their connection to the empresses Zoe and Theodora.114 Constantine ΙΧ
Monomachos (r. 1042-1055)-ηο soldier despite his bellicose name--was praised as a
peacemaker, 115 but Psellos recognises he was unpopular in the City for not being the military
leader that the citizens of Constantinople wanted, and perhaps had come to expect.116
However, Constantine ΙΧ also minted the first coins depicting an emperor in military gear
in over 300 years. Οη gold, he wears a chlamys and holds a globe, with the hilt of a sword seen
poking up over the edge of the image. Οη silver miliaresia (Fig. 4.9), the emperor appears full
length, weaήng a crown and a scale armour, with a long cross or labarum, holding a (usually
117
sheathed) sword point down. It is not clear when exactly duήng Monomachos's reign these
were issued, but the pose suggests Basil's imagery was influential, and that part of his legacy was
to put militaήsm back at the forefront of impeήal ideas. This coin type would go οη to be
produced by subsequent emperors, indicating the renewed importance of the morif
Surpήsing as this type may have seemed, the real shock came in 1057, when Byzantine
observers were confronted by aggressive, warlike imagery οη gold coins issued by Isaak Ι
Komnenos (r. 1057-1059). Isaak initially followed Constantine IX's types, appeaήng in armour
with a crown holding a sheathed sword.118 But he went beyond this, and had himself depicted
in a "notably more aggressive" stance, with sword drawn and held over the shoulder
(Fig. 4.lOa-b).119 The coins seem to have caused a scandal for their 'Όstentatiously military
°
character."12 Contemporary reactions were cold, and Isaak was thought to be boasting that his
victoήes came through his own prowess, his own sword, not from God.121 Scholars have
likewise seen this as a significant break with the traditional impeήal image and the introduction
Figure 4.9 Miliaresion of Constantine ΙΧ, with Sword (DOC 3.2, 7a.2). Classical Numismatic Group,
Inc. (http://www.cngcoins.com)
69
(a) (b)
Figure 4.10 Isaak I's aggressive nomisma (DOC 3.2, 2.7). © Dumbarton Oaks, Byzantine Collection,
Washington, DC
Figure 4.11 Seal of Isaak 1 (DO Seals 6, 76.1). © Dumbarton Oaks, Byzantine Collection,
Washington, DC
of more self-consciously military motifs. 122 Perhaps it is better read as part of a longer, slower
re-introduction of militaήstic ideas tied to impeήal legitimacy, and appeaήng in particular
around times of crisis. But the image was not a simple recreation of old types-the emperor
now caπies a sword, not a spear, and the armour is contemporary. 123 Isaak's seals follow his
military coin types-he appears full-length with drawn sword, and in a closer view wearing
armour, and carrying sword and globe (Fig. 4.11). 124 As with the coinage, emperors had not
125
been seen like this οη seals since the seventh century.
70
Το a modem eye, Isaak's images do not seem so dramatic, especially compared to fourth
century types of emperors speaήng foes from horseback.But in the context ofByzantine art, so
focused οη the motionless figure, it is rather aggressive, and the fact that several literary sources
stop to mention a new coin type speaks to its shock value.126 Contemporary condemnation,
and the fact that his successors did not reproduce the "aggressive" types, seem to suggest that
Isaak may indeed have gone too far. However, elements of the portrayal were maintained, and
the armed and armoured emperor, holding a prominently displayed (but often sheathed) sword,
continued to be issued under Isaak's successors and became an important motif 127
Contemporary with Isaak's coins, Theophylact ofOhrid explained to his pupil, Constantine
Χ Doukas (r. 1059-1067), that military virtues and training were mandatory, that purple and
gold do not command obedience like armour does-reworking the more usual formulation
that gold was inferior to virtue. 128 Theophylact did recommend against the emperor dying like
an infantryman, but Constantine's reputation was such that hagiography could attήbute to him
flaming weapons and a fire-breathing warhorse, given to him in a dream by the Virgin.129
Emphasis οη soldier-emperors expanded in the eleventh century. Romanos IV (1068-1071)
said in silention that he was donning his helmet and marching out to face injury and death so his
people could live in peace.130 And when Attaleiates attacks Michael VII (r. 1071-1078) for
blinding and overthrowing Romanos, his anger focuses οη the insult and mistreatment of a
warήor who ήsked his life for the Empire, fighting against warlike enemies when he could have
just stayed at home--implying ηο worthy emperor would do such a thing.131 Sinιilarly,
Attaleiates praises Nikephoros 111 (r. 1078-1081) for his military prowess and noble blood.132 The
emperor as a military figure had retumed to stay, and would become ever more pronounced
under the Koπmenoi, who had been one of the major families of the Anatolian military aήs
tocracy. The ήse of these families to the ruling elite is again seen as tήggeήng the militaήsation of
the impeήal office, leading the impeήal image to acquire "a militaήsm which was almost without
precedent."133 Νο precedent in recent centuήes, though as we have seen this was not a sudden
change. The context of these developments was the increasingly shaky position of the Empire,
pressed between the Seljuks, Pechenegs, and Normans, and eventually the Crusades.
It is possible the influence of westem European martial ideals played a role in this renewed
emphasis οη warήor nobility.134 Aήstocratic games and pursuits came to be much more martial in
the eleventh and twelfth centuήes, embracing Latin jousts.135 Kazhdan believes there had been
"considerable reservations about "chivalrous" virtues" around 900, but that these virtues had
become vital two centuήes later.136 We should not put too much emphasis οη imported ideas,
however, as the emperors had centuήes of their own cultures to draw upon. Anna Koπmene, ηο
great lover of westem chivalry, portrays her father Alexios 1 (1081-1118) by adapting Homeήc
themes and language, intensifying the idea of Alexios as a heroic warήor king.137 She even uses
heroic rage (thumos) as a dήving factor behind Alexios's clashes with the crusaders.138
Alexios is still presented as a man of peace fighting just wars. God gives him victoήes, of
course, but he also fights to win them himself in the thick of battle, charging his enemies and
covered in blood.139 LikeBasil 11, he faced his foe with a sword in one hand and a holy relic in
the other.140 Indeed, at the end of the Alexiad, Tzimiskes, andBasil II are name-dropped as the
worthy soldier-emperors whose path Alexios followed.141
The Bulgar-slayer became a kind of symbol for the Koπmenian ethos: Isaak took him as a
personal model, even quoting the severe emperor's jests, 142 and Basil II appeared alongside
portraits of Alexios, John 11 (r. 1118-1143), and Manuel 1 (r. 1143-1180) in the city monastery
of St Mocius.143 Anna's brother John II echoed the themes of Basil's epitaph, boasting: "East
and West have seen me at war; 1 attacked the peoples of both continents. 1 remained only a
short while in the palace; nearly my whole life has been spent in a tent." 144 Furthermore, the
71
Komnenoi seem to have been the ones who popularised and perhaps coined his famous epithet
of Boulgaroktonos. The dynasty modelled their own titles οη it, like Alexios Persoktonos and John
Π Skythopersolethros. 145 Twelfth-century emperors thus posed not simply as victoήous, but as
slayers of barbaήans.
Kazhdan and Epstein characteήse theKomnenian ideal as a "new vision of the emperor as
the archetypal warήor."146 As we have seen, the newness is somewhat illusory, rooted in much
earlier motifs, butKomnenian panegyήc intensifies rnilitary themes, depicting soldier-emperors
who had renewed the Empire after a major crisis.147 Ιη this, they (probably unintentionally)
echo the emperors of the fourth century. The dynasty's literary production gloήfies bloodshed
and impeήal use of force, overshadowing traditional virtues, and it should be ηο surpήse that
the heroic tale of Digenes Akritas emerges in this peήod.148
Artistic production appears to have followed suit to an extent, but we are again reliant οη
ekphrasis. Alexios was posthumously depicted in palace murals tήumphing over Normans,
Pechenegs, and Turks.149 The armed figures in the church of the Panaghia Kosmosoteira,
usually interpreted as rnilitary saints, may be intended to be the emperors, or at least saints with
°
the faces of the impeήal farnily.15 Komnenian coinage does feature emperors in military dress,
but more distinctively, armoured rnilitary saints alongside robed emperors.151
This has been interpreted as a way of emphasising the imperial rnilitary persona without
ήsking the opposition that Isaak's overly aggressive coinage had faced.152 As much as the
Komnenoi echo late antique emperors, they never emulated their art or coinage. Alexios
temporaήly continued Constantine IX's type, with down-pointing sword, but began issuing
types shaήng a labarum or cross with an armed and armoured St Demetήus (Fig. 4.12).153 John
ΙΙ does likewise with St George and also depicts armed saints οη obverses.154 The specific
military saint vaήed, but these types became fairly common throughout the dynasty.155 Isaak ΙΙ
Angelos (r. 1185-1195) chose the archangel Michael in particular, and they hold a partially
drawn sword together (Fig. 4.13).156
The most outstanding example ofKomnenian militaήsm is Manuel 1, who self-consciously
took οη the roles of renovator and conqueror.157 Eustathius of Thessalonica's eulogy for him
includes stock vignettes of the soldier-emperor's endurance of hardships: an indefatigable,
daήng, well-tanned warήor, sweating for his people, labouring and taking wounds, and of
Figure 4.12 Alexios I and St Demetrius (DOC 4.1, Sa.2). Classical Numismatic Group, Inc. (http://
www.cngcoins.com)
72
Figure 4.13 Isaak II and Archangel Michael (DOC 4.1, ld.8). © Dumbarton Oaks, Byzantine Collection,
Washington, DC
Figure 4.14 Manuel I and St Theodore (DOC 4.1, 4c.4). Classical Numismatic Group, Inc. (http://
www.cngcoins.com)
course, out-perfonning his troops.158 Manuel's virtues are pήmarily military ones, and
Κinnamos tells us that the emperor waded into battle as a matter of course: "he was always
stiπed up in battle in a superhuman fashion, even beyond mere courage.159 Ιη 1151, Manuel
fought a duel against the Serbian zupan Bagin, taking a blow to the face but severing his
enemy's ann.160 The emperor's heroic violence was glorified, especially in the early years of his
reign, but he clearly kept heading into battle later.161 According to panegyήc, he could take οη
tens of thousands of barbaήans and overcome them alone, like the sun chasing away clouds.162
He could, however, be cήticised as too impetuous, getting men killed and rushing to the fray
without thinking.163
Manuel's coinage does not depart greatly from his family's types, although he adds a novelty
in that he also carήes a sword, alongside the likewise armed St Theodore (Fig. 4.14).164
Gήerson also identifies types where the emperor appears unanned but wears annour.165 For
larger artworks, we have several ekphrases of scenes featuήng Manuel.166 He had the
73
Blachernae palace covered with mosaics and paintings of his campaigns and heroic exploits, and
numerous contemporary sources mention this predilection.167 Kinnamos adds that not just the
palace but the houses of officials and nobles were expected to be decorated with images of the
emperor's achievements in war and οη the hunt.168 Some details are recorded-on one painted
gate he is depicted being invested by theTheotokos andTheodoreTiro, who ήdes to battle in
front of Manuel and guides his sword.169 Other decorations, even in monasteήes, showed his
exploits-burning down Iconium, routing enernies, fighting and captuήng Saracens despite
being wounded, and the duel with Bagin.170 Byzantine observers enjoyed the art of inter
pretation, so it is possible these scenes looked more static than they read.171 Luxury items
followed imperial tastes-a twelfth-century poet descήbes a gold bowl with Manuel chasing
down a Persian king and Turkish army as being decorated "in the usual manner."172 Α visual
language of imperial rnilitaήsm had clearly returned.
Manuel was famously interested in western noble culture and embraced the practice of
jousting. He wore gilded parade armour into battle and encouraged his men to match the finery
of their western opponents.173 Αη important ekphrasis, exarnined in depth by J ones and
Maguire, details a large artwork depicting Manuel at the jousts, charging and unseating his
opponent, a Western knight.174The scene probably depicts the joust of 1159 in Antioch, with
the knights of Reynald de Chatillon and Baldwin ΠΙ, where Choniates records Manuel top
pling two Latin knights with a single thrust of his lance.175 Ιη the ekphrasis, he carήes a shield
and bannered lance, not dissirnilar to mounted military saints, but quite unusual for an impeήal
image.176 Isaak ΙΙ would also be painted as an armed cavalryman, recorded in one ofTheodore
Balsamon's epigrams, though in quite a different context-celebrating his bloody usurpation,
carrying a drawn sword "which had severed the tyrants' heads."177 Equestήan portraits of
emperors are very rare, Isaak's naked blade even more so, an attήbute usually only for rnilitary
saints. J ust before the Fourth Crusade then, it seems we are once more in an iconographic space
that allowed actively violent emperors, like in the fourth century, albeit a more restήcted one,
far more interested in what the emperor represented than what he did.
The shock of 1204, and the near-constant state of war and cήsis of the Empire's last two
centuries meant that lateByzantine emperors needed to be military leaders.178 WhileBasil Ι had
recommended emperors be eirenσpoios (peacemakers), early fourteenth-century advice held it
was impossible to enjoy peace without the emperor being philσpσlemσs (a lover-of-war).179
Palaiologan art seems to have largely continued the twelfth century's ideas, with scenes of
victory painted in the Palace, and coinage interested in rnilitary saints.180
The portrayal of the imperial rnilitary role did not always match between literary descήp
tions, public art, and impeήal behaviour. Stay-at-home emperors in the sixth century promoted
images of themselves in armour, while rniddleByzantine emperors, beginning with Heraclius in
a period of cήsis, marched with their men and even performed heroic deeds in battle, but are
depicted in purely civilian motifs. EvenBasil, the Bulgar-Slayer, was restrained in how soldierly
he had himself depicted. Soldier-emperors still emerged, especially spuπed οη by external
military cήses, and the emperor's rnilitary role became a major part ofByzantine ideology under
the Komnenoi; however, even they never embraced the violence and militaήsm seen οη third
to fourth-century coinage. Perhaps this was simply artistic traditionalism, or perhaps the result
of the uncertainty Haldon observes between conflicting mentalities of urban administrators and
the provincial warήor aήstocracy.181 Popular artforms seem to have been somewhat more
willing to embrace rnilitary imagery, 182 but the backlash to Isaak I's coinage (Fig. 4.10a-b)
shows that it was not a simple matter of emperors being unwilling to be portrayed as
soldiers-they were unable to go beyond certain lirnits. Manuel could be a charging horseman
for a joust, but his coinage is much more sedate. One wonders how those scandalised by Isaak
74
would have felt about Constantius II's brutal small change (Fig. 4.2). Magdalino and Nelson
suggest the art reflects a change in ideology, from late antique emperors actively pursuing
victory to a more passive reception of power from οη high. 183 The fact that old images of
soldier-emperors had evolved into military saints may offer the essential link pointing to dif
ferent expectations of the emperor's role, and a different locus of victory. Ιη the 1400s, the
impeήal mint was still willing to issue coins showing a charging horseman; 184 but it was St
Demetrius now, not the emperor.
Notes
1 For example, Honoήus was expected to grow up to be a conqueror (he did not): Claud. IV Cos.
Hon. 353-74, ΠΙ Cos. Hon. 73-7; for Corippus, In Laudem Iustini, pr.49-51, 2.107-8,Justin ΙΙ was
triumphant already, during his predecessor's funeral; Averil Cameron, "Corippus' Poem onJustin ΙΙ:
Α Terminus of Antique Art?," Annali della Scuola Normale Superiore di Pisa 3.5 (1975): 129-65,
here 142-3.
2 Henry Maguire, 'Ίmages of the Court," in The Glory rifByzantium: Art and Culture rifthe Middle
Byzantine Era A.D. 843-1261, eds. H.C. Evans and W.D. Wixom (New York: Metropolitan
Museum of Art, 1997), 183-7, and "Style and Ideology in Byzantine Impeήal Art," Gesta 28.2
(1989): 222-26; Paul Magdalino and Robert Nelson, "The Emperor in Byzantine Art of the Twelfth
Century," BF 8 (1982): 123-83, here 163.
3 Philip Gήerson, Byzantine Coinage, 2nd ed. (Washington DC: DO, 1999), 23; DOC 4.1, 158; Maria
G. Parani, Reconstructing the Reality of Images: Byzantine Material Culture and Religious Iconography,
11th-15th Centuries (Brill: Leiden, 2003), 102-5, 130.
4 Frank Trombley and Shaun Tougher, "The Emperor at War: Duties and Ideals," in The Emperor in
the Byzantine World: Papers from the 47thSpring Symposium of Byzantine Studies, ed. S. Tougher
(London: Roudedge, 2019), 179-80; cf. Anthony Kaldellis, The Byzantine Republic: People and Power
in New Rome (Cambridge, ΜΑ: HUP, 2015), 58-9 who likewise tracks this pattern.
5 Translation mine. Pan.Lat. 4(10).26.1-4, also 29.3-5, 12(9).9-10. See also Origo Constantini 5.24.
6 For example, RIC 7, 11, 34-7, 356-7 (Trier), 206 (Siscia). Cf. St Constantine as a cavalryman in the
Chuldov Psalter: Leslie Brubaker, "Το Legitimize an Emperor: Constantine and Visual Authority in
rif
the Eighth and Ninth Centuries," in New Constantines: The Rhythm Imperial Renewal in Byzantium,
4thto 13th Centuries, ed. Ρ. Magdalino (Aldershot: Vaήorum, 1994), 145-9.
7 See Chήstopher W. Malone, "Violence οη Roman Imperial Coinage," ]ournal of the Numismatic
Association of Australia, 20 (2009/10): 59-65. E.g., RIC 5, 227, 233, 283-6, 817-9.
8 For example, RIC 8 106-28, 135-48 (Constantinople) et pass.; Malone, "Violence," 65-6.
9 Anthol. Graeca 9.802.
10 For example, Tiberius ΠΙ: DOC 2.2, 1-10, 14-41. Gήerson (2.1, p.74) calls this the exception to the
rule that Byzantine coins avoided warlike themes.
11 E.g.,]osh. 10.24-5. For an overview seeJean Babelon, "Le Theme Iconographique de la Violence,"
in Studies Presented to David Moore Robinson on His Seventieth Birthday, eds. G.E. Mylonas and D.
Raymond (St Louis: Washington University Press, 1951), 279-82. Cameron, "Coήppus'
Poem," 142.
12 Michael McCormick, Eternal Victory: Triumphal Rulership in Late Antiquity, Byzantium and the Early
Medieval West (Cambridge: CUP, 1986), 57-8, with discussion of the literary sources.
13 McCormick, Eternal Victory, 58-9.
14 So called by Babelon, "Theme Iconographique," 282.
15 Cassiod. Var. 3.51.
16 Grίinbart, "The Enemies of the Empire: Portrayed Image," in Α Companion to the Byzantine Culture rif
War, ca. 300-1204, ed. Υ. Stouraitis (Leiden: Bήll, 2018), 137-8.
17 Lydus, Mag. 2.11, 3.41; A.D. Lee, "The Eastern Empire: Theodosius to Arcadius," in CAH
(Cambήdge: CUP, 2007), 36.
18 Sabine MacCormack, Art and Ceremony in Late Antiquity (Berkeley: UCP, 1981), 242; McCormick,
Eternal Victory, 47.
19 The set ceremony in De Ceremoniis 1.38 only has military officers among the grandees greeting the
new emperor; for the changing ceremony, 1.91-96. Discussion in MacCormack, Art and Ceremony,
75
241-9, Aveήl Cameron, 'Ίmages ofAuthority: Elites and Icons ίη Late Sixth-Century Byzantium,"
Past & Present 84 (1979): 10-2; Gilbert Dagron, Emperor and Priest: The Imperial Office in Byzantium,
trans. J. Birrell (Cambridge: CUP, 2003), 54-61; Michael McCorrnick, 'Έmperor and Court,"
CAH, 156-60.
20 Visible ίη e.g., Soc. Hist.Eccl. 7.22; Paul Stephenson, "The Impeήal Theology of Victory," ίη Α
Companion to the Byzantine Culture of War, ca. 300-1204, ed. Υ. Stouraitis (Leiden: Brill, 23-58),
here 34.
21 MacCorrnack, Art and Ceremony, 214-5.
22 McCorrnick, 'Έmperor and Court," 145.
23 Theophylact Simocatta, History 5.16-6.3; see Theresia Raum, "The Reinvention of the Soldier
Emperor under Heraclius," ίη Trends and Turning Points: Constructing the Late Antique and Byzantine
World, eds. Μ. Kinloch and Α. MacFarlane (Leiden: Brill, 2019), 133-47, here 134.
24 Mauήce, Strategikon 2.1, 7.pr, 7.b.1; similarly, Leo, Taktika pr.6, 20.153. John Haldon, Waifare, State
and Society in the Byzantine World 565-1204 (London: Routledge, 1999), 22-3.
25 Aveήl Cameron, Procopius and the Sixth Century (London: Roudedge, 1985), 261. McCorrnick, Eternal
Victory, 9, 131; Cameron, "Coήppus' Poem," 142-3; Trombley and Tougher, 'Έmperor at War," 180-1.
26 Joseph Alchermes, 'Άrt and Architecture ίη the Age of Justinian," ίη CCAJ, ed. Μ. Maas
(Cambridge: CUP, 2006), 343-5. E.g.: DOC 1, 3-16, 37-75, 115-54, 164-201, 215-67, 273-9. Cf.
John Nesbitt, ed. Catalogue of the Byzantine Seals at Dumbarton Oaks and in the Fogg Museum of Art,
vol. 6 (Washington DC: DO, 2009), 3.1.
27 DOC 1, 21-5; Alfred R. Bellinger, "Roman and Byzantine Medallions ίη the Dumbarton Oaks
Collection," DOP 12 (1958): 154-5; Alcherrnes, "Art and Architecture," 344.
28 Babelon, "Theme Iconographique," 282, noting a similar image ofTheodosius οη Arcadius' column.
29 Cameron, "Coήppus' Poem," 130-5; Henry Maguire, "'Signs and Symbols of Your Always
Victoήous Reign:' The Political Ideology and Meaning of Falconry ίη Byzantium," ίη Images the rif
Byzantine World: Visions, Messages and Meanings: Studies Presented to Leslie Brubaker, ed.
Α. Lymberopoulou (London: Roudedge, 2011), 135-6.
30 Procop. Aed. 1.2.1-12. It was still there ίη 1453, and the message was apparently still clear enough
that Mehmet ΙΙ had it melted down for insulting the Ottomans as it once had the Persians:
Stephenson, 'Ίmperial Theology ofVictory," 23-4.
31 Anthol. Graeca 16.62-3. There is some confusion ίη scholarship over whether these are two statues or
one. The descήptions ίη Procopius and the Anthology do not match, but there are obviously si
milaήties. Stephenson, 'Ίmperial Theology ofVictory," 24 sees them as describing the same statue;
Alan Cameron, "Some Prefects Called Julian," Byzantion 47 (1977): 43-4 argues there were two;
MacCorrnack, Art and Ceremony, 307-8, ηη. 304-5 and Grίinbart, 'Έnemies," 137-8 understand
two distinct sculptures.
32 Procop. Aed. 1.10.15-20.
33 Procopius, Wars 4.9.3-12, MacCorrnack, Art and Ceremony, 74-6; cf. Cameron, Procopius, 102.
34 Coήppus, In Laudem 1.275-89.
35 See Raum, "Reinvention," 138/f for an analysis of seventh-century Byzantium as a "threatened
order."
36 Nikephoros, Breviarium, 8; George of Pisidia, Return, 21-34. Raum, "Reinvention," 137-42.
37 Walter Kaegi, Heraclius: Emperor rifByzantium (Cambήdge: CUP, 2003), 109, admitting it would
have been even more poorly understood then than now.
38 Raum, "Reinvention," 135.
39 John Haldon, Byzantium in the Seventh Century: The Transformation of α Culture (Cambήdge: CUP,
1997), 405-6.
40 Raum, "Reinvention," 143-4; Kaegi, Heraclius, 109.
41 Raum, "Reinvention," 134; Kaegi, Heraclius, 68-9.
42 Nikephoros, Breviarium, 2, probably from a contemporary chronicle; Raum, "Reinvention," 133-4,
144-5. See Kaegi, Heraclius, 69-72 for the wider political context.
43 Raum, "Reinvention," 134.
44 George of Pisidia, Expeditio Persica, 1.111-129.
45 George of Pisidia, Expeditio Persica, 2.12-205, 3.14-26, 220-4. Kaegi, Heraclius, 112-7 points out
Strategikon's influence.
46 George ofPisidia, Expeditio Persica, 2.88-9, 3.80-92; also, ίη the voices ofinspired soldiers: 3.94-128.
Cf. Theophanes, Chronicle AM, 6113-15. Raum, "Reinvention," 146.
76
47 Theophanes, Chronicle ΑΜ, 6113, 6116, 6118; Nikephoros, Breviarium, 14-5; see further sources in
Geoffrey Greatrex and Samuel Lieu, The Roman Eastern Frontier and the Persian Wars: Part ΙΙ AD 3 63-
63 Ο (London: Routledge, 2002), 207-25.
48 Gήerson, DOC 2.1, 66-7, 74.
49 DOC 2.1, 51-6, 69-75, 85-8, 97-8, 105-33, 153-7, 167-74.
50 DOC 2.1, 58-9, 105-29, 187-8, 232.
51 Peter Lampinen, 'Ά New Variety of Heraclius Follis," Numismatic Circular 109.1 (Feb. 2001): 5;
DOC 2.1, 152; c( 105-16.
52 Alfred Bellinger, "The Coins and Byzantine Impeήal Policy," Speculum 31.1 (Jan. 1956): 73.
53 Constantine: DOC 2.1, 4-15, 19-27, 29-33, 36, 37, 39-41, 43-9, 50, 52, 54, 57-9, 61, 63, 67,
69-71, 85-93; Tibeήos: DOC 2.2, 1-10, 12, 14-27, 32, 34-41, 43-6, 48. Syracuse also minted
military reverses: Constantine IV 62, 64; Justinian ΙΙ: 61-2.
54 DOC 3.1, 20, 24-8.
55 E.g., Theophanes, Chronicle ΑΜ, 6237, 6265-6, 6303-5; Photius, Homilies, 3.3.
56 Agapetus, Advice e.g., 1-3, 15-20; echoed repeatedly from emperor to heir: Theophylact Simocatta,
History, 1.1.12-20, 3.11.9. See Mark Humphreys, Law, Power, and Imperial Ideology in the Iconoclast Era
c.680-850 (Oxford: OUP, 2014), 47-54.
57 Apparent in Coήppus, In Laudem 3.330ff; Leo, Taktika pr.4; Photius, Homilies 3&4. Joseph Munitiz,
"War and Peace Reflected in Some Byzantine 'Mirrors ofPήnces'," in Peace and War in Byzantium:
Essays in Honor of George Τ. Dennis, eds. T.S. Miller and J.W. Nesbitt (Washington DC: Catholic
University of Ameήca Press, 1995), 51-60; Haldon, Waifare, State and Society, 13, 258-9. Robert
Taft, "War and Peace in the Byzantine Divine Liturgy," in Peace and War, eds. S. Miller and J.
Nesbitt (Washington, DC: The Catholic University ofAmeήca Press, 1995), 28-32.
58 See Alexander Kazhdan, "The Aristocracy and the Impeήal Ideal," in The Byzantine Aristocracy ΙΧ to
ΧΙΙΙ Centuries, ed. Μ. Angold (BAR International Seήes 221, 1984), 43 and Alexander Kazhdan and
Αηη Wharton Epstein, Change in Byzantine Culture in the Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries (Berkeley:
UCP, 1985), 110-6.
59 Theophanes, Chronicle ΑΜ, 6305 says the iconoclast emperor was surely in hell.
60 Cyril Mango, The Art rifthe Byzantine Empire 312-1453 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press,
1986), 181.
61 Vita Basilii 12-14. His early exploits are reminiscent ofthe stoήes told ofthe "first barbaήan em-
peror," Maximinus Thrax: SHA Μαχ. 2-4.
62 Vita Basilii 36-7, 40-2.
63 Vita Basilii 102.
64 Vita Basilii 89.24.
65 Eric McGeer, "Two Military Orations ofConstantine VII," in Byzantine Authors: Literary Activities
and Preoccupations. Texts and Translations dedicated to the Memory rif
Nicolas Oikonomides, ed. J.W.
Nesbitt (Leiden: Brill, 2003), 111; Trombley and Tougher, 'Έmperor at War," 180.
66 1.4, 2.1, 4-5 in McGeer, "Two Military Orations," 119-30.
67 Paul Magdalino, "The Bath of Leo the Wise and the 'Macedonian Renaissance' Revisited:
Topography," DOP 42 (1988): 97-118, here 103, 111, interprets the sword as simply a ήtual sign of
authoήty.
68 C( Robert Nelson, "Άηd So, With the Help of God': The Byzantine Art of War in the Tenth
Century," DOP 65/66 (2011/12): 176-7.
69 Haldon, Waifare, State and Society, 29-33; Athanasios Markopoulos, "Byzantine History Wήting at
the End ofthe First Millennium," in Byzantium in the Year 1000, ed. Ρ. Magdalino (Leiden: Bήll,
2002), 194-5, points to reflections ofthis in literary production.
70 For example, DOC 3.2, Romanos: 4, 7-9, Nikephoros: 1-2, 4-5; Tzimiskes: 1-2.
71 Constantine Porphyrogenitus, De Ceremoniis 1.96; Christopher Walter, "Raising οη a Shield in
Byzantine Iconography," REB 33 (1975): 159-60 notes the text does not specify he was raised on α
shield, but a lacuna follows. Ιη De Administrando 38, Constantine considers it a Khazari practice. Cf.
Kazhdan and Epstein, Byzantine Culture, 114. Dagron, Emperor and Priest, 72-4. Gήerson, DOC 4.1,
159-60 comments οη the outfits.
72 Gήerson, DOC 3.2, 574-98
73 Parani, Reconstructing, App.3 ηο.4.
74 Parani, Reconstructing, 102-6; Nicolas Oikonomides, "The Significance of Some Imperial
Monumental Portraits ofthe Χ and ΧΙ Centuries," Zogrιif 25 (1995): 25-6.
77
75 Leo the Deacon, History 5.8; c( Skylitzes, Synopsis, 14.20, 15.19. Markopoulos, "Byzantine History
Writing," 191-2; Elisabeth Rolston, "The Imperial Character: Alexius Ι and Ideal Emperorship ίη
Twelfth-Century Byzantium," Parergon 35.1 (2018): 17-35, here 21.
76 Leo the Deacon, History 3.1, 6.3.
77 Skylitzes, Synopsis, 15.15-16; Anthony Kaldellis, "The Oήginal Source for Tzimiskes' Balkan
Campaign (971 AD) and the Emperor's Classicizing Propaganda," BMGS 37.1 (2013): 40, 47-8;
Stamatina McGrath, "The Battles of Dorostolon (971): Rhetoήc and Reality," ίη Peace and War in
Byzantium, eds. Τ. Miller and J. Nesbitt (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America,
1995), 152-64.
78 Kazhdan, 'Άristocracy," 48-52, but c( Munitiz, "War and Peace," 58-60.
79 Haldon, Waιfare, State and Society, 32; Kazhdan and Epstein, Byzantine Culture, 112-3.
80 Liudprand, Embassy, 55; c( Antapodosis 6.5-9.
81 Alicia Walker, The Emperor and the World: Exotic Elements and the Imaging of Middle Byzantine Imperial
Power, Ninth to Thirteenth Centuries C.E. (Cambridge: CUP, 2012), 21-2, 51-2. Maurice, Strategikon
7.pr, 7.12, thought that hunting and warfare were parallel and even included a whole section οη it
(12.D). Constantine Manasses calls it "ironless Ares": Kazhdan and Epstein, Byzantine Culture, 244,
App.18.
82 Paul Stephenson, The Legend of Basil the Bulgar-Slayer (Cambridge: CUP, 2003), 61. Οη animal
metaphors see Τ. Schmidt, "Father and Son like Eagle and Eaglet - Concepts of Animal Species and
Human Families ίη Byzantine Court Oration (11th /12th c.)," ΒΖ 112.3 (2019): 968-84.
83 Evans and Wixom, Glory of Byzantium, 141. Stephenson, Legend, 60; Maguire, "Signs and
Symbols," 137.
84 Kazhdan and Epstein, Byzantine Culture, 115; cf. Maguire, "Signs and Symbols," 138-45.
85 Dagron, Emperor and Priest, 50.
86 Theophanes, Chronicle ΑΜ, 6116. Discussion ίη Μ.Μ. Mango, 'Ίmperial Art ίη the Seventh
Century," ίη Magdalino, New Constantines, 122-31; S.S. Alexander, 'Ήeraclius, Byzantine Impeήal
Ideology, and the David Plates," Speculum 52.2 (1977): 218, 226-34; P.L. Grotowski, Arms and
Armour of the Warrior Saints: Tradition and Innovation in Byzantine Iconography (843-1261), trans. R.
Brzezinski (Brill: Leiden, 2010), 69-70. Anthony Cutler, "The Psalter of Basil ΙΙ," Arte Veneta:
Rivista di Storia dell'Arte 30 (1976): 13-4 rejects reading them as simple allegories.
87 C( Mango 'Ίmperial Art," 124.
88 Stamatina McGrath, "Warfare as Literary Narrative," ίη Byzantine Culture of War, 175. Οη the
iconography of military saints ίη general see Chήstopher Walter, The Warrior Saints in Byzantine Art
and Tradition (London: Routledge, 2003).
89 For example, Evans and Wixom, Glory of Byzantium, nos. 36, 69, 79, 81; catalogue ίη Walter, Warrior
Saints.
90 Grίinbart, 'Έnemies," 138; Grotowski, Arms and Armour, 86-93 and fig. 8; Walter, Warrior
Saints, 124.
91 Grotowski, Arms and Armour, 92-3; Stephenson, Legend, 45.
92 Walter, Warrior Saints, 55, 118, 27(}-1; Grotowski, Arms and Armour, 61, 74-9.
93 Leo the Deacon, History, 9.9.
94 Walter, Warrior Saints, 79, 131-2, 272-5; Grotowski, Arms and Armour, 122.
95 Evans and Wixom, Glory of Byzantium, 178.
96 Gήerson, DOC 4.1, 158; Parani, Reconstructing, 102-5, 130.
97 Psellos, Chronographia, 1.15-16; Trombley and Tougher, 'Έmperor at War," 185.
98 Skylitzes, Synopsis, 16.27-35. Οη Skylitzes as a source for Basil: Catherine Holmes, Basil ΙΙ and the
Governance of Empire (Oxford: OUP, 2005), 152-70, 197-8.
99 Stephenson, Legend, 7, 33-4.
100 Psellos, Chronographia, 1.30-2; Holmes, Governance, 3-5. Trombley and Tougher, 'Έmperor at
War," 182 argue Psellos is making practical military decisions out to be ideological ones.
101 Holmes, Governance, 2.
102 Οη contemporary authors' relations with Basil: Marc Lauxterrnann, ''Byzantine Poetry and the
Paradox of Basil II's Reign," ίη Magdalino, Year 1000, 201-12; c( Barbara Crostini, "The Emperor
Basil II's Cultural Life," Byzantion 66.1 (1996): 55-80, for a more positive assessment.
103 Lauxtermann, ''Byzantine Poetry," 211-2. Iohannis Spatharakis, The Portrait in Byzantine Illuminated
Manuscripts (Leiden: Bήll, 1976), 20-6 notes the extreme rarity of impeήal portraits ίη this genre;
Trombley and Tougher, 'Έmperor at War," 182, 190; Stephenson, Legend, 49-56.
78
104 Trombley and Tougher, 'Έmperor at War," 182.

105 Stephenson, Legend, 49-56; Parani, Reconstructing, App.2 ηο.11.
106 Suda R226 confirms this could mean spear (akontion) or sword (machaira).
107 Walter, Warrior Saints, 277; Spatharakis, Portrait, 23-4.
108 Translation mine. Text: Ihor Sevcenko, "The Illuminators of the Menelogium of Basil ΙΙ," DOP 16
(1962): 272, nt. 92. Interpretations of course vary: Spatharakis, Portrait, 23; Holmes, Governance,
471-2, 527-8; Stephenson, Legend, 53. Anthony Cuder, "The Psalter of Basil ΙΙ (Part ΙΙ)," Arte
Veneta: Rivista di Storia dell'Arte 31 (1977): 9-11, sees a clear link between Basil's psalter image and
Roman statuary. Nelson, 'Άηd So,"191 argues the saints are to be understood as actual icons
around him.
109 Stephenson, Legend, 52; Parani, Reconstructing, App.2 ηο.1.
110 Nelson, 'Άηd So," 172-3.
111 Nelson, 'Άηd So," 173.
112 Text: S. Mercati, "Sull'Epitafio di Basilio ΙΙ Bulgaroctonos," Bessarione 25 (1921): 141-2. Cf.
Stephenson, Legend, 49-51; Lauxtermann, "Byzantine Poetry," 211-2.
113 Discussion in Gήerson, DOC 3.2, 602-12.
114 Stephenson, Legend, 84; Kazhdan, 'Άήstocracy,"48-9.
115 Stephenson, Legend, 85; Alexander Kazhdan, "Certain Traits of Imperial Propaganda in the
Byzantine Empire from the Eighth to the Fifteenth Centuήes," in Predication et Propagande au Moyen
Age: Islam, Byzance, Occident, eds. G. Makdisi, D. Sourdel and J. Sourdel-Thomine (Paήs: Presses
Universitaires de France, 1983), 20.
116 Psellos, Chronographia, 6.104, but cf. 6.29-34, 47. Trombley and Tougher, 'Έmperor at War,"
181-3; Kaldellis, Byzantine Republic, 58.
117 DOC 3.2, 4.a-c, 7.a-c. Gήerson (p. 736) very tentatively links this to a desire for the Virgin's
protection against rebellion in 1047, though he was hardly the first emperor to face that.
118 DOC 3.2, 1, 3.
119 So, Grierson, DOC 3.1, p.126; 3.2, 2.1-8.
120 Gήerson, DOC 3.2, 759-60; cf. Nelson, 'Άηd So," 176-7.
121 Zonaras 18.4; Attaleiates, History, 12.1; Skylitzes, Continuatus, 641, in Kazhdan, "Certain Traits," 14.
122 Kazhdan and Epstein, Change in Byzantine Culture, 115--6; Nelson, 'Άηd So," 176.
123 Ιη older Roman types, the spear was a ubiquitous symbol of authoήty: Α. Alfόldi, 'Ήasta-Summa
Imperii: The Spear as Embodiment of Sovereignty in Rome," Α]Α 36.1 (1959): 1-27. Grierson,
Byzantine Coinage, 28. The sword seems to have taken its place: Grotowski, Arms and Armour, 361;
Magdalino, "Bath of Leo," 103.
124 Nesbitt, Seals 75.1, 76.1-3; Parani, Reconstructing, 102.
125 Nesbitt, Seals, 23.1-7, 24.1.
126 Maguire, 'Ίmages of Court," 186.
127 For example, DOC 3.2, Michael VII: 7, Nikephoros ΠΙ: 7, 4.1, Alexios Ι: 10; Parani, Reconstructing,
App.2, ηο.18.
128 Kazhdan, "Certain Traits," 20-1; Paul Magdalino, The Empire of Manuel Ι Komnenos, 1143-1180
(Cambήdge: CUP, 1993), 416-9.
129 McGrath, "Warfare as Literary Narrative," 170-4.
130 Psellos, Or. Min., 4-6, quoted in Kaldellis, Byzantine Republic, 58.
131 Attaleiates, History, 21.10; Kaldellis, Byzantine Republic, 58.
132 For example, Attaleiates, History, 23.4, 35.11; Kazhdan, 'Άristocracy," 45-7.
133 So Magdalino, Empire of Manuel, 418; Savvas Kyriakidis, Waιfare in Late Byzantium 1204-1453
(Leiden: Brill, 2011), 15.
134 Kazhdan and Epstein, Byzantine Culture, 104-9; rejected by Magdalino, Empire of Manuel, 420-1.
135 Kazhdan and Epstein, Byzantine Culture, 109-10, 117-9.
136 Kazhdan, 'Άristocracy, "46-52.
137 rif rif
Larisa Vilimonovic, Structure and Features Anna Komnene's Alexiad: Emergence α Personal History
(Amsterdam: AUP, 2019), 97.
138 For example, Anna Komnene, Alexiad, 7.3.1, 12.9.7. See Vilimonovic, Structure and Features, 94-6.
139 Anna Komnene, Alexiad, 4.6-7; 55.71; Angeliki Laiou, 'ΌnJust War in Byzantium," in Byzantine
Waιfare, ed. J. Haldon (London: Routledge, 2016), 26; Rolston, 'Ίmpeήal Character," 25-6;
Vilimonovic, Structure and Features, 90-2.
140 Anna Komnene, Alexiad, 7.3.9; Trombley and Tougher, 'Έmperor at War," 188.
79
141 Anna Komnene, Alexiad, 15.10, Vilimonovic, Structure and Features, 102-3.
142 See Lynda Garland, "Basil ΙΙ as Humoήst," Byzantion 69.2 (1999): 321-43; Paul Stephenson,
'Ίmages of the Bulgar-slayer: Three Art Histoήcal Notes," BMGS 25 (2001): 63-8.
143 Mango, Art, 226.
144 Choniates, Historia 42; Laiou, 'ΌnJust War," 18.
145 Stephenson, Legend, 87-90; Grίinbart, 'Έnemies ofEmpire," 140.
146 Kazhdan and Epstein, Byzantine Culture, 11Ο; cf. Stephenson, Legend, 86-8.
147 Magdalino, Empire of Manuel, 418-21.
148 See Magdalino, Empire of Manuel, 419-24; Haldon, Waιfare, State and Society, 31.
149 Magdalino and Nelson, 'Έmperor ίη Byzantine Art," ηο. ΙΙ, 126-7; Grίinbart, 'Έnemies of
Empire," 140.
150 Charalambos Bakirtzis, "Warήor Saints or Portraits of Members of the Family of Alexios Ι
Komnenos?," British School at Athens Studies 8 (2001): 85-7.
151 Kazhdan, "Aristocracy," 50-1.
152 Kazhdan and Epstein, Byzantine Culture, 4.1 4-5, 10, 37.
154 DOC 4.1, 8, 17.
155 For example, DOC 4.1 Andronikos 7; Isaak of Cyprus 2, 8; Alexios ΠΙ 5, 7-8.
156 DOC 4.1 1-2, 5.
157 Magdalino and Nelson, 'Έmperor ίη Byzantine Art," 172-3.
158 See Kazhdan, "Certain Traits,"21; also ίη e.g., Choniates, Historia 206; Κinnamos, Epitome 3.9.
159 Κinnarnos, Epitome, 3.8.
160 Choniates, Historia, 92. Κinnarnos, Epitome, 3.9 gives the story much more drama: Manuel swoops ίη
to save the day and hacks his way through to Bagin.
161 Magdalino, Empire of Manuel, 441-50, 458.
162 Euthymios Malakes quoted ίη Magdalino, Empire of Manuel, 467.
163 For exarnple, Choniates, Historia, 110, Κinnamos Epitome 2.7; LynnJones and Henry Maguire, 'Ά
Description of the Jousts of Manuel Ι Komnenos," BMGS 26 (2002): 104-48, here 135 see this as
harkening back to Alexander.
164 DOC 4.1, 4 (armed type); 8, 18, 23.
165 DOC 4.1, 21, 24, admitting they are uncertain.
166 See ίη Mango, Art, 224-8; Magdalino, Empire of Manuel, 470-7.
167 Choniates, Historia, 206; Kazhdan and Epstein, Byzantine Culture, App.19-20, 245. See also Jones
and Maguire, "Descήption of the Jousts," 118-21.
168 Κinnarnos, Epitome, 6.6; Mango, Art, 225; Maguire, "Signs and Symbols," 137.
169 Mango, Art, 225-6.
170 Mango, Art, 227-8.
171 Maguire, "Style and Ideology," 217-20.
173 Κinnarnos, Epitome, 3.9, 3.16; Choniates, Historia, 109-10; Parani, Reconstructing, 103.
174 See Jones and Maguire, "Descήption of theJousts,"104-48.
175 Choniates, Historia, 109-10; Jones and Maguire, "Descήption of the Jousts," 105-10.
176 Jones and Maguire, "Description of the Jousts," 122-4.
177 Magdalino and Nelson, 'Έmperor ίη Byzantine Art," ηο. XVI, 154-9; Nelson, 'Άηd So," 177.
178 Efstratia Synkellou, "Reflections οη Byzantine 'War Ideology' ίη Late Byzantium," ίη Byzantine War
Ideology Between Roman Imperial Concept and Christian Religion, eds.J. Koder and Ι. Stouraitis (Vienna:
Verlag der Osterreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2012), 104-7; Κyriakidis, Waιfare in Late
Byzantium, 13-4, 3(}-2.
179 Kyniakidis, Waιfare in Late Byzantium, 15, citing Thomas Magistros PG 145 col.457.
181 Haldon, Waιfare, State and Society, 31-3.
182 Anthony Cutler, 'Όη Byzantine Boxes," Journal of the Walters Art Gallery, 42/43 (1984/
1985): 32-47.
183 Magdalino and Nelson, 'Έmperors ίη Byzantine Art," 158-9.
184 DOC 5, 1298-1300, 1311-5, 1601.
80
5
IMPERIAL IDENTITY:
ΒΥΖΑΝΤΙΝΕ SILKS, ART,
AUTOCRACY,THEOCRACY,AND
ΤΗΕ IMAGE OF BASILEIA
Anna Muthesius
Much has been written around Rornan identity in relation to the Byzantine state, whether as
"collective identity," pre-rnodern "Nation-state," or deconstructed "rnulti-ethnic Rornan
Ernpire."1 There has been sorne recent opposition to such views. For exarnple, Meredith
Riedel disagrees with such views and suggests that neither definition of Byzantine identity
favoured by scholars like Stouraitis and Kaldellis applies (neither Constantinopolitan solid
Rornan cornrnunity in both a religious and political sense, "Chosen people and Rornanness,"
nor Rornan nation-state or republic as opposed to Ernpire). Riedel proposes instead that
Byzantines saw thernselves as the "Children of God," who were chosen to supersede the J ewish
people, to be baptised Christians and to becorne rnore like God.2 More recendy, Maήca Cassis
has suggested that the archaeological evidence points towards Byzantine identity as "shifting and
vague" in terrns of geography and culture. Using a rnicro-histoήcal approach after Magnusson,3
she observes that Byzantine archaeological sites in Anatolia, should be viewed as individual
places with local naπatives. Even neighbouήng sites retain their individuality and local char
acteήstics. Α rnicro-historical approach rather than grand naπative, is needed "to deconstruct
colonial and oήentalist legacies" and will prevent the creation of "false naπatives" she argues.4
All of these scholars cited above rnake sorne valid points. Υet, rnost of these debates concerning
identity in Byzantiurn have centred upon selected largely histoήographical and panegyήc texts
in the face of the poverty of actual texts οη Byzantine political theory. Less focus has been
placed upon non-verbal evidence such as pictorial sources or artistic artefacts in the context of
their use within Byzantine rnateήal culture and οη the developrnent of syrnbolic cerernonial
and ήtual practices, as reflectors of Byzantine irnpeήal identity. Many identities can be docu
rnented side by side, based οη the evidence of different types of sources (irnpeήal, rnonastic,
individual gendered, cultural, popular, etc.). The rnore these different types of sources are
included as crucial to the evidence suπounding the forrnation of political theory, the rnore
cornplex the issue of the overall identity of the Byzantines becornes.5 Hence, this cuπent
chapter is concerned with rnaking Byzantine irnperial identity visible via the interrnediary of
artefacts and practices, frorn the fourth to the fifteenth centuήes.6 The pήrnary non-verbal
evidence of surviving silks is considered alongside that of docurnented silks and of wήtten
sources detailing contexts and aspects of their use.7 1 expand upon this debate to consider
DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-6 81
Anna Muthesius
τ
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- im age conveyed
to the prototype.
, Sy mbolic l m agery
· l mperial im age IMPERIAL Art, Autocracy, IMPERIAL COURΓ • Expresslon of
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e mbedded Ιn ΙΜΑGΕ auto- Theocracy AS REFLECTION sovereign as
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erial ideology eχ ---ι- _ _ concept of 'divin
ugh precious cloth wlthln l m perial Eartly court as reflection of dlvne
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f i m age to autocracy and plan de m onstrated throu
Role of art to'teach'
onial as
ct order:
e)
ΤΥ
Copyright Anna Muthesius 2020.
Design Ρ.Μ. Ball.
Figure 5. 1 Byzantine Silks, Diagram by Anna Muthesius
personalised responses to non-verbal sensory communications of the identity of impeήal rulers,

based οη enactment of their public image and to visual representations and symbolic re
presentation of their traditional attήbutes of power, authoήty, piety, justice, and wisdom.8
What visual images were being communicated by Byzantine silks within Byzantium and be
yond, and how did these relate to concepts of good order, sound governance, pious rule, and to
the communication ofByzantine impeήal identity at home and abroad? This chapter will argue
that between the fourth and the fifteenth centuries Byzantine silks were key economic assets
substantially exploited to inform political theory and to bolster impeήal identity9 (Fig. 5.1).
Church and State: Relation of Autocracy to Theocracy

Αη examination of the changing balance of power between Church and State duήng the peήod
is central to an understanding of the role of Byzantine silks in formulisation of images of
82
Imperial Identity
impeήal identity. Up to the thirteenth century, a Byzantine "elitist" concept of ruler as divinely
ordained autocrat predominated: the ruler at once as sovereign and pήest (basileus and hiereus). 10
Ιη effect this allowed for an unwήtten form of theocracy to justify imperial autocracy in the
peήod up to the fall of Constantinople to the Latins in 1204.11 Ιη impeήal art this was visually
expressed in images of the ruler being crowned or receiving blessings from Chήst.12 From the
thirteenth century onwards, first with the loss of the Capital, and then with further terήtoήal
losses and local stήfe, the ruler's role as direct intermediary between God and his people had
come under question. By the fifteenth century, Symeon ofThessaloniki described the Patriarch
as one consecrated in the Holy Spiήt in the tradition of aposdes and the prophets, but the
emperor as one rendered "holy" only through the unction of the Myron, that is through the
anointment as carήed out by the Patήarch. 13 Α new iconographical image was devised between
the thirteenth and the fourteenth centuήes and this was embroidered upon liturgical vestments.
Chήst appeared vested as Patήarch and this image symbolised that it was the role of the Church
rather than that of the sovereign to act as intermediary between God and his people.14
Symbolism of Byzantine Art

Also, of central importance to an understanding of impeήal image projection is an appreciation
of how these images were intended to be read. Here it is important to stress that Byzantine art
pήmaήly was dedicated to the teaching and the interpretation of an overall "Divine Plan."
Images were to reveal "higher theological truth."15 Art was designed to caπy the rnind towards
divine eternal truth.16 Ιη the fιfth to sixth centuries an aesthetic philosophy was developed,
which had an enduήng influence. 17 It was thought that an image of an object was impήnted
upon the soul through sensory visual transrnission but that the rnind added the possibility of
intellectual contemplation of the images viewed. Intellectual contemplation of the images, in
turn led towards an understanding of the non-mateήal "beauty" of God, which uplifted the
soul.The intellectual image held in the rnind still was referential to what had been seen through
the senses. However, beyond that it was believed that through contemplation and inter
pretation of the human imagination could be activated in a non-referential way to the oήginal
sensory image, to excite the emotions and to extract a higher spiήtual wisdom about God.
This form of aesthetic response was evoked οη silks, for example, in the addition of weeping
angels to the scene of Chήst's entombment οη the fourteenth-century embroidered
Thessaloniki epitaphiσs. 18 Ιη this manner, Byzantine aesthetic "contemplation" was thought to
have the power to impinge οη the bodily senses, the intellect, and the soul, in order to move
the viewer from a physical perception of the artistic image towards an intellectual and emotional
appreciation of the non-mateήal beauty of the divine.This form of aesthetic contemplation was
relevant too, in the context of artistic ceremonial and ritual display, within which were featured
many lavishly decorated silk textiles.19 It was not only the mateήal objects but also con
templation and interpretation of the practices suπounding their use that could spark off the
same emotive responses. Ιη this aesthetic system, the beauty of God made manifest in the
intellect was linked to a vision of mateήal objects and images, to ceremonial and ήtual display,
and to aesthetic appreciation of the divine revelation. This aesthetic operated across both
Church and State. Central to expressions of the emperor's identity were ceremonial and ήtual
display in Byzantium, in which the person of the emperor, as secular and as spiritual being;
impeήal state and church and public space arena settings of these practices and the use of
magnificent and precious textiles, all featured in equal measure.20
Already in the fourth century, textiles had been descήbed as vehicles for the communication
of God's truth and weavers had been seen as intermediaήes through the Grace of God, by
83
Anna Muthesius
Theodoret of Cyrrus and precious silk textiles were of great importance for the creation of a
distinctive imperial image.21 From this peήod stemmed the great emphasis that was placed upon
the establishment of impeήal silk weaving and gold embroidery workshops in Constantinople
and the state production of certain categoήes of purple silks, gold embroideήes, and tailored
ceremonial costumes, reserved for impeήal use and designed to distinguish the ruler from the
ruled. Of greatest significance for the display of such impeήal silks was Justinian's Church of
Hagia Sophia in Constantinople.22 The visual expeήence of the Great Church provided an
avenue for the recognition of the Divine through the visible shape of the light, which flooded
the building. The physical light was a metaphor for the invisible light of God: through analogy
with the light, the immanence and transcendence of God, who dwelled in the Great Church of
the Holy Wisdom, could be visualised.23 Visual perception of the light, and of the effects upon
the marble revetments and the non-figural mosaics of the Great Church, were linked to the
spiήtual contemplation of the non-mateήal beauty of God and the acquisition of spiήtual
wisdom.24 This was expressed in the contemporary Byzantine written descήption of Hagia
Sophia by Procopius and by Paul the Silentiary, as well as in the hymn wήtten for the in
auguration of the Great Church. It followed that Emperor Justinian would be viewed as an
agent of God the Divine Wisdom, for in building the Church the Emperor had rendered God
intelligible.25 Although there were ηο figural images amongst the sixth-century mosaics of the
Great Church, οη the altar the emperor placed a silk cloth upon which were depicted the deeds
of Chήst, bordered by images of his own victorious deeds as pious Chήstian Emperor.26 From
the fifth century οη, Byzantine rulers forged a close relationship with Christian cults, such as the
cult of the Virgin, and this allowed for the transfer to a Christian milieu of impeήal civic
ceremony.27 Many Chήstian relics were brought to Constantinople and civic officials such as
the Prefect took οη religious duties including the reception of the Christian relics. Some cloth
relics, such as the mantle, the shroud, and the girdle of the Virgin, acted as "supernatural
defenders" of Constantinople and these could be paraded around the Capital to fend off foreign
attack. Such practices drew attention to divine sanction of impeήal political authoήty and
strengthened the bond between autocracy and theocracy as part of understated Byzantine
political theory.28
Imρerial Identity: Idealised Imρerial Public image

The public image of the emperor was integrally tied up with Byzantine identity, and with the
visualisation and projection of a "public persona" of God's chosen ruler. Το distinguish the
impeήal rulers from their subjects, an idealised image of the ruler was projected. The emperors
"born in the purple" in the Palace and as heirs of rulers had a natural ήght to rule and by the
tenth century their unction in Hagia Sophia symbolised their divine legitimacy to the Byzantine
crown.29 Those rulers "not born in the purple" nevertheless, could claim legitimacy by the fact
that they were divinely chosen to rule. The ruler whether by virtue of hereditary descent or
not, as one divinely sanctioned, had to possess an idealised character. The ruler's physique
needed to reflect God-given perfection and his mind was required to exude wisdom, virtue,
justice, truth, and charity. This was clearly depicted in wήtten and visual sources.30 lmpeήal
portraits were accompanied by images of the virtues, which the rulers were meant to embody.31
The necessaήly impeccable behaviour of the idealised ruler was set alongside the visual display
of the imperial regalia, to symbolise both their mateήal and their spiήtual power. The ideal
ruler, dressed in magnificent silk and gold costume, had to act with decorum and modesty, to
speak plainly, and to set a good example of behaviour throughout.32
84
Imperial Identity
Figure 5.2 Chήst crowning John ΙΙ Komnenos (d. 1143) with his son Alexios and personifications of
Mercy andJustice. Rome, Vatican Ms. Urb. Gr. 2, f.20. Twelfth century, Constantinople
Ιη literature, as οη silks, symbols and images were evoked as the embodiment of desirable
characteήstics of idealised rulers. Two such motifs were the Byzantine impeήal gήffin and
eagle.33 Ιη an ekphrasis upon ajoust perhaps of the peήod ofManuel Ι Comnenos (1143-1180),
is vividly descήbed how 'Άround the shoulders" of the jousting Emperor, "in a red circle,
gήffins spread their wings in different directions." Of the gήffins the wήter relates, "these were
golden and adomed with many pearls, imitating altogether by the circles, by the wings and by
the colour, that the emperor is οη high and elevated: and [that] thundeήng, as it were, from
heaven, he performs great and wonderful deeds."34 Special significance also is assigned to the
colour and design motif of the emperor's shoes. The wήter recounts, 'Όη his red shoes the
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Anna Muthesius
emperor had white, pearled eagles, so that through the whiteness of the pearls and the high
flying of the birds, the total elevation of the emperor might be depicted, for the emperor is
spodess like a pearl and high flying like the eagles. " 35 From survivingByzantine silks such as the
tenth-century Auxerre andBrixen eagle silks, and the contemporary Sitten griffin silk, as well as
from a griffin silk with gold from Sens Cathedral, a clear impression can be gained of what such
fabήcs looked like. The creator (s) dyed the Sitten griffin silk with imperial murex purple as in
part is the Auxeπe eagle silk, so that both silks quite probably oήginally served as Byzantine
impeήal court fabήcs.36 Α great deal of symbolism was embodied in the use of such motifs, and
the eagle motif, in particular, was associated with noble birth.37 Manuel Philes in describing
EmperorJohn VI Catacouzenos (r. 1347-1354) noted that: "Drawing his golden ancestry from
eagles there is ηο way he is going to be a jackdaw and as an unfailing touchstone of this he is
able to look upon the impeήal light directly and carήes nothing in his blood, which is
38
adulterated, mixed or diluted." This bi-partite metaphoήcal reference to noble ancestry and
to direct access to divine revelation also reflects the ideas of Palamas and suggests impeήal
support for his Hesychast theology.39
Relationship of Imperial Byzantine Image to the Concept of BASILEA

(Byzantine Monarchy)
Through development of symbolic imagery displayed within ceremonial and ήtual practices the
ruler could project a "public image," which reflected the attributes considered proper to
°
lmpeήal monarchy (Basilea). 4 Constantine, Theodosius, andJustinian had built up an ideology
of absolute autocratic monarchy, but later emphasis was placed οη divine kingship within a
theological context, and the Byzantine State functioned as autocracy upheld through theoc
racy.41 Magdalino indeed, suggested that political thought was embedded in political perfor
mance as actions, contexts, and representations of political perfoπners, which have come down
to us in the fοπη of images and ήtuals as well as in words.42
Ιη relation to these ideas, it is possible to consider an earlier type of Byzantine silk pro
duction, which reflects the projection of an autocratic image of Basilea, and is known from
surviving silks with imperial Byzantine monograms, such as an example with the monogram of
the emperor Heraclius.43 At the same time Heraclius, as Basileus and successor of the Kings of
Israel and of Persia, was celebrated as the emperor, who restored the stolen relic of the True
cross to Constantinople in 629, the action of an autocratic ruler of a theocratic state.44 Το the
peήod from the fourth to seventh centuήes in addition, belongs the establishment of the
centralised lmperial silk industry in Constantinople and the production of certain murex
purple-dyed and gold-embroidered silks, intended for the exclusive use of the lmperial house,
through use of which the figu re of the emperor as autocratic ruler became visually distinct from
the image of those whom he ruled.45 Simultaneously, elements of the "autocratic image" of
Basilea were upheld by "projected images" of theocracy, which one may recognise in growing
lmpeήal Chήstian artistic patronage, donation of Chήstian relics to places of worship, and
association with Christian reliquary cults.46 Ιη teπns ofByzantine silks, the altar cloth presented
by Justinian to Hagia Sophia with the deeds of Chήst paralleled with images of the deeds of
Justinian one may argue, embodied the concept of autocracy upheld by theocracy, the emperor
as Chήstian ruler as well as a believer in and servant of God.47
Α concept of a perpetual Chήstian "Messianic Κingdom" in place of the idea of a succession of
secular rulers was developed. Magdalino suggested that this concept arose out of the Justinianic
concept of the "philosopher king of a mixed constitution" subsequendy tempered by the Islarnic
invasions of the seventh century.48 However, the theocratic aspect of Basilea one may argue, was not
86
Imperial Identity
dirnirushed. For instance, οη later silks with portraits of Ernperors haloes appeared as a syrnbohc
visualisation of their divine sanction. Two exarnples of silks are known with ernperors bearing haloes,
one of the eighth to ninth century in the Victoήa and Albert Museurn and the other of the tenth to
eleventh centuήes, in the church of St. Ulήch and St. Afi-a in Augsburg. 49
Pubhc cornrnunication of both the secular and the spiήtual authoήty of Byzantine rnonarchy was
highhghted οη a rnultitude of docurnented occasions in which silk was featured. This was particularly
true of the peήod of the Macedonian dynasty, at which tirne the pubhc irnage of the ernperors was
under scrutiny. 50 Many exarnples of pubhc cornrnunication of secular and of spiήtual aspects of
Basilea as reflected through pubhc display and enactrnent of good governrnent were recorded over
51
that peήod. These aspects have been surnrnaήsed elsewhere in chart forrn. Pubhc display took two
forrns, one to ernphasise the autocratic elernents of Basilea (non-transcendental) and the other to
ernphasise the theocratic nature (transcendental) of Byzanήne monarchy. The forrner made use of
Irnpeήal topography and civic space was accornpanied by the use of silk ceremonial robes and
Irnpeήal inscήbed silks, special ήtes and rhetoήcal conventions and syrnbohc acts, as part of diplo
matic relations, military ήtuals, celebration of secular feasts, and distribution of irnpeήal offices to
promote the stability of the State. The other forrn of pubhc display which involved Byzanήne silks
encornpassed hturgical re-enactrnent, worship at churches beyond the Palace, acts of devotion and
rehgious patronage, and promotion of Chήstian cults together with the peήodic presentation of the
ernperor as both ruler and pήest. 52
The three sources of Basilea and of a largely non-verbal political theory Magdahno identi
fied with:
1. Hellenic (divine kingship, philosophical, and rhetoήcal tools for expression of irnpeήal
qualities)
11. Rornan (institutions, systems, election of and title of Roman Ernperor, Rornan rnilitary
irnpeήal ruler cults and Constantinople as New Rorne) and
111. Judeo-Chήstian heritage (Bibhcal rnonarchy, succession of Ernpires prefi gu ήng the
Rornan Ernperors and King as builder of Ideal Kingdorn, Constantinopolitan court as
irnitation of Κingdom of Heaven). 53
Significantly, all three histoήcal elements are reflected within iconography upon surviving Byzantine
silks of different peήods, as also across the history of Byzanήne silk weaving. For exarnple, Hellenic
design elernents include the use of puti, Nile Gods, personifications of cities, Hercules and the hon,
Pegasus and Hellenic/Rornan striding hon rnotifs. 54 Rornan ruler cults are distantly referenced in the
inclusion of a Mithraic bull sacήfice rnotif (as a rernnant of pagan Rornan military cults), or of
depictions of ernperors as sun Gods, οη silks in Maastήcht and Brussels, respectively. 55 Judeo
Chήstian iconography οη silks is found for instance, in the depiction of bibhcal subjects such as
Daniel in the Lion's den, Ehjah and the raven, or in episodes fi:-orn the hfe ofJoseph and his brothers
οη earher Byzantine silks, or οη later Byzantine monastic silks with syrnbohc iconography referencing
the Holy Wisdorn. 56 Beyond this, the silks reflect the contacts forged through diplornatic dealings
between cultures East and West, an aspect not considered by Magdalino, which indicate that
Byzanήne identity also has to be viewed across an international stage. 57
The Church Councils too had a bearing in the forging of impeήal irnagery. For exarnple, the
concept of Syrnbasileia (co-regency of Chήst and theErnperor) Magdalino attributed to the time of
the SixthEcumenical Council (68ο-681). The Quinisext Council (691---692) he suggested presented
an irnage ofErnperor Justinian ΙΙ as " Chήst the Good Shepherd" occupied with the salvation of his
flock, and as being fιlled with the Holy Spiήt through Chήst the Divine Wisdom.58 Οη the two
faces of coins ofErnperor Justinian ΙΙ, the image of Chήst "Κing ofΚings" appeared οη the obverse
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Anna Muthesius
and an irnage of the emperor as "Servant of Chήst" appeared οη the reverse. This irnage of "co
sovereignty" he argued acted as the basis ofByzanήne irnpeήal legitirnisation. Ιη the sarne way, the
irnage of Chήst direcdy above where the emperor would have been seated, symbohsed worldly
monarchical power and filled the apse of the irnpeήal palace's throne room. 59
Figure 5.3 Christ crowning Constantine VII Porphyrogennetos (d. 959). Pushkin Museum, Moscow.
Mid tenth century, Byzantine
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Imperial Identity
Οη a tenth-centuryByzantine ivory carving (Fig. 5.6), Chήst appears crowning Constantine

VII under the tide of "in God [faithful], autokratδr and basileus of the Romans."
Nonetheless, οη Byzantine silks, the emperor could be depicted under many different
guises. Οη a tenth to eleventh-century Byzantine, large silk tapestry from Bamberg an
Emperor in splendid imperial ceremonial dress is shown being crowned by two Hellenistic
female personifications of cities. Αη eighth-century imperial Byzantine silk from Mozac
depicts the emperor in ceremonial dress as a lion hunter. 60 This variation of imperial images
οη the silks suggests that differing historical contexts existed at the times of production and
moreover that the silks were destined for different uses. The idealised images of Byzantine
monarchy utilised οη Byzantine silks were indeed many sided.
Importandy, Magdalino also illustrates how the concept of Basilea and its visualisation does
not remain static but that it is adapted to fit different peήods ofByzantium's history. Under the
Figure 5.4 Silk tapestry shroud ofBishop Gunther ofBamberg (d.1065). Bamberg Cathedral treasury.
Eleventh century, Constantinople?
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Anna Muthesius
Isauήans (717) at the time of the failed Arab siege of717-718 Leo ΠΙ and his sonConstantine V
used the cross as a symbol of victory to repel the foe and not the image of Christ. During
Iconoclasm when the cross also featured rather than figural imagery, with the revised Roman
law (Ecσloga), the impeήal person was portrayed as law giver and as exerciser ofJustice, and law
as the gift of God to mankind. Justice dispensed ensured a peaceful and stable realm. Impeήal
piety lay behind legal reform οη Chήstian lines although the legal system itself still was based
upon the secular Roman constitution. Duήng IconoclasmConstantine V advocated the use of
secular imagery, circus games, palace festivals, and public victory parades, like his predecessor
Constantine the Great. 61 His image was not based upon the Old Testament Κings. From the
surviving Byzantine silks, it is clear that their subject matter too was subject to change over
different peήods of their production to reflect contemporary contexts not least during
Iconoclasm. Byzantine silks which may be dated to the peήod of Iconoclasm οη technical and
iconographical grounds and using contextual evidence, clearly reflect the an-iconic regu lations
of the peήod. Hunter and charioteer themes advocated byEmperorConstantine V were widely
used οηByzantine silks such as the charioteer silk at Aachen and the Hunter silks, which survive
in church treasuries in Cologne, in the Vatican in Rome, at Gandershim, and elsewhere. 62
Post Iconoclasm ( circa 860-995), Magdalino pointed to the profusion of idealised impeήal
imagery, the revival of classical learning and the consolidation of the Tήumph of Orthodoxy. 63
Ιη terms of silk production and the return to images, the Vatican Annunciation and Nativity silk
illustrate the type of fine silk weaving withChristian figural iconography that was produced in
Byzantium. 64 Duήng the peήod of first Iconoclasm the production ofChήstian subject matter
οη silks did not cease as witnessed by the descήption of hundreds of such silks donated to
churches of Rome by the Papacy. 65 However, where these silks were produced remains a
matter of conjecture still. Were Byzantine weavers at work under Muslim overlords in Syήa
perhaps?
As mentioned above, there was a need under the Macedonian dynasty to legitimise their rule
and this was partly achieved through the development of an image of the ideal ruler. Patήarch
Photius defined the ideal monarch in his writings. 66 Leo VI in his Homilies and Law Books
reflected both his autocratic authoήty and his divine Wisdom. 67 This he did through emphasis
of his own role as preacher and celebrant and his association with Solomon, son of David, and
his restorative works across law, the army, and Palace ceremonial. 68 Leo VI was designated as
law giver and not as law supervisor, Magdalino points out. 69 It was Leo VI also, who allowed
his subjects to wear small pieces of impeήal purple silk. 70 Most recently Riedel through
theological analysis of the Taktika demonstrated how far Leo VI had sought to emphasise
ByzantineChήstian impeήal identity as an essential element ofByzantine monarchy. It was Leo
who promulgated theEdict of the Prefect regu lating the gu ilds of theCapital, including the five
silk guilds, and this pioneeήng document too, reflected the Chήstian moral stance of the
emperor directed towards his subjects. 71
Constantine VII used histoήography for political propaganda and to present Basil Ι his
grandfather as an ideal emperor, with sacred and sacral responsibilities and as God's "chosen"; as
David reincarnated under the protection ofElijah. 72 Later,Basil ΙΙ was depicted in a manuscήpt
weaήng a purple silk military tunic, symbolising the sacralisation of the Impeήal military ruler's
image. 73 Constantine VII in his Book rif Ceremonies clearly presented court ceremonial as
showcase for God's perfect order. 74 Constantine VII's own image was as a ruler who defeated
the infidel under God's protection and who restored the Mandylion toConstantinople. Οη the
icon of Sinai depicting Abgar of Edessa with the mandylion, Abgar is shown with the face of
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Imperial Identity
Figure 5. 5 Κing David with personifications of Wisdom and Prophecy. Psalter, Paήs National Library,
Ms. Gr. 139. Second half tenth century, Constantinople
Constantine VII and weaήng impeήal dress.75 The Βοσk rif Ceremonies reveals not only the
importance of impeήal ceremonial and the ήtual for strengthening of the visualisation of the
secular and the spiήtual authoήty of Byzantine monarchy but also the strong role of silk cos
tume for establishment of hierarchy, order, and identity across the Byzantine court and the
projection of images of such order across to the public.76 Beyond this the perfect order em
bodied and made visible through the ceremonial and ήtual display of court costume and fur
nishings acted also as a sign of good governance, and as a reflection of the perfect order of the
heavenly court above.77
Basil II's image (see Malone Fig. 4.8), served as an idealisation of power in the eleventh to
twelfth centuήes; as image of omnicompetent and infallible ruler, but this image of Basilea was
91
Anna Muthesius
Figure 5. 6 The Shroud of Charlemagne, polychrome Byzantine silk with a pattern showing a quadriga.
Paήs, musee national du Moyen Λge. Ninth century
subject to cήticism, Magdalino argued citing Psellos as a cήtic of Constantine ΙΧ as an example.

Psellos, according to Magdalino, was informed by Constitutional Theory and it was the popular
assembly that transfeπed power to Nikephoros ΠΙ Botaneiates from Michael VII and appointed
the inteήm government around 1080. Later though, Alexios I Komnenos came to power
through force and there was a further sacralisation and militaήsation of monarchy according to
Magdalino. Anna Komnene, Alexios's daughter, saw him as the thirteenth Apostle and as
Homeric hero figu re. She defined kingship as a science and as supreme philosophy, and she
depicted the ideal ruler as scientist, as architect, and as active in royal government.78 Manuel 1
was portrayed as epistemonarches, as judge of religious matters, and as a ruler in the image and
imitation of Chήst. 79 Zonaras opposed these idealised images of Komnenoi rulers and of un
constitutional rule. Mter the fall of Constantinople in 1204, Niketas Choniates in his History
revealed the gap between Impeήal rhetoήcal image and reality and opposed the portrayal of
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Imperial Identity
Byzantine ruler as in possession of God-like attributes.80 Eusebius of Thessalonike earlier,

Magdalino indicated, took a middle road, in his characteήsation of Manuel Ι, as both theocratic
and heroic figure subject to monarchical government, and also as a ruler respectful of Aήstotle's
concepts of democracy.81 Only the Venetians successfully could marry the mixed constitution
of antiquity, monarchy, aήstocracy, and democracy, Magdalino concluded.82 These ideas may
be further explored in relation to silk production of the tenth to eleventh centuήes and here it is
important to examine the surviving silks with Impeήal inscήptions. What did these silks re
present and how far did they reflect contemporary Byzantine political theory?
Imperial Identity: Basilea and the Inscribed Imperial Byzantine Silks

Ιη an interesting study of early impeήal ruler titles and epithets (found οη Byzantine artefacts/
coins/official documents/religious Council Acts/letters from foreign rulers, of the fifth to the
thirteenth centuήes), Rosch revealed that there was not a standard chronology for introduction
or use of the titles and epithets across the different media.83 Instead, specific combinations
appeared to suit different categoήes of artefacts or documents according to their intended use.
At the same time, his research indicated where and when the earliest surviving use of the
different epithets occuπed. For example, in the context ofByzantine impeήal identity, "Basileus
of the Romans" was not usual as part of legal language until Heraclius officially adopted Greek
for that purpose, but the formula was found οη seals vaήously dating between 654 and 698.84 It
is significant to note that the combination of Basileus (monarch) and autocrator became usual
only from the time of Nicephoros ΠΙ (1078-1081)85 Α new formula appeared under Leo ΠΙ
and Constantine V (720-741), which equated to, "Ιη the name of the Father and Son and the
Holy Ghost, Leo and Constantine the devout rulers of the Romans" and was used between
742-780 but not later under Constantine and Eirene.86 Much earlier, according to
Theophylaktos Simokattes, the Turkish Chagan had used the same titular form to address the
Emperor Mauήce, as had the Sassanian Emperor Κhosrow wήting to Emperor Mauήce in 591,
although the accuracy of this information would be difficult to veήfy, he conceded.87 He
considered it unlikely that "Basileus of the Romans" would have appeared alongside 'Όf J esus
Chήst in God Basileus" on the oήginal signatures of Constantine Π or of Justinian Π οη the
sixth Ecumenical Concilar Acts.88 The same formula appeared οη a pήvilege ofJustinian Π for
the church of Thessalonike but this too, he considered might reflect a later addition as
otherwise it would stand as the only example known to date from before the tenth century.89
He also pointed out that οη the oήginal version of the Ecolσga only "rulers Leo and Constantine
[devout] monarchs" appears. He concludes that the formula "Basileus of the Romans" first
appeared only later in the ninth century.90 Ιη the context of such difficulties and without a
database and analysis of all formal Impeήal titles and epithets, it is difficult to draw further
conclusions. Nevertheless, it is important to record the evidence of surviving silks concerning
impeήal titles and epithets, alongside the other types of evidence.
Α precisely dated ImpeήalByzantine Lion silk of 921-923 bears the formula 'Έpi Romanou
kai Chήstophorou ton filochήston despoton," Under Romanos and Chήstophoros the devout
rulers."91 The same formula appears οη two other surviving impeήal Lion silks and οη a further
two documented Impeήal Lion silks, all of which most probably reached the West in con
nection with proposed marήage negotiations between Byzantine rulers and westem noble
bήdes.92 The other two surviving silks most probably date to the time of Basil Π and
Constantine VΠΙ (976-1025) whereas the dating of the two documented examples is un
certain.93 Weighing up all the dating possibilities yields a peήod of between 717 and 1025 for
the Impeήal production of such specifically inscήbed Lion silks.94 This is significant for it
93
Anna Muthesius
suggests that lmpeήal Byzantine diplomatic silks destined for foreign western rulers duήng the
peήod, consistently chose not to make any reference to "Byzantine rulers of the Romans"
possibly over more than three centuήes. The impeήal Byzantine Elephant silk from the relics of
Charlemagne (d. 814) woven in the impeήal workshop at Zeuxippos in the vicinity of the
Palace in Constantinople, probably another diplomatic gift sent to the west, and of the early
eleventh century, also made ηο reference to titular, which might offend.95 This silk had an
inscήption which read, 'Έpi Michael pήmikeήos, koitonos kai eidikou," and "Petros archontos
tou Zeuxippou, indik[tionos]," that is, 'Ίη the time of Michael, primikerios, of the koitonos and
eidikos," and "When Peter was archon of Zeuxippos, indiction ...." 96 These silks specifically
applied lmpeήal formulas appropήate to their use within a diplomatic context where a moral/
political alliance between Chήstian rulers was desirable. The gift of such prestigious silks also
held connotations of respect and acknowledgement of equal status between donor and
recipient.
The inscήbed impeήal lion silks clearly served a different purpose either to the earlier
Heraclius monogram silk descήbed above in this chapter or to another category of Byzantine
inscήbed silk produced in Egypt before the Arab invasion. Such sixth- to seventh-century silks
were concerned with the depiction of Chήstian narrative themes including Elijah and the
Raven, Joseph and his brothers, or Daniel in the lion's den and examples survive at Sens
Cathedral treasury and at the Victoήa and Albert Museum in London.97 These silks were made
for popular consumption and there was an objection from some Church Fathers to their use for
the ordinary dress.98 Naπative Chήstian scenes were woven and served as gifts to churches of
Rome from the Papacy duήng the peήod of Iconoclasm perhaps in Syήa, and the Vatican
Annunciation and Nativity silk fragments represent Byzantine production post-second
Iconoclasm as mentioned earlier.99 However, a return to woven Chήstian naπative scenes
οη Byzantine silks is not apparent later. Such scenes were embroidered rather than woven. Α
late embroidered inscήbed impeήal Byzantine silk example is found with Old Testament,
Chήstian Feast, and Chήstian saintly iconography and with the Nicene Creed in the form of
the greater Sakkos of the Metropolitan Photius of Russia.100 This bears the embroidered
portraits of the emperor John Paleologos (r. 1428-1448) and his spouse Anna and has been
dated 1414-1417. The emperor John is called the in "Chήst of God believer Basileus." Here
again, Basilea is associated with the Chήstian devotion of the ruler and with his association to
Chήst, just as previously. The inclusion of the Nicene Creed emphasises the role of the ruler in
the upholding of Orthodoxy and of the Orthodox religious ecumenical community. This
suggests a sense of continuity in the understanding of the concept of Basilea from earlier times.
Byzantine Silks, Courtly Image, and Popώar Culture

Whereas the concept of Byzantine monarchy as autocracy upheld by theocracy clearly was
promulgated in the use of Byzantine silks, this was not their only role. There also existed official
inscήbed silks, which were sent evidently to "ethnic Romans," military figures serving abroad,
such as the tablet woven, inscήbed belt wishing the bearer good fortune as he served in the
Caucasus.101 There is evidence also for the existence of popular literary referenced silks. One
silk from Aachen with multi-bodied lion motif appears directly to have reflected the popular
literary culture.102 This silk may have reflected the type of fabήc woven in Thebes and Coήnth
and worn by fashionable women οη the streets of Athens in the eleventh to twelfth centuήes.103
The democratisation of the use of silks by this peήod suggests greater demand for the com
modity existed, less lmpeήal domination of the production, use and distήbution of the fabήc,
and broader marketing. This did not mean after the loss of Constantinople to the Latins in 1204
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Imperial Identity
that lmpeήal silk manufacture and embroidery ceased. The industry quite probably was
transfeπed to Nicaea, and after the recapture of Constantinople in 1261 both lmpeήal and
public silk production are indicated. lmpeήal silk and gold embroidery of high quality was
produced perhaps within a workshop established under the emperor Andronikos 11 (r.
1282-1328).104 There does appear to have been a close relationship between the painted and
the embroidered silk images of religious subject matter under the patronage of the lmpeήal
Palaeologian emperors (1259-1453).105 Elsewhere, 1 have suggested that the Thessaloniki
epitaphios, was produced under the patronage of Andronikos, as well as the St. Clement
epitaphios.106 Similarly, the Vatican sakkos can be associated with Michael VIII Palaeologus,
107
and further embroideήes may be added to the group. These pieces demonstrate the spiήtual
revival that was enjoyed under the Patήarch Athanasios 1 (1289-1293 and 1303-1309), who
was appointed by Andronikos 11, and who was a protagonist ofHesychasm. Andronikos was the
son of Emperor Michael 111, who had agreed to the unification of the Orthodox and Latin
churches in a Union of Churches ratified at the second Council of Lyons in 1274, whilst
Byzantium faced threats from both Latins and Turks. Andronikos οη the death of his father
revoked the Union, which had forced the Orthodox Church to accept the Latin filioque
dogma, and both Andronikos and his relatives embarked upon a peήod of great patronage with
the building and renovation of churches and monasteήes of Constantinople, Thessaloniki, and
Arta.108 This Restoration of Orthodoxy reaffiπned the theocratic basis of autocracy and
strengthened once more the dual secular and spiήtual role of Byzantine monarchy. The key
characteήstic of the silk and gold embroideήes was their adherence to standard tenets of the
Orthodox doctήne expressed in standard iconography, particularly of the Feasts of the Church.
The cross in roundel was an abstract symbol, which appears to have embellished a lost standard
of the Emperor Andronikos, perhaps a legitimising symbol drawn from the time of Justinian.
Certainly, the cross in roundel is found οη the Thessalonike epitaphios, the epitaphios of
Serbian Milutin Ures, the Anastasis epigonation in the Byzantine and Early Chήstian Museum
in Athens, the Vatican Sakkos in the Treasury of St. Peter' s in Rome and combined with the
cross and tear shape outside the roundel οη the epitaphios of the Emperor John Cantacuzenos
(circa 1354) at the monastery ofVatopedi οη Mount Athos.109 Ιη the fifteenth century the cross
in roundel is found together with the double-headed eagle, perhaps a symbol of the dual
spiήtual and secular nature of Byzantine monarchy οη Palaeologian embroidered epitrachelia as,
for example, at the monastery ofSt.John οη Patmos or at the monastery ofSt. Catheήne, Sinai.
Ιη addition, the double-headed eagle is found embroidered οη the silk manuscήpt cover from
Grottafeπata of the Emperor Manuel II Palaeologus (r. 1391-1425). This manuscήpt was
carήed by the Emperor John VIII (r. 1425-1448) to the Council of Union of Churches at
Feπara-Florence (1438-1439). Gifts from the Palaeologian Emperors are documented to the
great Orthodox monasteήes including silk vestments, but all the treasuήes have not been
published yet.110
Conclusion
lmpeήal Byzantine silk and embroidery production and distήbution acted as a power strategy of
Byzantine monarchy. Through the careful regulation of the silk industry, both lmpeήal and
pήvate a monopoly over certain categoήes of lmpeήal silks was maintained, which guaranteed
the raήty, exclusivity, and quality of lmpeήal silk and embroidery production and as the best
silks were reserved for impeήal use, consequently marked out the lmpeήal person from the
ruled. Α public persona, as well as a mark of impeήal identity, could be assigned to the agency
of impeήal silks displayed through ήtual and ceremonial as the central element of the expression
95
Anna Muthesius
of Basilea. Court hierarchy through the distήbution of lmpeήal silks to mark rank gave a
semblance of order, which reflected the perfect order of the celestial court above. The divine
sanction of the Byzantine rulers afforded them special relations with the divine and with their
subjects, whilst legitimising their individual ήght to rule. Through the diplomatic distήbution
of the lmpeήal silks the rulers facilitated East-West discourse, promoted foreign relations,
controlled military outcomes, and expressed special relations they sought to promote.
lmpeήal Byzantine silks gave agency to Byzantine political theory in direct visual form.
They served to keep subjects and foreign powers alike in mind of the great Roman, Hellenistic,
and J udeo-Chήstian heήtage of Byzantium, whilst legitimising their rule. As emphasis of their
autocracy in theocratic context the silks within ήtual and ceremonial context, served to display
and to render visible the secular and spiήtual power of the rulers. Kept in touch with their
subjects through their divine calling the Byzantine rulers at first directly and then indirectly
through close alliance between church and state, could maintain their role as Chήstian rulers,
protectors of their Chήstian realm, and of the Chήstian salvation of their subjects. Also, thanks
to their close association with Chήstian practices and their support of the cult of Chήstian
saints, to which the extensive use of Byzantine silks gave voice, the rulers could induce the
feeling that the earthly court evermore evoked the perfect order of the Heavenly court above.
Indeed, painted holy figures featured in manuscήpts and οη icons wore lmpeήal silk ceremonial
costume. Regulation of foreign relations through silk exchange and silk gift giving acted as part
of the defence of the state and together with promotion of the silk trade counteracted threats
from foreign powers. Ιη their participation of East-West relations through silk diplomatic gift
exchange Byzantine rulers not only marked out the place of their realm οη an international
stage, but they demonstrated their wealth, power, authoήty, and prestige within a Chήstian and
a non-Chήstian world. This indicated to the non-Chήstian powers, that silk carήed authoήty at
a supernatural level, which may have been why in Turkic newly excavated graves of the
Caucasus Chήstian Byzantine silks were found deliberately cut up, reassembled and re
configured perhaps as sign of subjugation of such powers.111 The influence of Byzantine silks
was felt too, in Central Asia, where one diplomatic lion silk clearly had penetrated and been
imitated in a Central Asian local silk weaving style.112 Byzantine silks above all acted as a
medium of communication, and they embodied messages and rendered them visual, which
ensured the wide dissemination of lmpeήal ideology and political theory. Ιη the context of
debates οη the definition of Byzantine identity in general, it appears that however much open
to question, lmpeήal identity as autocracy upheld by theocracy, may have offered an anchor
upon which to secure the diverse identities of a multi-ethnic, budding "nation state," which
over centuήes had evolved out of a deconstructed Roman Empire.
Notes
1 For example, Ioannis Stouraitis, "Roman Identity in Byzantium: Α Cήtical Approach," ΒΖ 107/1
(2014): 175-220; Anthony Kaldellis, Romanland: Ethnicity and Empire in Byzantium (Cambήdge ΜΑ:
HUP, 2019), 159-278; Walter Pohl, Clemens Gantner, Cinzia Grifoni and Maήanne Pollheimer
Mohaupt, eds. Transformations rif
Romanness: Early Medieval Regions and Identities (Berlin: De
Gruyter, 2018).
rif rif
2 Meredith Riedel, Leo VI and the Transformation Byzantine Christian Identity: Writings an unexpected
Emperor (Carnbήdge: CUP, 2018), 172-3.
3 Sigurδur Gylfi Magnίιsson, "Social History as Sites of Memory and the Institutionalization of
History: Micro-history and the Grand Narrative," JSH 39 (2006): 892-913.
4 Maήca Cassis, "Reconsideήng the Narrative ofldentity in Byzantine Anatolia," Byzantine Worlds
Seminar, 17 February 2021 (zoom meeting 91424062947). Cf, however,John Kee, "Writing Edessa
into the Roman Empire," SLA 5.1 (2021): 28-64.
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Imperial Identity
5 Anna Muthesius, Silk in Byzantium (London: Pindar, 2004), ch. 1, 1-22, nt. 1. Α broader approach as
to which texts might be consulted in the study of political theory outside Byzantine studies, is found
in, Maήnos Sariyannis, Ottoman Political Ίhought up to the Tanzimat (Leiden: Bήll, 2016), 728.
6 The interdisciplinary detailed study of Byzantine mateήal culture is still under emphasised. It has
been pioneered by the Byzantine Institute of the University of Vienna, and encouraged by the
Byzantine and Early Christian Museum, Athens through publications and exhibitions. See, e.g.,
Michael Gruenbart, Ewald Κislinger, Anna Muthesius, Dionysios Stathakopoulos, Material and
Well-Being in Byzantium (40(}-1453). Proceedings of the International Conference, Cambήdge,
8-10 September 2001. Byzanzforschung Band ΧΙ. (Wien: OAW, 2007).
7 Anna Muthesius, Byzantine Silk Weaving (Vienna: Fassbender, 1997).
8 Anna Muthesius, "Silk, Culture and Being in Byzantium (4-15 Centuήes)," Deltion of the Christian
Archaeological Society 36 (2015): 345-62, acts as a demonstration of the use of this approach.
9 Diagram 1 incorporates the main themes of relevance. These are the militarisation and sacralisation of
the emperor's image as symbols of autocracy and theocracy both as part of literary and artistic tra
dition/ aesthetic.
10 Gilbert Dagron, Emperor and Priest. Ίhe Imperial Office in Byzantium (Carnbridge: CUP, 2003). The
epistomonarches tide and its implications are vaήously discussed οη 2-5, 25, 259, 269, 281, and 294.
For the concept of the ruler both as Emperor and as priest see 295-306. For the relationship between
church and state see 306-12. The definition of basileia is explored οη 30-1, 55-8, 75-6, 79-80,
303-4, and οη multiple other pages as indicated in the index of the book οη page 327.
11 The concepts of autocracy and theocracy are inter-related as indicated οη the four quadrants shown
in Diagram 1.
12 Examples of miniatures of Christ crowning Emperors include that of Rome, Biblioteca Apostolica
Vaticano, Vatican City, cod urban GR2, folio 19v (Constantinople, second quarter of the thirteenth
century). See Byzantium, Royal Academy of Arts, 25 October 2008-2 March 2009, exhibition
catalogue (London: RA, 2008), 118, pl. 56 and cat. ηο. 59, οη page 359, depicting John ΙΙ
Comnenos (1118-1143) and his son Alexios (circa 1122-1142). Ιη the same publication οη 127 and
397-8 under cat. nos. 68 and 70, respectively, compare the ivoήes showing Constantine VII
crowned by Chήst, Moscow State Pushkin Museum inv. 11-162, (Constantinople 945) and Chήst
blessing Otto ΙΙ (967983) and Empress Theophanou, Paήs, Cluny Museum inv. CI. 392. The latter is
a western ivory imitating a Byzantine ivory. Christ crowning Michael VII Dukas re-labelled
Nikephoros ΠΙ Botaneites and Maria of Alania is in the Homilies of John Chrysostom, Paris,
National Library, ms. Coislin 79, folio 1 (2bis), (Constantinople c. 1071-1081), see Glory of
Byzantium, New Υork, Metropolitan Museum, 11 March--6 July 1997, exhibition catalogue pl. 83
under cat. ηο. 143 οη pages 207-8.
13 Simeon of Thessaloniki, Questions and Answers, PG 155: 829-952. There was a loss of imperial
authoήty duήng the occupation of Constantinople under the Latins between 1204 and 1261.
14 Christ depicted as Patήarch occurs οη silks including those which continued to be woven under the
Ottoman rulers after the fall of Constantinople in 1453. Refer to Warren Woodfin, The Embodied
Icon: Liturgical Textiles and Sacramental Power in Byzantium (Oxford: OUP, 2012), 9. Cf., Kate
Dimitrou and Margaret Goehring, eds. Dressing the Part. Textiles as Propaganda in the Middle Ages
(Turnhout: Brepols, 2014), 31-51.
15 The definition of Byzantine art is briefly explored in, Charles Barber, "Theories of Art," in
Ίhe Cambridge Intellectual History of Byzantium, eds. Α. Kaldellis and Ν. Siniossoglou (Cambήdge:
CUP, 2017), 129-40 with further references in the notes. For Byzantine aesthetics refer to Nadine
Schibille, Hagia Sophia and the Aesthetic Experience (Farnham: Variorum, 2014), 1-12, 171-3, 227-40.
Οη the aesthetics of light, see 22, 95-8, 125, 168-70, and further bibliography in the footnotes. Also,
Bissera Pentcheva, Ίhe Sensual Icon: Space, Ritual and the Senses in Byzantium (Philadelphia: PUP,
2010); Bissera Pentscheva, 'Ήagia Sophia and Multisensory Aesthetics," Gesta 50 (2011): 93-111.
16 For questions of how far the human mind can or cannot be carήed towards Divine Truth see the
detailed analysis ofDavid Bradshaw, Aristotle East and West: Metaphysics and the Division of Christendom
(Cambήdge: CUP, 2004).
17 Bradshaw, Aristotle East and West, 146-86.
18 For emotional reaction to images and God revealed although he is beyond thought see, Bradshaw,
Aristotle East and West, 190-214.
19 Laskaήna Bouras, "The Epitaphios of Thessaloniki, Byzantine Museum of Athens ηο. 685," in L'art
Ίhessalonique et des pays balkaniques et les courants spirituels au XIV siecle, ed. D. Davidov (Belgrade:
97
Anna Muthesius
Academie serbe des sciences et des arts, Institut des etudes balkaniques, 1987), 211-31. Anna
Muthesius, "The Thessaloniki Epitaphius: Α Technical Examination," in Silk in Byzantium. ed.
Muthesius (London: Pindar, 2004), 175-206. Note pήnting error of names placed οη diagram οη
page 182, bakladota = kamarakia; kamarakia = amygdalo (oval and not diamond shaped); kotsakia =
bakladota; amygdalo = kotsaki; (kotsaki = kotsakia). For the Book of Ceremonies see. Ι. Ι. Reiske,
Constantini Porphyrogentii imperatoris: De Cerimoniis aulae Byzantinae (Βοηη: Weber, 1829-1831).
Albert Vogt, Constantine VII Porpyrogenete, le Livre des Ceremonies, Ι Commentary, Ι-ΙΙ (Paris: Vogt,
1935-1939). English translation, Anne Moffatt and Maxeme Tall, eds. Constantine Porphyrogennetos,
The Book of Ceremonies, ΒΑ18 (Leiden: Bήll, 2017). Textiles are widely descήbed throughout for
investitures, appointments, festivals, and reception of embassies in book Ι and for processions, annual
commemorations appointments of high-ranking officials in book ΙΙ.
20 The power of textiles to communicate messages is discussed in Anna Muthesius, "Silken Dress
Codes, Gender and Power in Byzantium,"; "Mateήal Culture and Well Being in Byzantium," in
Studies in Byzantine, Islamic and Near Eastern Silk Weaving, ed. Α. Muthesius (London: Pindar, 2008),
31-7 and 204-83 with references to further bibliography.
21 Theodoret of Cyrrhus, De Providentia orat (PG83, 617-20) (Paris: Migne, 1859) οη weavers and
textiles as intermediaήes for communication of God's truth.
22 Johannes Koder, Das Eparchenbuch Leons des Weisen (Wien: OAW, 1991) details the regnlations for
the operation of the silk gnilds οη 97-106, and οη 91-6 the regulations for clothing retails appear.
The silk garments forbidden for use outside the court are detailed οη 91-3, and those dyed and
tailored for court use only appear οη 103-7.
23 Οη Haghia Sophia, see, Ilhan Aksit, The History and Architecture of Hagia Sophia (Istanbul: Aksit,
2012), 298-9.
24 For God as uncreated light see, Bradshaw, Aristotle East and West, 206-14.
25 See Procopius and Paul the Silentiary οη the impact of Hagia Sophia οη the senses in Procopius,
Buildings (Haury ed.), I,23ff. and Paulus Silentaήus, Descr. S. Sophiae, (Fήedlander ed.), 186, and
Descr. Ambonis 50ff, as translated in Cyήl Mango, The Art of the Byzantine Empire 312-1453 (New
Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1972), 72-8, 80-102.
26 Mango, Art of the Byzantine Empire, 89-91.
27 For impeήal support and promulgation of the Chήstian cult of saints, including the cult of the Virgin,
see Vasiliki Limberis, Divine Heiress: The Virgin Mary and the Creation of Christian Constantinople
(London: Roudedge, 1994), 62-98; Loli Kalavrezou, 'Ήelping Hands for the Empire: Impeήal
Ceremonial and the Cult of relics at the Byzantine Court," in Byzantine Court Culture from
829-1204, ed. Η. Magnire (Washington: DO, 1997), 53-80.
28 For cloth relics consult Aveήl Cameron, "The Virgin's Robe: Αη Episode in the History of Seventh
Century Constantinople," Byzantion 49 (1979): 2-56; "The History of the Image of Edessa: The
Telling of a Story," in Essays Presented to Ihor Sevcenko on His Sixtieth Birthday, eds. C. Mango and Ο.
Prisek Okeanos (Cambridge, ΜΑ: HUP, 1984), 80-94. Norrnan Baynes, "The Supernatural
Defenders of Constantinople," in Byzantine Studies and Other Essays, ed. Ν. Baynes (London:
Athlone, 1955), 257-60; Martin Jugie, "L' eglise de Chalcopratia et le culte de la Ceinture de la
a
sainte Vierge Constantinople," Echos d' Orient 16 (1913): 308-12. Christopher Walter, Art and
Ritual of the Byzantine Church (Farnham: Variorum, 1982), 144-56. For the cloth relics of the girdle,
maphorion and shroud of the Virgin, see Alexander Kahzdan, ed. Oxford Dictionary of Byzantium
(Oxford: OUP, 1991), Ι, 1779-81 and ΙΙ, 1294 with further bibliography.
29 See, Oxford Dictionary of Byzantium, ed. Α.Ρ. Kazhdan (Oxford: OUP, 1991), ΠΙ, 1701 for the epithet
PORPHYROGENNETOS.
30 For idealised images of the emperor and the creation of a public imperial image and the use of
sumptuous silks and purple dyes note, Anna Muthesius, "Silk as Power at the Byzantine Court and
Intracultural Connectivity Across the Silk Road (4-15 centuries)," in Precious Cloth and Court Culture.
ETSG Conference, 16-17 September 2017, Lucy Cavendish College, University of Cambridge
under publication (Cambridge: CUP, forthcoming). For the special significance of impeήal purple
dyes see, Gerhard Steigerwald, "Das Kaiserliche Purpurpήvileg in spatromischer und
frίihbyzantinischer Zeit," ]ahrbuch fur Antike und Christentum 33 (1990): 209-39. William Avery,
"The Adoratio purpae and the Importance of Imperial Purple in the Chήstian Era," Memoirs of the
Academy in Rome 17 (1940): 66-80. Meyer Reinhold, The History of Purple as α Status Symbol in
Antiquity (Brussels: Latomus, 1970), 199-200, 282-312. The concept of divine ήght is discussed in,
Dagron, Emperor and Priest, 282-312. Cf ODB Ι, 692-3 with further bibliography.
98
Imperial Identity
31 For the emperor and painted images of the emperor surrounded by personified virtues, whom he
exemplified see in Gospels of John Π Comnenos, Rome, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Vatican
City, URB GR 2, folio 10v. Refer to Robin Cormack, Maήa Vassilaki, Byzantium, London, Royal
Academy of Arts, 25 October-22 March 2009 exhibition catalogue, 118, cat. ηο. 59, 395.
32 For imperial vestiture and costume see, Elizabeth Piltz, "Middle Byzantine Court Costume," in
Byzantine Court Culture, 39-51; "Le costume official des dignitaries byzanins a 1'epoque Paleologue,"
Figura n.s. 26. (Uppsala: S. Academiae Upsaliensis, 1994). Nicolas Oikonomides, ed., Les listes de
pres'eance byzantins des ΙΧ et Χ siecles (Paris: Editions of the National Centre for Scientific Research,
1972), 165-235; George Codinus and Jean Verpeaux, eds. Pseudo Kodinos: Traite des offices (Paris:
Editions du Centre national de la recherche scientifique, 1966).
Constantin Pophyrogenere. Epeteήs Byzantinon Spoudon 50 (1999-2000): 79-161. O.D.B. Π,
1251, Ι, 639, ΠΙ 1830, ΠΙ 1908, Ι 424, ΠΙ 1827, under the ceremonial costumes loros, divetsion,
sakkos, skaramangion, chlamys or sagion, tzangia, respectively.
33 Οη the impeήal eagle and griffin motifs see, Muthesius, Byzantine Silk Weaving, 47-50 (eagle silks)
Μ61, Μ62, pl. 74Α, cf. Μ95, pl.74B, pl.85B, Μ951, pl. 90Β and 50-54 gήffin silks) Μ47, pl. 75Β,
Μ66, pl., 15Β, Μ48, pl.115A, Μ49, pl.75A, Μ85, pl. 42Α, cf. M769a, Μ88, pl.65B. Also, Α.
Muthesius, 'The Byzantine Eagle," in Silk in Byzantium, ed. Α. Muthesius, 227-36 and Johannes
Εηηο Korn, 'Άdler und Doppeladler. Ein Zeichen im Wandel der Geschichte," PhD thesis,
Gδttingen University, 1969.
34 Manuelis Philae Carmina (Miller ed.), Ι-ΙΙ (Paris: 1855-1857), Ι, 170.
35 Ekphrasis of the joust of our mighty and holy lord and emperor (Lampros ed.) Neos Ellenomnemon
5 (1908) 13-8; Paul Magdalino and Robert Nelson, "The Emperor in Byzantine Art," BF 8 (1982):
123-83.
36 For a detailed technical analysis of the Auxerre eagle silk see, Beatrice Girault-Kurtzemann and
Gabriel Vial, "La Conservation du tissue aux aigles d' Auxerre," C.J.E. Τ.Α Bulletin 71 (1993):
26-35. Οη the dyes used for the Βήχeη eagle silk, see Judith Hofenk de Graaf, The Colouιful Past
(Riggisberg: Abegg-Stiftung, Archetype, 2004), 270-83, for the purple of the Sitten gήffin silk.
37 Οη the theme of noble descent, refer to Anna Muthesius, 'Έmbroidered Silks as Refiected in
Byzantine Painting," in Silk in Byzantium, 207-26, esp. 212-3.
38 Manuelis Philae Carmina (Miller ed.), Ι (Paήs: 1885) 170. Paul Magdalino, Tradition and
Transformation in Medieval Byzantium (Aldershot: Variorum, 1991), 66-7.
39 Manuelis For Palamas, Hesychast theology, and direct perception of the divine consult, John
Meyendorff, Α Study cif Gregory Palamas (London: St Vladimirs Seminary Press, 1974). Also see
Lowell Clucas, 'Έschatological Theory in Byzantine Hesychasm: Α Parallel inJoachim da Fiore," ΒΖ
70 (1977): 324-46 with further bibliography.
40 Paul Magdalino, "Basileia: The idea of Monarchy in Byzantium, 600-1200," in The Cambridge
Intellectual History of Byzantium, eds. Α. Kaldellis and Ν. Siniossoglou (Cambήdge: CUP, 2017),
575-98. Cf., however, Dmitήev's chapter in this handbook.
41 Magdalino, "Basileia," 575.
43 For the Heraclius monogram silk refer to Anna Muthesius, "Memory and Meaning: Graphic Sigu
and Abstract Symbol in Byzantine Silk Weaving (6-10/11 centuries)," in Graphic Signs cif Identity,
Faith, and Power in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages, Cursor Mundi 27, eds. Ι. Gaήpzanov, C.
Goodson and Η. Maguire (Turnhout: Brepols, 2017), 351-81, esp. 354-7.
44 Magdalino, "Basileia," 581-82. For the relic of the True Cross see, Jan Willem Drijvers, Helena
Augusta: The Mother of Constantine the Great and the Legend cif herjinding cif the True Cross (Leiden: Bήll,
1992); Constantin Zuckerrnan, 'Ήeraclius and the Return of the Holy Cross: Constructing the
Seventh Century," Trauvaux et Mέmoires 17 (2013): 197-218.
45 For the development of the Byzantine silk industry, see Anna Muthesius, "From Seed to Samite:
Aspects of Byzantine Silk Production,"; "Crossing Traditional Boundaήes: Grub to Glamour in
Byzantine Silk Weaving," in Byzantine and Islamic Silk Weaving, ed. Α. Muthesius (London: Pindar,
1995), 119-34 and 173-200, with further bibliography, respectively.
46 Impeήal patronage to the Orthodox monasteήes of Patmos, Sinai, and the Athos foundations was
extensive and continuous as the chrysobulls and typica of these monasteries indicate. See for example
Treasures of Mount Athos. Exhibition catalogue (Athens: Ministry of Culture, 1997), 432, 446-7,
cat. ηο. 13.91.
99
Anna Muthesius
47 By the thirteenth century a great many silk cloths and vestments were in use as Haghia Sofia, ηο early
examples used there survive today.
48 Magdalino, "Basileia," 580-1.
49 The V and Α, London and the St. Ulήch and Affra Imperial emperor portrait silks are catalogued and
technically categorised, pictured, and dated/discussed in Muthesius, Byzantine Silk Weaving, on
178-9 (Μ45) pl.16B and 188, (Μ75) pl.86B. Cf Byzantine embroidered Impeήal Byzantine
Imperial portraits, οη a chasuble ofEmperor Henry ΙΙ (d. 1024 A.D.), Μ843, pl.118B.
51 For a detailed presentation of the public display of silks in Byzantium note most recendy, Anna
Muthesius, "Silk as Power at the Byzantine Court and Intra-cultural Connectivity Across the Silk
Road," paper read at Precious Cloth and Court Culture ETSG Conference, 16-17th September
2017, Lucy Cavendish College, Cambridge, Α. Muthesius ed., under publication forthcoming.
rif
52 As evidenced by the Book Ceremonies ofEmperor Constantine Porphyrogennetus.
54 For silks with 'Ήellenistic" motifs see, Muthesius, Byzantine Silk Weaving, 72-3, 173-6, (Μ30) and
(Μ36) respectively with further bibliography, 169 (Μ13), pl. 55Β, 165, (Μ5), pl. 54Β, for example.
55 For the Brussels chaήoteer and the Maastήcht Dioscurides silks respectively, see Muthesius,
"Memory and Meaning," 373-6.
56 For Judeo-Christian influence οη the iconography of Byzantine silks see for instance, Muthesius,
Byzantine Silk Weaving, 165-7, (M6a), (M6b), 169-74 (Μ16) and plates 54a, 59Β, 55Α respectively.
57 Magdalino, "Basileia," 580-1, forEast/West Contacts see, International Association for the Study of
Silk Road Textiles, Proceedings 1-2, Hang Hzou, China 2015-2016.
58 Magdalino, "Basileia," 582-3. Οη the concept of symbasileia (co-regency of theEmperor and Christ)
see references in nt. 9 above and for its further visual expression see Chήst crowning
Emperors οη two ivoήes. These are the Otto ΙΙ and Theophanou coronation ivory (Paήs, Cluny
Museum), Western copy of Byzantine ivory, 982/983 A.D. and the Eodakia) and Romanos ΙΙ
coronation ivory (945-949 A.D.). The ivoήes appear in Muthesius, Byzantine Silk Weaving, on pls.
119Α and 119Β.
60 For the Mozac hunter silk, see Muthesius, Byzantine Silk Weaving, 68-9, 175, (Μ34), pl. 24Β.
Muthesis, Byzantine Silk Weaving, 68-71. For the Bamberg Tapestry, see Muthesius, Byzantine Silk
Weaving, 101-3, 193 (Μ90), pls. 52Β, 53Α. with further bibliography. Also, Gίinter Prinzing, "Das
Gunthertuch in neuersicht," in Byzantium and Its Neighbours from the Mid 9-12 Centuries,"
Byzantinoslavica 54 (1993): 218-31. Earlier note, Andre Grabar, "La soie byzantine de l'eveque
Gunther a la Cathedrale de Bamberg," Mίinchener Jahrbuch 7 (1956): 227. Paul Stephenson,
Byzantium's Balkan Frontier: Α Political Study of the Ν. Balkans 900-1204 (Cambridge: CUP,
2000), 53-4.
62 Οη hunter and chaήoteer themes amongst surviving Byzantine silks see, Muthesius, Byzantine Silk
Weaving, 68-73, (Μ34), pl.24B, (Μ31), pl.25A, (M350a), pl.79A, (M350c), pl. 79Β, (Μ347), pl.
25Β, pl. 351, (Μ32), pl. 8Α, (Μ270, pl. 77Α, (Μ326), pl. 21Β (hunter silks), (Μ29, pl. 23Α, (Μ30),
pl.22A (chaήoteer silks). John Haldon and Leslie Brubaker, eds. Byzantium in the Iconoclast Era,
c. 680-850 A.D. (Cambridge: CUP, 2017), (only post publication, copyήght permission sought for
use of Muthesius copyήght photos). The non-specialist references the authors made to silks in
Muthesius, Byzantine Silk Weaving, for dating purposes, unfortunately, are not accurate and their
suggestions for alternative dating are not only misleading, but also do not use the conclusions reached
by Muthesius's from her first-hand technical analysis of the surviving silks.
64 Muthesius, Byzantine Silk Weaving, 67-8, (Μ35), pls. 20Α, 20Β. Two pieces of the Annunciation and
Nativity silks. Vassilaki Cormack, ed. Byzantium, 98, 389, cat. ηο. 48. Marielle Martiniani-Reber,
"Nouveau regard sur les soieήes du !Άnnunciation et la Nativite du Sancta Sanctorum," C.I.E. Τ.Α.
Bulletin 63-4 (1986): Ι-ΙΙ, 12-9 with dating comment by Μ. and D. Κing, "The Annunciation and
Nativity Silks: Α Supplementary Note," οη pages 20-21. Martiniani-Reberfavoured a pre-Iconoclasm
date before A.D. 726-787. The Κings thought that date to be too early οη technical grounds and
they favoured 780-813. between first and second Iconoclasm. Ι believe that the silks most likely were
produced after the end of second Iconoclasm (A.D. 843) in Constantinople, based upon their quality,
technical competence, and subject matter.
100
Imperial Identity

67 Discussed in Muthesius, Byzantine Silk Weaving, ch.14, 119-44.
68 Magdalino, "Basileia," 586. Basil Ι had murdered his predecessor and Leo VI had secured an heir
through a controversial fourth marriage.
70 Magdalino, "Basileia," 586-7. For Leo's Novella and regarding his permission for ordinary citizens to
sew scraps of impeήal purple silks to their clothing see, Pierre Noailles and Alphonse Dain, Les
Nouvelles de Lέon le Sage (Paήs: 1944), Novel 40, 272ff. Discussed in Muthesius, Silk in Byzantium,
1-22, esp. 3-4.
71 The Byzantine silk guilds were founded at an early date and they were strongly regulated. Their
specialised operations can be paralleled to the operation of the non-mechanised silk Industry in India.
The present author travelled to India to inspect the operation of these guilds in detail in 19881989.
The findings were incorporated into, Anna Muthesius, "From Seed to Samite: Aspects ofByzantine
Silk Production', in Byzantine and Islamic Silk Weaving, ed. Anna Muthesius (London: Pindar, 1995),
119-34.
72 Magdalino, "Basileia," 587 nt. 63 with further bibiliography.
73 The idealised portrait ofBasil ΙΙ is shown wearing purple Impeήal military uniform in the Psalter of
Basil ΙΙ manuscήpt, Venice Marciana library, gr. 17, οη folio 1. The Emperor was regarded as having
defeated the Bulgars in 1017A.D., see Paul Stephenson, Ίhe Legend rif Basil the Bulgarslayer
74 rif
Οη the role of the Book Ceremonies refer to Aveήl Cameron, "The Construction of Court Ritual:
The Byzantine Book of Ceremonies," in Rituals of Royalty, Power and Ceremonial in Traditional
Societies, eds. H.C. Evans, W.D. Wixom, Ε. Cannadine and S. Pήce (Cambήdge: CUP, 1992),
106-36.
75 For the Sinai icon with the Emperor Constantine VII as Abgar holding the mandylion see, Aveήl
Cameron, "The History of an Image of Edessa: The Telling of Story," Harvard Ukrainian Studies 7
(1983): 80-94. Okeanos. Essays presented to Ihor Sevcenko οη his 60th birthday by his Colleagues
and Students (Cambήdge, ΜΑ: HUP, 1983). Further consult, Stefan Ionescu-Berechet, 'Το
Haghion Mandylion: Istorίa un c' traditii," Studi Teologice 6, ηο. 2 (2010): 109-85. Earlier note Ernst
Κitzinger, "The Cult oflmages in the Age Before Iconoclasm," DOP 8 (1954): 83-150.
77 For the concept of theByzantine court as mirror of the "heavenly court" see Henry Maguire, "The
Heavenly Court," in Image and Imagination in Byzantine Court Culture, ed. Η. Maguire (London:
Roudedge, 2007), 247-58.
78 Magdalino, "Basileia," 591-5 with source references and further literature in footnotes 80-112.
79 Magdalino, "Basileia," 596 with source in nt. 115. Riedel, Leo VI and the Transformation of Christian
Identity, 74-136 for a vaήety of aspects of the formation of Imperial Chήstian identity.
80 Magdalino, "Basileia," 595-7, with source reference in nts. 112-21.
81 Magdalino, "Basileia," 595-7 with source in nt. 115.
82 Magdalino, "Basileia," 186, with source reference in nt. 116.
83 Gerhard Rδsch, Onoma Basileias: Studien zum offiziellen gebrauch der Kaisertitel in Spdtantiker und
fruhbyzantinischer Zeit (Wien: OAW, 1978), 157-8.
84 Rδsch, Onoma Basileias, 111-2.
85 Rδsch, Onoma Basileias, 115, nt. 127 with references to further bibliography.
86 Rδsch, Onoma Basileias, 112-3 and nts. 211-20.
87 Rδsch, Onoma Basileias, 114 and nt. 225 with source reference.
88 Rδsch, Onoma Basileias, 114-5 with nts. 226-7.
89 Rδsch, Onoma Basileias, 116 with nt. 232 with source reference and further bibliography.
90 Rδsch, Onoma Basileias, 116.
91 This silk was supposedly lost in the second world war, but it was discovered by the present author in
the former East Berlin at Schloss Kopenick. How it reached there remains unknown. Muthesius,
Byzantine Silk Weaving, 34-5, 180-1 (Μ52).
92 For these Lion silks see, Muthesius, Byzantine Silk Weaving, 35-8, 181-2 (Μ53-Μ54), (Μ58), pl. 4Α,
4Β, (Μ616), (Μ96Β), (Μ615), pl.3A.
93 The detailed reasons for the dating of these silks after their first-hand location and personal technical
analysis, was oήginally published by Anna Muthesius, 'Ά Practical Approach to the History of
101
Anna Muthesius
Byzantine Silk Weaving," ]ahrbuch der Oesterreichischen Byzaninistik 34 (1984): 143-61. Later see,
Anna Muthesius, "Silken Diplomacy," in Byzantine Diplomacy. Papersfrom the 24th Spring Symposium of
Byzantine Studies, eds. J. Shepard and S. Franklin (Aldershot: Vaήorum, 1992), 237-48. There was
ηο technical analysis of silks in nineteenth-century antiquarian reports of their existence. The first
task was to locate and to technically analyse and to provide a chronology of weaving types for the
surviving Byzantine silks, which the author carried out between 1971 and 1982. The dating of the
Byzantine silks according to this technical chronology of weaving types was set out in Muthesius,
Byzantine Silk Weaving.
94 Muthesius, "Silken Diplomacy," 37-8.
95 The Aachen Elephant silk was personally examined and technically analysed and photographed by
the present author at Aachen Cathedral treasury, in the 1970s before it was perrnanendy enclosed
again into the Aachen shrine ofEmperor Charlemagne. The authors wήting about the silk up to this
time had not examined the silk and had ηο idea that its inscήptions, through wear, did not include an
indiction number-based date, via which they, nevertheless, were attempting to provide a date for the
silk. See Muthesius, Byzantine Silk Weaving, 38-9, 183, (Μ58), pl. 5Α-9Α. The technical excellence
of the silk in combination with clues from its imperial inscription provides evidence that it most
probably dates to the early eleventh century.
96 Muthesius, "Graphic Sign," 365-70.
97 For silks with Old or New Testament/ 'Ήellenistic''/or early ornamental/figurative motifs refer to
Muthesius, Byzantine Silk Weaving, as follows: chapter 8, 80-4, (Μ160), pl. 26Β Goseph), (Μ20)
(Daniel), (Μ398), pl.27A, (reclining Virgin), (Μ21), pl.81B, (pastoral scene), 88, (Μ5), pl.27B,
(Nereid), (Μ22), pl.82A, (dancer), (M398f), pl. 28Α, (Nile scene), (M45a-53a), pls.29A, 29Β, 30Α.
98 Asterios of Amasia (Homil. Ι. (P.G. Migne) XL, 165c167c.) admonished Christians who dressed in
garrnents made from fabήcs decorated with Christian scenes.
99 For the Liber Pontificalis references to textiles with narrative Christian scenes see, Muthesius,
Byzantine Silk Weaving, 124-5.
100 The greater sakkos of the Metropolitan Photius is kept in the Museums of the Kremlin, Moscow.
Refer to Medieval Pictorial Embroidery. Byzantium, Balkans, Russia exhibition catalogue.
International Congress of Byzantinists, 8-15 Augu st 1991, 44-57, cat. ηο. 10.
101 Οη an impeήal Byzantine, silk tablet woven belt excavated in the Northern Caucausus, refer to Anna
Ierusalimskaja, Die Graber der Mosceveja Balka. Friihmittelalterliche Funde an der Nordkaukasichen
Seidenstrasse (Mίinchen: Maris, 1996). 251-2, cat. ηο. 34, pl. LXXXII, abb. 213. The belt exhibited
in Munich, see Α.Α. Ierusalimkja and Birgitt Borkopp, eds. Von China nach Byzanz. Bayerisches
National Museum, Mίinchen 25 Okt-26 Jan 1996-1997 (Mίinchen: Rittel, 1996), 68-9, cat. ηο. 79.
102 Muthesius, Byzantine Silk Weaving, (Μ622), pl.107B. The silk shows a single-headed, multi-bodied
quadruped motif for which a literary parallel is found in Theodori Prodromi, De Rhodanthes
Dosiclis Amoήbus Libή, ΙΧ (Μ. Markovica ed.) (Stutgardiae et Lipsiae, 1992).
103 For the Thebes and Coήnth silk reference, consult Michael Choniates, Epistolai (S. Larnpros ed.),
1996, 99-100 and note 2, L. ΙΙ. 83. Οη provincial silk production note, David Jacoby, "Silk in
Western Byzantium Before the Fourth Crusade," ΒΖ 84-5 (1991-1992): 452-500. Jacoby, however,
is not a textile specialist and his use of specialised textile terminology is often incorrect or confused.
His translation of textile terrninology used in historical texts is beyond the scope of his expertise and
should be treated with extreme caution, therefore.
104 It is likely that silk production was moved to Nicaea during the peήod of the Latin occupation of
Constantinople between 1204 and 1261 A.D. See Theodore Metochites, Nicene Oration (Foss ed.)
and is cited by Clive Foss, Nicaea: Α Byzantine Capital and its Praises(Brookline, ΜΑ: Hellenic
College Press, 1996), 190-2, chapter 18, lines 12-7. The dating of the text is discussed in Ι.
Sevcenko, Etudes sur la polemique entre Theodore Metochite et Nicephore Choumos (Bruxelles:
Byzanthion , 1962), 137-40.
105 Muthesius, "Thessaloniki Epitaphius," 192.
106 Muthesius, "Thessaloniki Epitaphius," 192-3.
109 For the Byzantine gold embroideries see, Μ. Theochaήs, Ekkleiastika Chήsokendeta (Athens: ηο
date), plate 14 for example, and her further bibliography. Also see, Byzance, Paήs, Louvre Museum,
3 Nov-Fev, 1992-1993, exhibition cat. 469-76, ηο.361. Berthe Van Regemort, "La reliure
Byzantine," Revue belge d' archeologie et d' histoire de l'art 36 (1969): 99-142, pl. XIV, number 19.
102
Imperial Identity
110 For the Grottaferratta Palaeologan Byzantine binding see Muthesius, "Thessloniki Epitaphius," 193.
Οη mainly post Byzantine embroidered vestments see, Warren Woodfιn, The Embodied Icon.
Liturgical vestments and sacramental power in Byzantium (Oxford: OUP, 2012).
111 Οη Byzantine silk dismanded and used for a different purpose excavated in the Caucasus see Warren
Woodfin and Renata Holod, "Foreign Vestiture and Nomadic Identity οη the Black Sea Littoral in
the Early Thirteenth Century: Costume from the Chungul Kurgan," Ars Orientalis 38 (2010): 164-5.
112 The silk in question is the Maastricht, St. Servatius, lion silk, see Muthesius, Byzantine Silk Weaving,
44, 197 (Μ102), pls. 10Α, 10Β.
103
Taylor & Francis
PART 11
Romanitas ίη the Late Antique

Mediterranean
Taylor & Francis
6
ΤΟ TRIUMPH FOREVER:
ROMANS AND BARBARIANS ΙΝ
EARLΥ BYZANTIUM
It would indeed be disgraceful, my fellow Romans, if you were to suffer the same fate
as the barbaήans and not to surpass them as much by your supeήor intelligence as you
do in physical prowess. -General Narses to the Roman army 1
This excerpt from the mid-sixth century history by Agathias (circa 532-580) highlights a
continuing sense of Roman identity and lingeήng belief-or perhaps desire- that the world
could still be neatly divided between dominant Romans and infeήor barbaήans.2 Agathias here
and elsewhere forges an image of true Romanness by contrasting it against the barbaήan other.
By having Narses proudly declare to his soldiers that for Rome "to tήumph forever over our
enemies is our birth ήght and ancestral pήvilege," Agathias pompously trumpets Roman ex
ceptionalism. 3 Although Agathias offers a famously flattering portrait of the Franks as a virtuous
Chήstian people,4 more often than not in his history he paints a picture of Roman ex
ceptionalism and non-Roman infeήoήty. 5 As they had been for much ofGreco-Roman history
those descήbed as the barbarians on Agathias's pages were often οη the opposing end of this
rhetorical paddle. Το borrow Agathias's perspective once again, "the injustice (αδικία) and ra
paciousness (επιθυμία) that characterised the behaviour of barbaήans" was trumped time and
time again by the "disciplined courage (φρονήματος ευκοσμίας)" of Roman soldiers. 6
For those who suppose that the Romans' best days had come and gone after the last western
emperor Romulus Augustulus (r. 475-476) had been deposed, this sentiment might be sur
pήsing or perceived as a wishful anachronism οη the part of the Greek-speaking
Constantinopolitan lawyer and part-time poet/histoήan.7 Despite a stern rejection in most
recent scholarship of a simplistic dichotomy of civilised Romans versus savage barbarians,8
scholars of gender examining interactions amongst non-Romans and Romans in the decisive
fifth century still tend to trace parts of the well-trodden path laid out long ago by Edward
Gibbon, by which increasingly non-martial Romans in the West are gradually overwhelmed by
manlier warήor-barbaήan peoples, who then carve out post-Roman kingdoms; the East
Romans are largely ignored.9
By examining the perspective of the East Romans/Byzantines in this cuπent chapter Ι seek
to expose some of the flaws in taking too naπow of a geographical and chronological approach
to East Roman attitudes towards non-Romans in the fifth century and beyond. Indeed, to
avoid an undeveloped picture of the Roman/barbaήan binarism, we must take in the views
DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-8 107

from both Western and Eastern perspectives and particular moments in time. One caveat before
proceeding. The topos of the debate in this cuπent chapter centres more οη the fantasy con
cerning Byzantine attitudes towards foreign people, rather than the far more complicated
realities discussed in several of the other chapters in this current handbook. By using the pe
jorative label barbaήan as a pήmary tool of investigation, the chapter seeks to elucidate how
early Byzantine authors and their audience understood the world around them. 10 Much of what
these Byzantine intellectuals wrote about barbaήans was informed by the conventions of tra
dition. So, to appreciate the tenacity and allure of the dream of Roman over barbaήan we must
first explore some of the reasons Byzantines like Agathias considered barbaήans as lesser men
than the mighty Romans. Let us continue then by taking a closer look at how the stratified
gendered structure of Roman society shaped attitudes towards those labelled as barbaήans.
The Social Hierarchy

"Women" are only one of many groups that have been marginalised in the historical record.
Ethnic rninoήties, slaves, and members of the lower classes have all at one time or another been
effeminised because they were perceived to be subordinated men.11 Α generation of social
histoήans has demonstrated that the relationship between Romans and non-Romans was also
regularly laid out along gendered lines.12 If "woman" represented the biological antithesis of
man, then "barbarian" represented the social inversion of Roman. The Roman social structure
ordained that the individual understood his or her proper socio-political and gender roles:
people over animals, fi:-eemen over slaves, ήch over poor, men over eunuchs, men over women,
and Greeks and Romans over barbarians. 13 So, it is understandable that Greco-Roman men also
occupied a higher rung than barbaήan men οη the ladder of social and masculine perfection. 14
This is not to claim that barbaήans (or any of the other categoήes above) represent homogenous
groups. The category of barbaήan had many diverse shades and could mean different things to
different people at different times. Moreover, barbaήan was chiefly used in opposition to define
what a Roman was not. As Walter Pohl aptly sums, "identities are always constituted by dif
ferences, and the Romans had inherited a power scheme of 'us and them' fi:-om the Greeks, for
whom they had initially been barbaήans themselves." 15
Just as ancient wήters commonly created portraits of women as a way of descήbing men's
character, Roman authors' commentaήes about non-Romans typically tel1 us more about their
own concerns than about the foreign societies they purport to describe. Early Byzantine his
toήes are certainly filled with stock rhetoήcal images depicting foreign peoples as others. 16
There is, however, a contradiction between the xenophobia we find in some of the early
Byzantine sources, and the reality of increased accomrnodation. 17
Ιη the past 25 years, revisionist scholars have questioned the very notion of what a barbarian
was by the opening of the fifth century CE. Α barbaήan COULD therefore be a non-Roman;
but he might just be a member of the new rnilitary elite. Hence, a barbarian like the influential
magister militum, Stilicho (circa 359-408), was simply a powerful man fi:-om the military.18
Stilicho-whose father was a Vandal and mother a Roman-certainly had ηο more barbarian
blood than his contemporary, the East Roman Empress Aeila Eudoxia (circa 380-404), who
was the daughter of the Frankish general Bauto and his Roman wife.19 Barbaήan was a matter
of one's perspective; those who disparaged Stilicho as a barbarian tended to be his enemies.20
It has been proposed that the rnilitary defeats of the fourth and fifth centuήes had con
tήbuted to a shift in attitude in the intellectuals who came after Amrnianus, Eunapius, and
Synesius. Wήters like the fifth-century histoήans Olympiodorus, Orosius, and Malchus saw the
barbarians as "humans with the potential for civilization. They were οη Roman lands for good
108
Το Triumph Forever
and consequently needed to be accepted and dealt with οη equal terms."21 Unquestionably,
most early Byzantine historians recognised the blurήng of the boundaήes between Romans and
barbaήans. One finds in the fifth- and sixth-century histoήes of Pήscus, Cassiodorus,
Procopius, Jordanes, Agathias, and Menander more accurate ethnographies; their texts rely
more upon archival, oral sources, and their own personal experiences when descήbing foreign
individuals or peoples.22 Nevertheless, as we will witness in the remainder of this chapter, this
does not mean that early Byzantine intellectuals were immune fi:-om falling back οη conven
tional tropes depicting non-Romans as barbarian others. Besides, with the Byzantines increasing
ability to project military power across the Mediterranean, it became possible to once again
expect that the barbaήans could be successfully ejected from "Roman" lands or at least cowed
by Roman might.23 Little wonder then that deeply ingrained ideas οη the supeήoήty of the
civilised Romans in opposition to "uncivilised barbarians" bleeds into the wήtings of even these
more enlightened histoήans. It has been argued that Justinian's attempts to monopolise Roman
legitimacy duήng the reconquista ruptured key aspects of Roman identity in the West. Το
borrow the incisive insights of Guy Halsall, 'Άfter twenty years of brutal destructive warfare, ηο
one could be in doubt that the areas beyond actual impeήal authority were not part of the
Empire [anymore]. They remained lost to barbaήans."24 Moreover, as Amold's chapter in this
volume convincingly suggests, the Goths and Justinian's ideological campaigns duήng their
two-decade struggle for Italy centred heavily οη emotive gendered rhetoric.25 Το better ap
preciate both the relevance and resilience of such gendered tropes, we must step back for a
moment to look more closely at the oήgins of some of the prejudicial rhetoric suπounding
Roman/barbaήan binaήsm.
Rome's Mascώine Imperium

The notion that Rome's military struggle against foreign enemies served as a test of each side's
masculinity represented a prominent theme in Greek and Roman histoήography.26 Wήters
from the Republic to the Later Empire equated the struggle between Romans and non
Romans-particularly eastem barbaήans-as a battle between the manly and the unmanly. As
Craig Williams has eloquently put it, true Romans "ήghtfully exercise their dominion or im
perium not only over women but also over foreigners, themselves implicitly likened to women.
Αη obvious implication is that non-Roman peoples were destined to submit to Rome's
masculine imperium."27 Or, to put it slightly differently, while recognizing that this tradition
"saw non-Romans as fierce [and] warlike," Jonathan Conant concludes that "barbaήans were
ultimately cowards. They could be contained, their fierceness hamessed, and as federates they
could be tumed to the empire's advantage. Το do so, however, neither the emperor nor his
aπnies could waiver in their assertiveness or falter in their strength of their arms."28
Late Roman sources like Ammianus articulated the notion that the violent efficiency of the
Roman military machine had been the main driver of Roman exceptionalism.29 From the era
of the Republic, the growth of Rome had come to depend upon its army's ability to conquer
foreign lands and make Romans out of barbaήans. Romans, like the Augustan geographer,
Strabo (63/64 BCE-circa 24 CE), stressed that barbaήsm was an escapable condition. Ιη his
wήtings, he showed that by bήnging good government and civilisation to barbaήan peoples,
Roman impeήalism could overcome some of the environmental and social factors that had
contributed to these non-Roman peoples' "savage" personalities.30 Such optimistic sentiment
was by ηο means universal. We find Agathias, for instance, lamenting "that all barbaήan peoples
are by nature so constituted that even when they are subjects to the Romans, they are far
removed in spiήt fi:-om them and, chafing at the imposition of the rule of law, they incline
109
instinctively to turbulent and seditious behaviour."31 Υet, fi-om the fourth century CE, non
Romans regularly fought for, as well as led Roman armies.32 Το some extent, the participation
of non-Romans in the military was accepted by Romans, even traditionalists like Agathias.33
The Science of Difference

Despite these changing realities and a growing acceptance that barbarians like the Chήstian Goths
and Vandals might not be so different, for many Byzantines, the legacy of the barbarian as an
uncivilised contrast to the cultivated Roman continued to hold sway.34 This view had changed
surpήsingly little over time. The Byzantines's belief in their supremacy was based partly οη tra
ditional views espoused in Greek science.35 Early Byzantine physicians relied heavily οη the work
of earlier intellectuals and medical professionals; hence, to understand how they used biology and
36
climate to explain differences among peoples, it is to these earlier wήtings that one must turn.
Like the mother's womb, the physical environment that one lived in played a part in the
creation of manly and unmanly peoples.37 According to Greek medical texts, one's birthplace
often coπelated with one's ability to attain essential masculine attήbutes. Some of the earliest
examples of this motif are found in the early fifth-century BCE Hippocratic treatise Airs,
Waters, Places. 38 This treatise theoήsed that Asia's continual spring-like climate contήbuted to
the emasculation of its population, asserting that "Manly courage, endurance, labour, and high
spiήtedness could not be produced in such an environment in either native or foreigner. But it
is necessary for pleasure to rule there."39 Ιη contrast to the temperate conditions of Asia, which
created docile and unmanly men, the more vaήed seasons of Western Europe affected the
sperm, which in turn, created the more courageous-albeit unstable-personalities and ana
tomies of the individuals born there.
Α further example fi-om Airs sheds additional light οη the important relationship between
geography and biology in the development of masculine virtues among certain peoples. It is
worth quoting in full:
The other people of Europe differ from one another, both in stature and in shape,
because of the changes of the seasons, which are violent and frequent, while there are
severe heat waves, severe winters, and copious rains, and then long droughts, and
winds, causing many changes of vaήous kinds. Wherefore it is natural to realise that
generation too vaήes in the coagulation of the seed, and it is not the same seed in
summer as in winter nor in rain as in drought. It is for this reason, Ι think, that the
physique of Europeans varies more than that of the Asiatics; and that their stature
differs very widely in each city. For there aήse more coπuptions in the coagulation of
the seed when the changes of the seasons are fi-equent, than when they are similar or
alike. The same reasoning applies also to character. Ιη such a climate arise wildness
(iiγριον), unsociability (iiμεικτον), and spirit (θυμοειδές). For this reason, Ι think the
inhabitants of Europe are also more courageous (εύψυχοτέρους) than Asiatics. For
uniformity engenders slackness (ρι;ιθυμίαι), while variation fosters endurance in both
body and soul; rest and slackness (ήσυχίης καi ρι;ιθυμίης) are food for cσwardice (δειλίη),
endurance and exertion (της ταλαιπωρίης καi των πόνων) for bravery (άνδρείαι).40
Although most modern scholars would consider traits like "courage" and "indolence" as so
cially assigned aspects of gender, we can observe in the example above the conviction that these
behaviours represented aspects of biology, which in turn could be influenced by environmental
conditions.
110
Greco-Roman and Byzantine histoήans adopted some of these pήnciples to their own
ethnographies. Wήting at about the same time as Air, Waters, and Places' composition, 41
Herodotus (circa 484-425 BCE) concludes Histσries by suggesting that peoples who wanted to
maintain their masculine edge should avoid "unmanly" lands. The histoήan-who earlier in his
history attήbuted the martial virtues of the "native" Persians under, the king of kings, Cyrus
(r. 559-530 BCE), to the "roughness" of their native lands-had a warning to all warήor
peoples who rnight consider abandoning their own austere teπitories for more temperate and
luxuήous lands.42 After conqueήng the Medes, a group of Persians attempt to coax Cyrus to
leave this "baπen country of ours and take possession of a better." Ιη response, Cyrus chides his
colleagues to abandon their thoughts of further conquest in Asia, warning: "Sofl countries breed
sofl men (φιλέειν γαρέκτων μαλακών χώρων μαλακούς γίνεσθαι) [ ... ] It is not the property of
any one soil to produce fine fruits and good soldiers too." His men relented, and Herodotus
reckoned that their wise decision "to live in a rugged land" and not "to cultivate ήch plains"
allowed them (the Persians) to rule and not be subjugated by others.43 Though likely apoc
ryphal, this anecdote reveals Herodotus's conviction that geography played a role in shaping
one's character and manliness.44
Moving forward again to the early Roman Empire, we observe further examples of the
influence of Hippocratic treatises οη Roman medical practitioners.45 One sees vaήous authors
expressing the opinion that certain vaήations between Western and Eastern barbaήans could be
explained by a combination of geographic and social factors. The Greek histoήan Aπian in the
second century CE, for instance, utilised this familiar formula in his descήption of the fourth
century BCE conquests of Alexander, to contrast the physical superioήty of the "vigorous"
barbaήans of Europe with "lazy" and "soft" barbaήans of Asia. Before battle, Alexander roused
his troops to battle by declaήng: 'Άs for our barbaήan troops, Thracians, Paeonians, Illyrians,
Agrianians, the most rσbust (ευρωστοτάτους) warlike (μαχιμωτάτους) of Europe, will be aπanged
against the most indσlent (άπον ώτατά) and sqftest (μαλακώτατα) tribes (γένη) of Asia." 46
These beliefs were more than rhetoήcal flouήsh since late Roman rnilitary commanders had
likely read similar views in their training manuals. The late fourth- or fifth-century rnilitary
handbook De Re Militari by Vegetius, for instance, relied upon the traditional notion that
preached "that climate exerts an enormous influence οη the strength of rninds and bodies."
Vegetius wrote:
They tel1 us [classical intellectuals] that all peoples that are near the sun, being parched
by the great heat, are more intelligent but have less blood, and therefore, lack the
steadiness and confidence to fight at close quarters, because those who are conscious of
having less blood are afi-aid of wounds. Οη the other hand, the peoples of the north,
remote fi-om the sun's heat, are less intelligent, but having a superabundance of blood
are readiest for wars. Recruits should therefore be raised fi-om more temperate climes.
The plenteousness of their blood supplies a contempt for wounds and death, and
intelligence cannot be lacking either, which preserves discipline in camp and is of ηο
little assistance in battle.47
These ideas flowed into the sixth century. Agathias, for example, has Narses warn his army not
to fight the Franks in the winter since it would likely "serve the interest of the Franks, who
thήve in cold conditions and whose power of physical energy and endurance reach their peak
in winter." 48 Noting his likely reliance οη traditional tropes concerning northern barbaήans,
Aveήl Cameron has suggested that Agathias sought to emphasise that while the cold climate
inspired ferocity it also encouraged stupidity.49
111
Nevertheless, we should not take the influence of environmental factors over the social as
the pήmary dynarnic in the creation of ideal men too far. Most ancient wήters did not have the
same qualms as modern acadernics in contradicting themselves. This paradox is apparent in Airs,
where the treatise seerningly undermines its earlier assertions, by proposing that "law" (νόμος)
could create "manliness" (άνδρείόν) in those who do not possess this quality by nature
(φύσις)." 50 Herodotus likewise extolled the vital role that nomos played in the formation of
manly peoples, stressing the importance of fi-ee will for men stήving to display acts of martial
courage. As a result, in these sources, attacks οη masculinity are closely tied to servility. Manly
courage is depicted as a "choice" that can only be made by the man who has the fi-eedom to
51
master his own unruly nature. Ιη Histories, the Greeks' subservience-not to any human
master but to nomos-sets them apart fi-om their Persian counterparts. The contrast between the
Persian forces compelled to batde by their master Xerxes's insatiable appetite for conquest,
versus the Greeks, fighting for their political and personal freedom, represented a pήmary topos
for Herodotus. Nomos, therefore, served as a set of abstract common values that a man could
subrnit to without falling into the realm of efferninacy.
Despite being separated by nearly a thousand years, Herodotus's philosophy οη the nexus
between servitude and a penchant for unmanliness helps us comprehend why, in the sixth
century, Procopius presents the Goth/Italo-Roman relationship as one between a master: the
Goths, and the slaves: the "native" Italians.52 Ιη such a world, the Italo-Romans life under "the
yoke" of Gothic rule made them incapable of protecting themselves or playing a martial
masculine role in defending their ήghts in Italy at all. They are torn between the "true"
Romans from Constantinople and their cuπent masters the Goths, which leads to the deci
mation of the Italo-Romans at the hands of both combatants as the war dragged οη for nearly
two decades.53
Intelligent and Courageous

Ιη spite of the predominantly negative representations of non-Roman people found in the early
Byzantine texts, we can see fi-om some of the previous examples above that the barbaήan people
from the East and the West could be adrnired for displaying masculine qualities like courage and
intelligence. So too, as we see in the case of Agathias's eulogising of the Franks touched οη in
the opening of this chapter, could an acceptance of orthodoxy lead a barbaήan people οη the
pathway to civilised virtue.54 Υet, the rhetoήc of exclusion usually took precedence, and when
represented by early Byzantine wήters, individuals or groups of barbarian men seldom possessed
the proper balance of virtues that comprised masculine Romanness.
Given all this, it is not surprising that being a "real man" in the early Byzantine world
required more than just being a good fighter. One needed to master a range of virtues. Often
this meant that the manliest of Romans was both a φιλόλογος (lover of reason) and a
φιλοπόlεμος (lover of war).55 This sentiment could be applied to nations as well. We observe
this predilection when the fourth-century Emperor Julian (r. 361-363) praised the Germanic
and Celtic peoples for their "fierceness" (θρασείς) and "love of fi-eedom" (φιλελεύθερόν), but
criticised them for their unruliness and lack of wisdom.56 He made it clear that only the ancient
Greeks and Romans were able to combine an unyielding and warlike nature with the in
clination for political life.57
Moreover, while one reads often οη the pages of the classicising histoήans about the authors'
adrniration of the Western barbarians for their "fine physiques," and their "natural and fierce
fighting ability," regularly, these same wήters lampooned the barbaήans for their dull intellects
and inborn recklessness that could limit their effectiveness in combat.58 Echoing ancient
112
physiognomists who had long declared it unmanly to adorn oneself with cosmetics, jewellery,
or delicate clothing,59 these writers also compared barbaήans to women because of their love of
jewellery and other excessive ornamentation. Ιη the third century CE, Herodian, for instance,
likened the Western barbaήans to women for their shared love of "brooches and belts extra
vagantly decked out with gold and precious stones." 60 Υet, in a sign of how Roman masculine
ideals could evolve, we find many Roman soldiers from the late fourth and fifth centuries
adopting these decorative objects as a signifier of their specific martial identity.61
Some late Romans even perceived the barbaήans' "migratory lifeway" as a tell-tale sign of
their overall unstable nature, and part of the reason why these non-Romans made ideal slaves
and engaged in unmanly social practices. Some of this unease dates back to Herodotus, who
related an anecdote whereby the Scythians who captured Ascalon in Palestine "were punished
by the goddess with the infliction of what is called the "female disease," and their descendants
still suffer fi-om it ... The Scythians call those who suffer from it the Enaree (men who dressed
like women and performed the duties associated with women)." Late Roman intellectuals like
Synesius (circa 373-414) used their interpretation of Herodotus's passage οη the Enaree for
their own gendered diatήbes. He wrote: 'Άs to these Scythians [Goths], Herodotus says that
they are all tainted with a feminine malady, and we ourselves see this. These are the men fi-om
whose ranks slaves are recruited everywhere, and who have never owned any land. Hence the
proverb "the Scythian wilderness," for they are always fleeing their own country." 62
Besides the rhetoήcal prejudice, one sees in these examples above both the vaήety of terms
in ancient Greek for"courage," as well as the danger of misinterpretation for the modern reader
who ignores the subtleties of the ancient Greek by lumping all these assorted terms under the
umbrella of the vaguer and less diverse English notion of"courage" or"bravery." The Romans
had inheήted fi-om classical Greek a more nuanced sense of a concept that we often translate
imprecisely into the equivalent English notions of "courage" or "bravery." Despite their
general admiration of the Western barbarians' innate courage, most histoήans fi-om the fifth to
the seventh centuήes adhered to the traditional notion that there was a fine line between
rashness and courage. Ιη ancient Greek, a term like thrasos descήbes either recklessness or
courage. Even when used in a positive sense, thrasos often depicts a more visceral type of
courage (perhaps best represented in English as boldness) than the more aner or male-specific
andreia. Stressing the essential role that fear played in ideal men's cultivation of their manly
courage (andreia), Aήstotle observed that"[T]he courageous man's fears are great and many." 63
As Karen Bassi puts it, here and elsewhere, Aήstotle declares that"the andreios man neither fears
too much or too little." 64 Α man's capacity to maintain this precaήous balance depended largely
upon his ability to suppress his natural urges to either launch a rash attack or turn tail in a
cowardly retreat. It was these types of distinctions that regularly distinguished the manly fi-om
the unmanly and, just as often, the Roman fi-om the barbaήan.
The knack of ruling oneself by repressing one's emotions and urges had long made up an
essential component of Greek and Roman masculinity.65 So, it is not surpήsing that later
Roman and Byzantine wήters expressed the view that Roman men had a greater potential than
either women or barbaήans to overcome humanity's natural instinct to avoid danger.66 Greco
Roman intellectuals portrayed masculinity as an achieved status; boys needed to be made into
men, while girls quite often simply became women. Such restήctiveness helps to explain why
stήct protocols and training for the mind and body needed to be followed for boys to reach
manhood. Duήng his formative peήod, a boy needed to suπound himself with male role
models, who could pass down the necessary knowledge to guide the youth towards the
standards of Roman masculinity. Even an intήnsically male characteήstic like andreia (courage,
manliness) could be developed or honed within the classroom. By the second century CE,
113
groups of Sophists steeped in Greek rhetoric and literature regularly took οη the role as the
"didactic voices" of rnanliness. Joy Connolly contends that: "The education in ars rhetorica
undertaken by Greek and Rornan elites was a powerful cornbination of body-rnind training
that bent all the pupil's powers of ernulation toward the goal of acquiήng the habits, the look,
of a rnanly rnan."67 Nonetheless, the Sophists were not the only "experts" at rnaking rnen in
this era. Α vaήety of training rnethods were available to those interested in shaping a boy's
undeveloped rnasculinity: athletic trainers, rnilitary officers, doctors, physiognornists, philoso
phers, and even drearn interpreters all insisted that their techniques represented the best path to
rnanly perfection.68 Whichever regirne one chose, the wise instructor who functioned as a
conduit to ideal hurnan virtues played a vital role in the creation of rnanly Rornan rnen-a
practice that would continue in Byzantiurn.
The typical barbarian's lack of a "proper" education helps us to cornprehend why, in
contrast to the controlled courage best exernplified by Rornan and Byzantine rnen, foreigners,
in the ancient sources, fi-equently display a rnore pήrneval, undisciplined, and therefore rnore
unreliable type of bravery. For instance, while the Greek histoήan Polybius (circa 203-120
BCE) proclairned that the tenacity of the barbarian Gauls in battle proved that they were equal
to the Rornans in courage, he qualifies this staternent by rnaintaining that the barbaήans' ardour
tended to wane if their first fi-enzied onslaughts failed to overwhelrn their enernies. Polybius
advised his readers that civilised peoples could defeat these terήfying hordes by depending οη
"the resolution and the ability of rnen who faced the danger with intelligence and cool cal
culation."69 We find a sirnilar sentirnent in Agathias, where he descήbes the Rornan ally
Phulcaήs the Herul as not only "brave/manly (άνδρειος)" and "fearless in battle (πολέμιον [ ... ]
δεμαίνειν) but also wild and impetuous (θρασύς δέ καί ταραχώδης)," which rnade hirn an un
reliable cornrnander. Instead of relying οη tactics and pre-battle preparation typical of Rornan
generals, according to Agathias, Phulcaris prefeπed to charge blindly into battle. Ιη the end,
Phulcaήs's courageous but unthinking leadership style leads to his contingent of Heruls falling
into a trap laid by the Franks. It is likely ηο coincidence, that Agathias descήbes the arnbush
sight as an old Rornan arnphitheatre used forrnerly "for the perforrnance of wild beasts."
Agathias's vivid descήption of Phulcaris's last stand, evokes irnages of a brave but unthinking
beast in the arena, putting up an adrnirable, yet ultirnately futile fight.70
Bestial Courage
By deploying bestial rnetaphors Agathias echoed older rhetorical traditions that posited that like
slaves, barbaήans stood rnuch nearer than the civilised Greeks and Rornans to the rnargins that
separated hurnans fi-orn the other lesser anirnals. Sorne of the Byzantines's convictions con
cerning the infeήority of barbaήan peoples rnay hark back to Aήstotle's perception of different
levels of hurnanity, based οη his theory that-just like other anirnals-rnen frorn different
cultures and social backgrounds exhibited varying degrees of cornpleteness or perfectiveness.71
This bigotry helps us understand why the Greeks and the Rornans by tradition depicted the
barbarian peoples as "wild beasts" (τό θηρίον, bestiae). Metaphors relating barbaήan peoples to
anirnals infuse rnany Late Rornan texts. Eusebius praised Constantine I for having "repulsed and
chased [the barbaήans] off his terήtory like wild beasts, when he saw that they were incurably
resistant to change to a gentle life."72 The Chήstian poet Prudentius farnously rernarked that
"there is as a great difference between a Rornan and a barbaήan as between a quadruped and a
biped [ ... ]."73 Wήting around the sarne tirne as Prudentius, Arnrnianus descήbed the Huns as
"ugly beasts" and barely hurnan.74 The Huns's reputation for a particularly anirnalistic nature
would follow thern into the fifth and sixth centuήes. Jordanes wields bestial rnetaphors in his
114
vivid depiction of Attila's seething anger after the bloody draw at the battle of the Catalaunian
Plains in 451, as"like a lion pierced by hunting spears, who paces to and fi-o before the mouth
of his den and dares not spήng but ceases not to terήfy the neighbourhood by his roaήng."75
Such depictions allowed these wήters to reassure their audience. By revealing to their readers
that much of the barbarians' boldness in battle was brought οη by wild desperation, and an
animalistic lack of self-mastery, they could comfort their audience by revealing that much of
these foreigners' martial prowess was based οη more instinctive and therefore infeήor types of
courage. The irascible behaviour of the barbaήans represented the opposite of Roman models
of masculinity based οη a civilised man's ability to control his natural impulses. lmpulsive
courage, therefore, differs from the controlled courage of the man who uses his reason (λόγος)
to command his passions. This state of "passionlessness" (άπάθεια) represented one of Stoic
philosophy's paramount goals. Hagit Amirav has astutely observed that the Stoics believed that
any violent emotion or passion like anger differed in rational and irrational men. 'Άnger" had
nuanced meanings, he argues, "bestial anger is not anger, but only an impulse, since animals do
not have reason and therefore their apparent anger cannot be the result of a temporaήly de
fective λόγος."76
These ideas receive heavy rotation in Agathias's history. His and other Byzantine historians'
emphasis οη the rational courage of"true" Roman soldiers may not only be rhetoήcal flouήsh
but also perhaps a sign of a pushback against what some have proposed was the late Roman
armies' conscious adoption of non-Roman ethnographic constructions of identity fi-om the
fourth century, which increasingly embraced raw courage and animalistic imagery as a way to
further differentiate themselves fi-om the civilian bureaucracy.77 Further to this point, Vedran
Bileta posits that "[t]he 'animal' imagery used in naming and depicting the auxilia palatina, as
well as some of the elite praesental field army units, could be perceived as a deliberate construct
created within the late impeήal army as part of the redefinition of Late Roman identities
following the separation of military and civil service."78
As we observed in the opening of this chapter, in Agathias's opinion, it was the Romans'
unique combination of brains and brawn that made them better fighters than the barbaήans.
Indeed, barbarians were often depicted by the ancient authors as innately brave, but their
courage was often guided by rash impulses.79 With this belief in mind, let us turn to a pre-battle
address Agathias has Belisaήus deliver to his soldiers, where the general speaks at length οη what
he sees as the subtle but vital differences between the Romans'"intellectual" bravery and what
he sees as the barbaήan's more viceralcourage.80 Nearing 60 years of age, the gήzzled general
opens by explaining to the rag-tag army he had rustled up to defend Constantinople against the
Huns in 559, that his speech will not be the typical one where a commander seeks to "calm
their fear or raise their morale." He acknowledges that a large part of his force consisted of
hastily conscήpted peasants and civilian Constantinopolitans. Fortunately, however, it also
contained a number of veterans fi-omJustinian's wars, who as Belisarius puts it"had demolished
some of the mightiest empires of the earth" and therefore did not fear "a gang of barbarian
vagabonds (βαρβάρους άλήτας)." Instead, he strove to quell their overconfident ardour, "since
their superior courage (ύμετέρας άνδρείας)" was matched by the enemies'"supeήor numbers." So
too, he cautions, should they be woπied about the vagaries of chance, which in his past ex
peήences had undone the endeavours of even the bravest of men. He further warns, "that
unreflecting endeavour is not to be attributed to the generous impulses rif cσurage (άνδρείας
όρμαις) but to the foolhardy and wrong-headed audacity (ρονήσεως έγχειρήσεις)." Νevertheless, he
continues, "the practice of consideήng carefully how one ought to tackle a problem does not
engender cσwardice (δελίαν) and hesitation but creates a responsible and seήous attitude." He
then advises the soldiers"to purge their angιy feelings (του θυμου) or any elements or iπational
115
fury or instinctive urge to react violently regardless of the consequences [ ...] instead they should
hone their anger, retaining only the good qualities associated with such feelings-fearlessness,
resolution, and the will to fight back." Agathias concludes that Belisaήus' speech had "a so
beήng effect upon the veteran soldiers, who lost none of their manliness (ανδρείας) but there
was then less conceit (γαυρουμένου) and more cautiσn (εύλαβούμενον) in their attitude.81
Highlighting the dual Greek and Roman inheήtance ofJustinian's Empire, Agathias concludes
by compaήng the courage ofBelisaήus and his soldiers to that of "Leonidis and his Spartans at
Thermopylae." Yet, in Agathias's telling, it wasBelisaήus's supeήor intelligence that had been
the determining factor in the outnumbered East Romans' defeat of the barbaήans.82
Recognising his inferior numbers,Belisaήus had instructed his rag-tag allotment of peasants and
civilians to raise a din by shouting and clanking pieces of wood behind the Roman lines while
his more seasoned soldiers ambushed the enemy. The combination of the non-combatants'
noisy ruckus combined with their inadvertent creation of a large dust cloud, which the bar
baήans misinterpreted to be Belisaήus's main force, caused the enemy to flee in teπor. Το
boπow Agathias's own words, Belisarius's soldiers then "followed them in an orderly and
disciplined pursuit, making short work of all they could lay their hands οη [ ...] Ενeη the great
skill (horse-archery) οη which they pήde themselves so greatly deserted them in their hour of
teπor." 83
Procopius grapples with similar themes when describing the Goths and East Romans in the
Italian theatre. Procopius does indeed consistently descήbe the Gothic enemy as courageous,
but sometimes it is a bravery based οη rashness, rather than the controlled masculinity displayed
by the East Roman army. There are exceptions to this rule, of which the Gothic Κing Totila (r.
541-552), is a prominent one.84 Yet, in Book 8 of Wars, published three to four years after
Book 7, Procopius offers a less flatteήng treatment of Totila.
As naπated by Procopius, at the fateful battle ofBusta Gallorum in 552, the innate courage
of the Goths and their king Totila were of little worth when faced by the well-supplied and
supremely confident East Romans. Ιη an account that hardly flatters the Gothic king's gen
eralship, Totila predictably opens the battle by launching a desperate cavalry charge against the
well-disciplined Romans, which exposes the Goths to the witheήng fire of the Roman archers
deployed οη the Goths's flanks. Procopius recounts vividly the resulting carnage, in which
Totila and the bulk of the Gothic army are killed. Procopius places culpability for the defeat
squarely at the Gothic king's feet, declaήng that Totila's foolish decision to equip his army only
with spears contributed heavily to the defeat. Procopius concludes that "Totila was out
generaled by his own bad planning." 85 Totila behaves at the end like an archetypal
barbarian-he is courageous and admirable, yet his overconfidence leads to his eventual
defeat.86
Ενeη though the boundaήes between the Romans and those labelled barbaήans had become
more permeable in the fifth and sixth centuries CE, by applying active gendeήng not only to
individuals, but also to entire peoples, wήters like Agathias and Procopius both created and
maintained a hierarchy between Romans and non-Romans. As we have discussed, some of this
may be a product of impeήal propaganda duήngJustinian's reconquista, which sought to create
a sharp oppositional division among well-defined groups such as Goths and Vandals-and those
perceived to be "native" Italians/ North Afήcans and/or Romans of old.
The increasing capability of the sixth-century East Roman army to dictate terms to the
barbarians furthermore seems to have restored theByzantines's sense of exceptionalism, which
offers a further explanation for an emphasis in sixth-century histoήography of a greater de
marcation between Romans and non-Romans. The former should either be dήνeη fi:-om
"Roman" soil, be forced to resettle in and around Constantinople, or be integrated into the
116
Byzantine army to serve οη fi-onts far removed from their former native lands.87 Only through
the East Roman soldiers' superior martial and manly virtues could such policies succeed.
Nevertheless, in the Age of Justinian "Roman" and "barbarian" remained very pliable ca
tegoήes. The irony that many of the soldiers inJustinian's arrnies were non-Romans, and hence
"barbaήans," did not escape the notice of everyone. As we saw in the introduction to this
handbook, near the close of the Wars (8.28.2), Procopius has a Gothic commander describe
Narses's army as a "heterogeneous horde of barbarians." Procopius, moreover, recognised that
Justinian's rnilitary successes against those he considered barbaήans were due in large part to the
role of mounted archers, often of Hunnic origins, who played a fundamental role during the
88
Gothic War.
So too did changing political climate in the second half of the sixth century shape the way
the relationship between Romans and non-Romans could be portrayed. As Averil Cameron
underlined long ago, it is likely not a coincidence that Agathias's eulogising portrait of the
Franks touched οη at the opening of this chapter was wήtten at a time (early 570s) when the
East Romans' gήp οη Italy was failing and the emperor Justin 11 (r. 565-574) was hoping to
make an alliance with the Franks. With this new political alliance likely in the works at the time
he was composing his history, Agathias naturally sought to counter the hostile vision of the
Franks as typical barbarians embraced by his predecessor Procopius. 89
Conclusion
Barbaήans often played the same role in the early Byzantine literary texts as women and
boys-groups that also supposedly lacked the physical and emotional control that were per
ceived to be fundamental qualities of manly Romanitas. Just as the sperm in the womb might
become tainted by dήfting into the ferninine realm, a man separated fi-om the regulation of
Roman masculine ideology could easily wander into the temptation of an undisciplined, and
therefore an efferninate existence.90 Somewhat ironically, only by subrnitting to Rome's
masculine imperium could barbaήan men then begin to break down some of the barήers that had
prevented them fi-om attaining both civilisation and "true" manliness.
We find evidence of this view when Byzantine texts descήbe the halcyon days ofJustinian's
"conquest" of the lost Western Roman provinces and defeat of the forrnidable barbaήan Goths
and Vandals.91 Agathias descήbed it as a time when "Sicily, Rome, and Italy cast off the yoke of
foreign dornination and were restored to their ancient way of life."92 Here, like generations of
barbaήans before them, the martial Vandals and Goths had fought the good fight but subrnitted to
the exemplars of rnid-sixth century Romanness: Justinian and Belisaήus. Many educated
Byzantines would have been only too happy to embrace such a view that supported the old status
quo of Roman over non-Roman. From our modern vantage point, such patronizing views of
foreign peoples as imperfect realisations of a Roman ideal, appear not only racist but somewhat
ήdiculous, since we know that the Justinianic reconquest ultimately failed to reintegrate the
former Western provinces permanendy back into the "Roman" fold and, in fact, only accelerated
the evaporation of a sense of Roman identity in an increasingly post-impeήal West. Moreover, as
several chapters fi-om this cuπent handbook demonstrate, it unquestionably offers an undeveloped
vision of what was a much more complex reality across the wider sixth-century Mediteπanean
world. Nonetheless, when piecing together Byzantium's attitudes towards foreign peoples in the
fifth and sixth centuήes, the perseverance of Roman exceptionalism found in much of the early
Byzantine secular literature is also an essential part of the story. 1 would suggest that it, and other
examples of early Byzantine rhetoήc denigrating barbaήans found in this chapter, offers an in
structive glimpse of the "perfect" world of an influential segment of Constantinople's elite. Their
117
Roman world was a more traditional and ordered place than the messy reality that soldiers could
confi-ont οη the ground. Ιη this more "pleasant" realm, as they had done down through the ages,
barbaήan peoples who possessed virtus or andreia lost it when they confi-onted the manlier
Romans fi-om Constantinople in batde.
Notes
Agathias, 'Ήistoήes 2.12.6," in Agathiae Mirynaei Historiarum libri quinque, ed. Rudolfus Keydell
(Berlin: De Gruyter, 1967); trans. (modified) Joseph Frendo, Agathias: The Histories (Berlin: De
Gruyter, 1975), aίσχρόν τοίνυν ί\μας, ώ Ιiνδρες 'Ρωμαιοι, ταύτό παθειν τοις βαρβάροις καί μή
τοσοί\τον ταις γνώμαις αυτών περιειναι, όπόσον τfi ρώμn.
2 For the elasticity and multi-layered nature of Roman identity, see Walter Pohl, Clemens Gantner,
Cinzia Gήfoni, and Maήanne Pollheimer-Mohaupt, eds., Transformations of Romanness: Early Medieval
Regions and Identities (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2018).
3 Agathias, Histories 2.12.2 (trans. Frendo), συγγενές γαρ ήμίν καί πάτριον κρατείν άεί των πολεμίων.
Though it lies largely outside of the scope of this current paper, Agathias's notion of just which group
or individuals were "Roman" offers some key insights into the malleability ofRoman identity in the
mid-sixth century. Compared to his histoήographical model and predecessor, Procopius, Agathias
displays a more restήcted sense ofRoman identity, generally reserving it for those who served or lived
in the lands ruled by the East Roman Emperor, οη this selective definition, see Dallas Deforest,
'Άgathias οη Italy, the Italians and the Gothic War," Estudios Bizantinos 8 (2020): 61-81. And for
Procopius's views οη the "native" Italians continuing Roman identity, see Michael Stewart, "The
Danger of the Soft Life: Manly and Unmanly Romans in Procopius's Gothic War," JLA 10.2 (2017):
473-502, and for Procopius's views of native Romans in vandalic North Afήca, see Andy Merrills's
chapter in this volume.
4 Aveήl Cameron's ('Άgathias οη the Early Merovingians," Annali della Scuola No=ale Supeήore di
Pisa. Lettere, Stoήa e Filosofia, Seήe ΙΙ, 37, 1/2 [1968]: 95-140) lucid analysis is still fundamental οη
Agathias's efforts to differentiate the Franks from other barbaήan peoples by presenting them a virtuous,
civilized-and most importandy-'Όrthodox" Chήstian people with more similar to the EastRomans
than differences. She makes the further point, however, that when discussing other non-Roman peoples
Agathias's sticks to far more hostile characterisations based οη his sense of Roman exceptionalism.
5 For this common view in Procopius and other laterRoman and early Byzantine writers, seeJonathan
Conant, Staying Roman: Conquest and Identity in Africa and the Mediterranean, 439-700 (Cambridge:
CUP, 2012), 258. For cήticisms of Agathias's history for its elaborate rhetorical constructs, see
Salvatore Constanza, Agathiae Myrinaei Historiarum libri quinque (Messina: Universita degli studi, 1969);
Averil Cameron, Agathias (Oxford: CP, 1970), 30-58.
6 Agathias, Histories 5.12.6, 5.19.1.
7 For a recent summation of Agathias's literary career and biography, see Steven Smith, Greek Epigram
and Byzantine Culture: Gender, Desire, and Denial in the Age ofJustinian (Cambήdge: CUP, 2019).
8 See now Matthias Fήedήch andJames Μ. Harland, eds. Interrogating the "Germanic": Α Category and Its
Use in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2020).
9 E.g., Kate Cooper, "Gender and the Fall ofRome," in Α Companion to Late Antiquity, ed. Ρ.Rousseau
(Oxford: Blackwell, 2009), 187-99; Matthew Kuefler, "Between Bishops and Barbarians: TheRulers
of the LaterRoman Empire," in The Palgrave Handbook of Masculinity and Political Culture in Europe, eds.
C. Fletcher, S. Brady, R. Moss and L. Riall (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2018), 37-62.
10 For a censure of scholars who continue to rely uncήtically οη te=s like "barbarian," see Michael
Kulikowski, "The Marήage of Philology andRace: Constructing the 'Ge=anic'," in Interrogating the
"Germanic". Α Category and Its Use in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages, eds. Μ. Friedrich andJ.
Harland (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2020), 19-30.
11 Mathew Kuefler, The Manly Eunuch: Masculinity, Gender Ambiguity, and Christian Ideology in Late
Antiquity (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001), 3; Raewyn Connell, Masculinities (Berkeley:
UCP, 1995) 76-86. For the heated debates surrounding the usefulness of ethnicity to understand
identities in the late ancient world see Pohl, 'Ίntroduction: Early Medieval Romanness-A Multiple
Identity," in Pohl et al., here 26-30.
12 Arthur Eckstein, Moral Vision in the Histories of Polybius (Berkeley, CA: UCP, 1995), 119-25. Craig
Williams, Roman Homosexuality: Ideologies of Masculinity in Classical Antiquity (Oxford: OUP, 1999),
118
132-7; Kuefler, Manly Eunuch, 47-9, 285-6; Myles McDonnell, Roman Manliness: Virtus and the
Roman Republic (Cambήdge: CUP, 2006), 159---61.
13 Henning Borm (Pers. Comms.)
14 Jo-Ann Shelton, As the Romans Did: Α Sourcebook in Roman Social History (Oxford: OUP, 1998),
163-74.
15 Pohl et al., 'Έarly Medieval Romanness," 24.
16 For example, Rebecca Langlands (Sexual Morality in Ancient Rome [Cambridge: CUP, 2006], 319-63)
has demonstrated persuasively that Tacitus's (circa 56 CE-120 CE) description of the pudicitia of the
Germanic tribes did not to descήbe reality but instead served to point out the Roman's impudicitia.
17 Walter Goffart, Barbarian Tides: The Migration Age and the Later Roman Empire (Philadelphia: UPP,
2006), 192.
18 Roland Steinacher, Die Vandalen. Aufttieg und Fall eines Barbarenreichs (Stuttgart: Κlett-Cotta, 2016), 17.
19 Ambrose, Epist. 1.24.8; Zosimus, New History 4.53.
20 Cf. the negative image of Stilicho, see Orosius, Against the Pagans 7.38. For positive a postive as
sessment of Stilicho, see Claudian.
21 Roger Blockley, The Fragmentary Classicising Historians of the Later Roman Empire: Eunapius,
Olympiodorus, Priscus and Malchus (Liverpool: Francis Cairns, 1981), 92-4; J.A.S. Evans, Procopius (New
York: Twayne Publishers, 1972), 92-3.
22 For the factual basis of Procopius's ethnographic depictions, see Alexander Sarantis, "Procopius and the
Different Type of Northern Barbarians," in The World of Procopius, eds. G. Greatrex and S. Janniard
(Paήs: de Boccard, 2018), 355-78; Geoffrey Greatrex, "Procopius' Attitude Towards Barbarians," in
G. Greatrex et al., 327-54.
23 Οη this shift in Justinianic propaganda after the Byzantine's triumphs over the Vandals, see Mischa
Meier, Das andere Zeitalter Justinians (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2003), 150-65.
24 Guy Halsall, "Transformations of Romanness: The Northern Gallic Case," in Pohl et al., 41-59,
here 53.
25 See also, Michael Edward Stewart, Masculinity, Identity and Power Politics in the Age ofJustinian: Α Study
of Procopius (Amsterdam: AUP, 2020).
26 For a more detailed discussion, see Michael Edward Stewart, The Soldier's Life: Martial Virtues and
Hegemonic Masculinity in the Early Byzantine Empire (Leeds: Κismet Press), esp. 43-90.
27 Williams, Roman Homosexuality, 135.
28 Conant, Staying Roman, 261.
29 Ammianus, Res Gestae 14.6.3, trans. John C. Rolfe, LCL, 3 vols. (Cambήdge, ΜΑ: HUP, 1935,
reprint 2005).
30 Michael Maas, "Strabo and Procopius," in From Rome to Constantinople: Studies in Honour of Averil
Cameron, eds. Η. Amirav and Β. Haar Romney (Leuven: Peeters, 2007), 71-5.
31 Agathias, Histories, 4.8.5, trans. Frendo.
32 Οη the increased use of non-Roman soldiers in the later empire, see Pat Southern and Karen Ramsey
Dixon, The Late Roman Army (New Haven: YUP, 1996), 48-50, 67-73; Wolf Liebeschuetz, Barbarians
and Bishops: Army, Church, and State in the Age of Arcadius and Ch rysostom (Oxford: CP, 1990), 20-1.
Countered by Michael Whitby, 'Έmperors and Armies," in Approaching Late Antiquity: The
Transformationfrom Early to Late Empire, eds. S. Swain and Μ. Edwards (Oxford: OUP, 2004), 156-86
at 166-73; Doug Α. Lee, War in Late Antiquity: Α Social History (Oxford: Blackwell, 2007), 81-5. For
the use of non-Roman soldiers in the early Empire, see Michael Speidel, Ridingfor Caesar: The Roman
Emperors' Horse Guard (Cambridge: CUP, 1994).
33 David Parnell, "Barbarians and Brothers-in-Arms: Byzantines οη Barbarian Soldiers in the Sixth
Century," ΒΖ 108/2 (2015): 809-26.
34 Οη the cultural similarities between the Byzantines and the Vandals, see Conant, Staying Roman,
259-60, and among the Goths and the Italo-Romans, and Byzantines, see Guy Halsall, "The
Ostrogothic Military," in Α Companion to Ostrogothic Italy, eds. J. Arnold, M.S. Bjornlie and Κ. Sessa
(Leiden: Brill, 2016), 173-99, at 193-4.
35 For the modern controversies over the use of the term "science" in Byzantium, see Stavros Lazaris, ed.
Α Companion to Byzantine Science (Leiden: Bήll, 2019), 3-5. And for the Byzantines ongoing de
pendence οη classical Greco-Roman texts for their thinking about gender more generally, see Neville's
chapter in this current volume.
36 Οη the prominence of selected treatises from Hippocratic Collection and Galen's writings in the
curήculum of Byzantine medical schools, see John Dufiy, "Byzantine Medicine in the Sixth and
119
Seventh Centuήes: Aspects of Teaching and Practice," DOP 38 (1984): 21-7 at 21. Οη the continuing
influence of Hippocrates, Aήstode, and Galen in early and MiddleByzantium, see Leonora Νeville,
Byzantine Gender (Leeds: Arc Humanities Press, 2019), 24. For some innovative aspects ofByzantine
scientific thinking, see Lazaήs, Byzantine Science, 6-18.
37 Sarah Harrell, "Marvelous Andreia: Politics, Geography, and Ethnicity in Herodotus' Histories," in
Andreia: Studies in Manliness and Courage in Classical Antiquity, in Rosen et al., 77-94 at 86.
38 The extent of Hippocrates's (circa 460BCE-370BCE) contήbution and exact date of Airs, Waters,
Places composition remains disputed, though most scholars attribute it to Hippocrates or one of his
followers, see Geoffrey E.R. Lloyd, "The Hippocratic Question," CQ 25 (1975): 171-92.
39 Hippocrates, Airs, Waters, Places 12, quoted in Harrell, "Marvelous Andreia," 87: τό δέ άνδρείον καi. τό
ταλαίπωρον καi. τό εμπονον καi. τό θυμοειδές ούκ αν δύναιτο έν τοιαύτη φύσει έγγίνεσθαι ούτε
όμοφύλου ούτε άλλοφύλου, άλλα την ήδονήν άνάγκη κρατείν...
40 Hippocrates, Airs, Waters, Places 23, trans. W.H.S. Jones, LCL, 8 vols. (Cambridge: HUP, 1923,
reprint 1972).
41 Harrell, "Marvelous Andreia," 87, nt. 36, contends that Herodotus's Histories and the treatise did not
have "a direct relationship" but both utilised "earlier ethnographic works linking climate and
character."
42 Herodotus, Histories 1.71, trans.Betty Radice (London: Penguin, 1972).
43 Herodotus, Histories 9.122. Quoted and trans. in Harrell, "Marvelous Andreia," 87.
44 Harrell, "Marvelous Andreia," 86.
45 The most famous of these, Galen (circa 129-200), wrote a commentary οη Airs, Waters, Places, but the
oήginal Greek version of commentary is lost. However, Hunayn ibn Ishaq (809-873) in ninth century
Baghdad translated it into Syήac for the court physician, Salmawayh ibnBunan, of the caliph al-Mu'tasim
bi-llah (r. 833-842). For Agathias's familiaήty with Galen, see Begnoa Ortega Villaro, "Some
Characteήstics of theWorks of Agathias: Morality and Satire," Acta Antiqua 50 (2010): 267-87 at 277-78.
46 Arrian, Anabasis rif Alexander 2.7.5, trans. Ρ.Α. Brunt, modified. LCL, 2 vols. (Cambήdge, ΜΑ:
HUP, 1929).
rif
47 Vegitius, Epitome Military Science 1.2, trans. Ν.Ρ. Milner (Liverpool: LUP, 1993).
48 Agathias, Histories 1.19.2.
49 Cameron, 'Άgathias οη the Early Merovingians," 129-30.
50 Hippocrates, Airs, Waters, Places 24, quoted in Harrell, "Marvelous Andreia," 87, nt. 37.
51 E.g., Herodotus, Histories 7.107; Plato, Republic, 579a.
52 For Herodotus's influence οη Procopius, see Jessica Moore, "Procopius of Caesarea and Historical
Memory in the Sixth Century," PhD thesis (University ofWisconsin, 2014). Moreover, the rhetoric
of freedom was ubiquitous in sixth-century Italy, see e.g., John Moorhead, "Libertas and Nomen
Romanorum in Ostrogothic Italy," Latomus, XLVI (1987): 161-8, and Marco Cήstini, "La 'libertas'
nell'Italia del VI secolo, in Libertas. Secoli Χ-ΧΙΙΙ [Le Settimane Internazionali della Mendola. Nuova
Seήe, 6], a cura di Ν. D'Acunto e Ε. Filippini (Milan, 2019), 215-29.
53 Full discussion in Stewart, "Danger of the Soft Life," 473-502.
54 Αν. Cameron, 'Άgathias οη the Early Merovingians," 129-30
55 For these two traits as essential qualities for a model Late Roman emperor to have, see, Themistius. Or.
4.54a. This belief is linked to Plato's depiction in the Republic of the idealised philosopher-king: Plato,
Republic 521d, 525b, 543a. For the influence of the Republic on Late Roman and Byzantine in
tellectuals, see Anthony Kaldellis, Procopius of Caesarea: Tyranny, History, and Philosophy at the End of
Antiquity (Philadelphia: UPP, 2004), 106-17. For intellectual or Hellenistic virtues as essential com
ponents of Roman masculine self-fashioning in the Early Empire, see McDonnell, Roman Manliness,
384-89; Maud Gleason, Making Men Sophists and Self-Presentation in Ancient Rome (Pήnceton: PUP,
1995), 2-21.
56 Julian, Against the Galileans, 116 Α, trans.Wilmer C.Wήght, LCL, 3 vols. (Cambridge, ΜΑ: HUP,
1923, repήnt 2003).
57 Julian, Against the Galileans, 116 Α:'Έλληνας δέ καi. 'Ρωμαίους ώς έπίπαν πολιτικούς καi.
φιλανθρώπους μετά του στερρου τε καi. πολεμικού, συνετωτέρους δέ καi. τεχνικωτέρους Αιγυπτίους,
άπολέμους δέ καi. τρυφηλούς Σύρους μετά του συνετού καi. θερμού καi. κούφου καi. εύμαθους.
58 Herodian, Basileia Historia 2.9.11, trans. C.R. Whittaker, LCL, 2 vols. (Cambήdge, ΜΑ: HUP,
1969-70).
59 Maud Gleason, "The Semiotics of Gender: Physiognomy of Self-Fashioning in the Second Century
120
C.E.," in Bifore Sexuality: The Construction cif Erotic Experience in the Ancient Greek World, eds. D.
Halperin,J. Winkler and F. Zeitlin (Pήnceton: PUP, 1990), 399-402.
60 Herodian, Basileia Historia 5.2.4.
61 Οη this shift in military dress, see Mary Harlow, "Clothes Maketh the Man: Power Dressing and Elite
Masculinity in the Later Roman World," in Gender in the Early Medieval World: East and West,
300-900, eds. L. Brubaker andJ.M.H. Smith (Cambridge: CUP 2004), 44-69.
62 Herodotus, Histories 1.105.
63 Aήstotle, ΕΕ 1228b: ώστε συμβαίνει τόν άνδρείον μεγάλους φόβους καί πολλούς ποιείσθαι.
64 Karen Bassi, "The Semantics of Manliness in Ancient Greece," in Rosen et al., 52-3. For Aristode's
continuing influence in Byzantine philosophy and science, see Nicholas Moutafakis, Byzantine
Philosophy (Indianapolis: Hackett, 2003), 20.
65 Michel Foucault, The Use cif Pleasure: The History of Sexuality Volume 2, trans. Robert Hurley (New
Υork: Vintage, 1990), 63-5.
66 Joseph Roisman, "The Rhetoήc of Courage in the Athenian Orators," in Rosen et al., 127-43 at 127.
67 Joy Connolly, "Like the Labors of Heracles: Andreia and Paideia in Greek Culture under Rome," in
Rosen et al., 287-317 at 287, 328.
68 Οηηο Van Nijf, 'Άthletics, Andreia and the Askesis-Culture in the Roman East," in Rosen et al.,
263-86 at 283.
69 Polybius, The Histories 2.30-35, trans. Mortimer Chambers (New York: Twayne, 1966).
70 Agathias, Histories 1.14.3-7. Cf. 4.20.7, where Agathias descήbes the Misimians as adrnitting that they
had here acted "with the characteristic recklessness of barbarians."
71 For this concept in the writings of Aristotle see, Marguerite Deslauήers, 'Άήstotle οη Andreia, Divine
and Sub-Human Virtues," in Rosen et al., 187-211, at 192-6.
72 Eusebius, Life of Constantine 1.25.1, eds. and trans. Cameron and Hall, quoted in Kuefler, "Bishops and
Barbarians," 47.
73 Prudentius, Contra Symmachum, 2, 816-7, trans. H.J. Thomson, LCL, vol. 2 (Cambridge, ΜΑ: HUP,
1953, reprint 2005): Sed tantum distant Romana et barbara, quantum / quadrupes abiuncta est bipedi [ ...].
74 Roger C. Blockley, The Fragmentary Classicising Historians cif the Later Roman Empire: Eunapius,
Olympiodorus, Priscus, and Malchus, vol. 1 (Liverpool: Francis Cairns, 1983), 92. Ammianus Marcellinus,
Res gestae 16.5.17.
75 Jordanes, Getica 40, trans. Mierow, 65-6, quoted in Kuefler, "Bishops and Barbaήans," 47.
76 Hagit Amirav, 'Άmmianus Stoicus: Reflections οη Rulership, Tyranny and Power in the Res Gestae,"
in From Rome to Constantinople: Studies in Honour of Averil Cameron, eds. Η. Amirav and Bas ter Haar
Romney (Leuven: Peeters, 2007), 98.
77 Patήck Amory, People and Identity in Ostrogothic Italy: 489-554 (Cambridge: CUP, 1997), 26-8; Guy
Halsall, "Gender and the End of Empire," ]ournal cif Medieval and Early Modern Studies, 34.1 (2004):
17-40, here 22.
78 Vedran Bileta, "The Last Legions: The Barbaήzation of Military Identity in the Late Roman West,"
Tabula 14 (2016): 22-42, here 35.
79 Agathias, Histories 2.22.5.
80 Ιη these later sections of his history, Agathias offers a vision of an East Roman army that had declined
markedly due toJustinian's neglect in the late 550s. It has even been suggested recendy that an anti-war
theme undergirds Agathias's wήting more generally, and that he was anti-offensive or impeήal war, e.g.,
Deforest, 'Άgathias οη Italy, Italians, and Warfare," 61-81. This interpretation is unconvincing. While
the text advocates some nonmilitant views, οη the whole there is much more abundant pro-war and pro
impeήal sentiment in Agathias's work. Ι will suggest in a futrure paper, that Agathias suggests throughout
his history that peace would only be possible when and if the Romans' military strength was renewed
and the barbaήans cowed, and hence the Romans "natural" dominion over non-Romans restored.
81 Agathias, Histories 5.17-19.l(trans. Frendo, modified).
82 Agathias, Histories 5.19.1 (trans. Frendo, modified). One big difference of course, is that in Herodotus's
account, Leonidis and his 300 soldiers had sacrificed themselves at the Batde of Thermopylae (490
BCE) to slow-down the advance of the Persian army and buy the Greek forces some needed time. It is
possible that Agathias sought to further praise Belisarius by revealing that he relied not only οη his raw
courage, but his brains to avoid a similar massacre of his own soldiers.
83 Agathias, Histories 5.19.11-12 (trans. Frendo).
84 For Procopius's praise of the "civilised" qualities and andreia of the seminal Ostrogothic rex Theoderic
121
and his daughter, Queen Amalasuintha, see Michael Edward Stewart, "Contests of Andreia in
Procopius' Gothic Wars," Parekbolai 4 (2014): 21-54.
85 Procopius, Wars 8.32.7 (trans. Kaldellis, modified), διό δή Τουτίλαν προς της άβουλίας
καταστρατηγηθηναι της αύτού ξυνηνέχθη. For this trope of the "steady" Roman, Narses, versus the
"rash" barbaήan, Totila, in Procopius's account of Busta Gallorum, see Philip Rance, "Narses and the
Batde of Taginae (Busta Gallorum) 552: Procopius and Sixth-Century Warfare," Historia 54 (2005):
424-72 at 426.
86 Halsall, "The Ostrogothic Military," 195-9.
87 As argued by Walter Goffart (Barbarian Tides, 94-6), who uses Procopius's account of the Herules to
make the larger claim that Procopius wanted to expel all the barbaήans from the Roman Empire. Οη
the integration of defeated enemies into Justinian's armies and reassignment to foreign fronts, see
Vandals (Procopius, Wars 4.14.17-18) and Goths (Wars 2.18.24-25), Persians (Wars 2.19.24-25 and
7.3.11). Moors (Wars 5.5.4, 5.25.9, 6.23.36-9; 7.18.26-8). Οη the Gothic and Vandalic ruling classes
resettlement in and around Constantinople, see Procopius, Wars 4.9.13-14, 5.8.1-3, 7.1.1-2.
Marcellinus, Chron s.a. 534, 536, 540.
88 Sylvain Janniard, "Les adaptations de l'armee romaine aux modes de combat des peuples des steppes
(fin IVe-debut Vle siecle apr. J.-C.)," in Governare e riformare l'impero al momento della sua divisione, eds.
U. Roberto and L. Mecella (Rome: Publications de l'Ecole franς:aise de Rome, 2015), 1-34; Clemens
Koehn, Justinian und die Armee des fruhen Byzanz (Berlin: Beck, 2018), 115-45.
89 Cameron, 'Άgathias οη the Early Merovingians," 137-9. Cameron pinpoints an Austrasian embassy to
Constantinople in 571 for the political context in which wrote his digression οη the Franks.
90 Some Roman thinkers supposed that the left side of the uterus held "feminine" traits, while the right
side held the "masculine" ones. Α female seed that dήfted towards the ήght, could therefore gain some
manly characteήstics, while a male seed floating to the left might capture some feminine ones. This
concept is best represented in the wήtings of the early fourth-century Christian writer Lactantius (De
opijicio de 12.12-3), who, as Kuefler (Manly Eunuch, 21) points out, though not a physician, related "a
belief that we can imagine was shared by his contemporaήes."
91 E.g., Jordanes, Get. 315 (quoted in Arnold's chapter in this volume); John Lydus, De mag. 3.55.
92 Agathias, Histories Preface, 30.
122
7
SOME CONSIDERATIONS ΟΝ
BARBARIAN ETHNICITY ΙΝ LAΤΕ
ANTIQUITY
Robert Kasperski
Anyone who follows modern debates about ethnicity and group identities in Late Antiquity will
1
quickly conclude that views have largely been polarised. Οη one hand, there are those who
claim that ethnicity did not play a major role in "transforming the Roman world" in the peήod
from the fifi:h to the eighth century. Moreover, they believe that the term "ethnicity" itself is an
2
anachronism in relation to this period. Οη the other hand, there are scholars who believe that
ethnicity was an essential factor in the transformation of the post-Roman world into early
medieval kingdoms. According to the latter, ethnogenesis was one of the main processes taking
place in the post-Roman successor kingdoms, also refeπed to as barbaήan kingdoms, a process
that was controlled by barbarian monarchs and led to the transformation of heterogeneous
communities into a homogeneous people.3 Following this theory, the heterogeneous tribal
masses adopted the traditions and identities of the ruling family, who played the role of the
keeper of the "tήbal tradition."The process of transformation of the polyethnic barbaήan army
into a homogeneous gens was particularly intense after a new teπitory was seized οη Roman
soil.4 Some of the barbaήan royal families even ordered to wήte down this tradition. Hence,
works such as the (now-lost) Histσria Gσthσrum ('Ήistory of the Goths") by Cassiodorus wήtten
(and finished somewhere between 516 and 533) οη the behest ofTheodoric the Great (d. 526),
were meant to be not only wήtten tήbal stories but also carήers of ethnic tradition.5
This theory-although heavily cήticised by some Anglophone scholars-is considered one
of the most important theoήes for explaining the phenomenon of the transformation of the
Roman world into early medieval kingdoms. Ιη fact, given the fame that the Vienna School
(scholars who have been studying the processes of early medieval ethnogenesis have come fi:-om
the University of Vienna and that is why they have been geneήcally called "the Vienna
school"6) gained in the academic world, it can be assumed that the theoήes presented by its
members are at the moment the peak achievement of research οη the early Middle Ages.
The considerations presented in this chapter are aimed at discussing the main problems
concerning the ethnicity of barbaήan peoples in the early medieval West. Ι start with the
question of the polyethnic nature of the barbaήan armies and the veήfication of the thesis that
this polyethnicity disappeared over time as the new terήtory was conquered and the army itself
transformed into a homogeneous ethnic group. The chapter then proceeds to the problem of
the model of ethnicity as a situational construct, which is to explain the homogenisation of
heterogeneous barbaήan troops. Ι discuss the problems of two models of ethnicity: pήmordial
DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-9 123

Robert Kasperski
and instrumental. Next, Ι point out that kinship between barbarian peoples could have been
one of the instruments for forming alliances and the joining together of oήginally separate
groups. Οη the other hand, the strategy of not having kin relationships could have been a tool
for maintaining the separateness of a given group. Finally, Ι deal with one of the works that had
a real impact οη shaping the ethnic identity of one barbaήan people-the Longobards. The
considerations presented in the last section of this paper are intended to indicate that the
narrative of Origo gentis Langobardorum ("The Oήgin of the Longobards") could have been a
tool for maintaining the border-or even a "limitic structure"-between the Longobards and
foreign ethnic groups.
Ιη the debate between οη early medieval ethnicity Ι want to take an intermediate position.
Without upholding the claim of the ubiquitous ethnic discourse, Ι also do not want to support
the contention that ethnicity played ηο role in the socio-political life of the barbaήan kingdoms.
Ethnicity was neither a ubiquitous factor in the existence of early medieval communities, nor
was it absent. Ethnicity is an extremely complicated phenomenon in the existence of any
community. Most often, it is activated at specific times. As sociologists have recently noted,
ideas of common oήgin and descent can be revived, used, and applied as a reference to
strengthen a sense of community, grouping, and shared destiny.7 There are moments in the life
of every ethnic community when the elites use the dimensions of oήgin and culture to establish
and maintain social definitions of groups and the boundaries between them. 8 It is at these
moments that the elites transform the ideas of a common oήgin and culture to create the idea of
a community based οη them, which binds its individual members with specific ties, creating a
sense of solidaήty and unity between them and thus giving the group internal coherence. Then
what we call "ethnicity" is activated and mobilised.9 Such moments include: the threat of war,
the invasion of an enemy people, and the threat of civil war. That is when ethnicity takes οη a
total dimension-it becomes a powerful and main source of almost every social activity; it
10
covers almost all areas of life.
Debate
The debate concerning ethnicity is pήmarily between two research centres: the already
mentioned Vienna School gathered around Herwig Wolfi:-am and the so-called Toronto School
whose mentor is Walter Goffart. Building οη the works of Reinhard Wenskus, Wolfi-am has
constructed a model presenting the process of the formation of the Goths. 11 It was thus a long
seήes of Gothic ethnogeneses which ended in the Roman terήtory when the Ostrogoths settled
in Italy and the Visigoths in Gaul and Spain. This theory has been developed in many respects
by Wolfi:-am's former student, Walter Pohl. Ethnicity plays a dorninant role in it. According to
these scholars, ethnic discourse would constantly construct and reconstruct barbaήan identities,
based οη the tήbal tradition that was kept by the tήbal elites or even the royal family ruling a
given people. Such keepers of tήbal traditions included the families of the Gothic Amals,
Vandal Hasdingi, and Frankish Merovingians. Ιη the same model, one of the main components
of barbarian ethnic tradition was an old oral narrative about the origin of a given people. Ιη the
case of the Goths, it was a naπative about the oήgin of this people fi-om the northern island of
Scandia/Scandza. The tradition, of course, included the memory of the deeds of the ancestors,
the genealogy of the royal farnily, or the story of the reigns of individual kings of a given
people. 12 According to the Viennese School, barbarian waπiors adopted the tradition and
ethnic identity preserved by tribal elites and became, for example, Goths, Franks, or Gepids. 13
The ethnicity of the barbaήans was of a situational and instrumental nature and, as a result, was
political and served as a "device used by individuals and groups to unify, organise, and mobilise
124
Barbarian Ethnicity
populations to achieve larger goals." 14 The main goal of the barbaήan elites was to create a
stable kingdom in the terήtoήes that until recently had been part of the Roman Empire.
Ethnicity provided a tool for the implementation of this plan since it allowed the unification of
barbaήan tήbal masses to create a new, homogeneous people.
This theory has been cήticised by Goffart and his adherents. They point out that the bar
baήan peoples in most cases did not have their own old (and pre-Roman) tradition of oήgin
from some legendary pήmeval homeland. For example, the Goths did not have such a story; the
tale of their oήgin fi:-om Scandza was a naπative constructed by the East Roman histoήan
Jordanes, not an ancient tribal tradition. 15 Ιη most cases, the traditions of these peoples were
developed in Roman teπitory, and hence their sources were not at all tήbal stoήes-an ex
ample is the σrigσ according to which the Franks oήginated fi:-om Troy. 16 Barbaήan elites did
not keep their own traditions, and royal families (such as the Merovingians) could not hold long
genealogies dating back to time immemorial because they did not cultivate the memory of their
own past. 17 Ιη this reading, barbaήan ethnicity was not political at all and certainly was not a
situational construct. 18The members of the "Toronto School" further contend that ethnic
discourse was also not a tool for creating and maintaining intemal coherence of barbaήan
peoples. As Andrew Gillett puts it: "[m]ilitary force, not an ambiguous ideology of ethnicity,
established and maintained the barbaήan elites."19
The Issues of Ethnicity of Barbarian Peoples

The heterogeneity and polyethnicity of early medieval barbaήan peoples such as the Goths, the
Vandals, and the Longobards did not escape the attention of early medieval authors. It should be
noted that they distinguished between homogeneous peoples and those which also included
members of foreign ethnic groups. Thus, for example, in his Expσsitiσ Psalmσrum, Cassiodorus
wrote: 'Ά gens can embrace some foreigners; when we speak of a natiσ, we do not include
outsiders, but denote a people consisting of only one blood"20 ( Gens enim aliquσs pσtest habere
peregrinσs, et dum natiσ dicitur, nσn advenas cσmplectimur, sed tantum gentem unius sanguinis in
dicamus). 21 Such heterogeneous gentes are of course mentioned in the sources. When describing
the army of Theodoήc the Great, Ennodius of Pavia indicated that countless men scattered
among various peoples were gathered into one gens. 22 According to sources, Theodoήc set out
to conquer Italy in 488 as the rex gentium-the king of peoples, although the exact meaning of
this title is not entirely clear. Theodoήc's troops included not only Goths of various de
nominations, but also the Rugii, Gepids, probably the Hunnic Bitugures and several other
smaller ethnic groups.23 The Rugii remained separate until at least 540, when they proclaimed
one of their tήbesmen, Eraric, as the king of the Goths.24 Ιη tum, Gaiseήc's (ruled 428-477)
Vandals were a conglomerate of the Vandals-Hasdingi, Alans, Goths and other groups yet
unknown to us.25 Procopius of Caesarea also emphasised the polyethnicity of the Vandals,
claiming that the name "Alans" and the names of other barbaήans-except the Moors-were
absorbed by the name "Vandals."26 This does not mean, however, that the Alans became the
Vandals and lost their unique identity. Gaiseήc's son, Huneήc (ruled 477-484), was called rex
Vandalσrum et Alanσrum. 27 Also, the last of the Vandal kings, Gelimer, was titled "the king of the
Vandals and Alans," which testifies that the Alans still constituted an identifiable group in the
Vandal kingdom in the sixth century.28 Many ethnic groups came together with Alboin's
Longobards and settled in Italy. As Paul the Deacon wrote: 'Ίt is certain that Alboin then
brought with him to Italy many men fi:-om various peoples which either other kings or he
himself had taken. Therefore, even today, we call the villages in which they dwell Gepidan,
Bulgaήan, Sarmatian, Pannonian, Suabian, Noήcan, or by other names of this kind."29 Ιη turn,
125
Robert Kasperski
among the warήors ofLongobard King Alboin (ruled circa 560-572) was a large contingent of
Saxons-numbeήng 20,000 waπiors-who lefi: his kingdom, because they were not peπnitted
to live under their own tήbal law.30
Paul Deacon's Historia Langobardorum demonstrates that the polyethnicity in theLongobard
kingdom survived long afi:er the Longobards began the conquest of Italy. It should also be
remembered that cities and villages beaήng the name of the Gepids-the flagship example is
Coguzo Gepidasco-were still recorded in Italy in the tenth century.31
The accounts contained in the aforementioned sources prove that peoples such as the
Vandals or Longobards did not change their polyethnic character after the victoήous occu
pation of the lands belonging to the Roman Empire-northern Afiica and Italy, respectively.
The polyethnicity of the barbarian armies persisted long after victorious kings such as Gaiseήc
and Alboin became lords of lands formally belonging to the Roman Empire.
Ιη the ethnogenesis model, the instrumental model of ethnicity plays a vital role, which in its
most extreme version takes the form of ethnicity as a situational construct. Patήck Geary has
introduced the latter concept to studies οη ethnogenesis. Ιη his view, ethnicity was a political
category, which changed depending οη the circumstances: "[ ...] ethnicity was perceived and
moulded as a function of the circumstances which related most specifically to the paramount
interests of a lordship. Thus, a duke may have been gallic when his birthplace was mentioned,
but he was a Frank when talking of close connection of king, and an Alamannian when leading
the Alsacian levy."32 The scholars of the Vienna School argue that barbaήans often changed
their ethnic identity to achieve political and mateήal benefits. As Wolfram writes: "[d]epending
οη opportunity and circumstances, the same person could profess a Hunnic or Gepid or Gothic
identity."33 For example, a member of a foreign people living among the Franks had to assume
their ethnic identity in order to achieve political status, prestige, and material benefits in Regnum
Francorum. The same, of course, applied to foreigners living among the Goths andLongobards.
This multi-layered approach to ethnicity, however, raises several issues. First, as Alexander
Callander Muπay notes in his cήticism of this concept, sources classify barbarians by birth in a
given gens. He claims:
These ideas have been used by Patήck Geary in a study of ethnic teπninology in the
Frankish kingdom to argue that ethnicity was a malleable construct that was de
teπnined mainly by political circumstances and by the interests of lordship. The
method depends οη confounding the occasions when ethnicity is mentioned (in
political narratives, these occasions tend unsurpήsingly to be political and military)
with the cήteήa for ethnicity, and οη finding confusion and contradiction in the
sources' attribution of ethnicity. The sources do not comply with the method. Their
testimony tends to run doggedly to the banal, unambiguous, and conventional- ethnic
association was something one was born into: a person was a Frank, a Roman, or a
Burgundian by birth.34
Second, there is enough evidence indicating that members of foreign tήbes did not change their
identity at all and did not become members of the gentes among whom they lived, and yet they
still climbed their rnilitary-political hierarchy. For example, we know that Droctulf, who had
earned the title of dux among theLongobards, was an Alemannian or Sueve by birth and this
fact was even emphasised οη his epitaph.35 This indicates that he was considered to be ethnically
foreign to the Longobards for the rest of his life. Α certain Ragnaήs, as Agathias of Myrina
testifies, was neither "a kinsman nor a compatήot" of the Goths, but he was a member of the
Hunnic people called the Bitugures, and yet he became commander of the Gothic army in
126
Barbarian Ethnicity
southern Italy.36 Although Ragnaris was a Gothic commander, he was not a Goth himself The
king ofVisigoths, Theodoήc ΙΙ (ruled 453-466), made one of his retainers, Agήwulf, governor
of the subordinate Suebi. That Agήwulf was, according to J ordanes, one of the Varni by birth
( Varnorum stirpe genitus). 37 All three were foreigners in the kingdoms in which they lived. Νone
of them, however, changed their inherent ethnic identity and adopted a new one to function in
the political and military hierarchy of the ethnically foreign people. For this reason, it is difficult
to agree with the thesis that the ethnicity of a given barbaήan always changed with the cir
cumstances. The three barbaήans were a part of a military organisation of ethnically foreign
peoples, and yet they were still considered foreigners. Consideήng the examples of the three
barbaήans discussed above and the evidence that foreign groups-such as the Alans in the
Vandal kingdom-retained their separateness in ethnically foreign kingdoms, it is difficult to
agree with the statement that "the peoples of the rnigration period acquired their identity
through their adherence to particular royal or ducal farnilies alongside whom they fought and
whose traditions their adopted." 38
Should it be concluded, given the above-mentioned points, that the ethnicity of early
medieval barbarians was pήmordial in nature and thus was simply a consequence of being born
in a given gens? This is certainly what contemporary observers thought.39 It should also be
noted that supporters of the ethnicity model as a situational construct certainly go too far. It is
unlikely that one person-depending οη the benefits and circumstances-could "profess a
Hunnic or Gepid or Gothic identity." Even advocates of the instrumental model of ethnicity
argue that "[t]he recognition that ethnicity is neither static nor monolithic should not be taken
to mean that it is definitively and perpetually in a state of flux." 40 Moreover, belonging to a
given group is not only deterrnined by the will of the person who wants to belong to it. Ethnic
identity is not only a matter of self-identification, but also of classification and identification by
other people, fiiends, and strangers. Even if a Gepid-hypothetically-began to consider
himself a Goth, this does not automatically mean that the Goths considered him a member of
their people. However, if there are compelling reasons to reject barbarian ethnicity as a si
tuational construct, should we do the same with the instrumental model of ethnicity?
The fundamental problem for the instrumental ethnicity model is that sources do not give
evidence of individual changes of ethnic identity, for example, that an Alan became aVandal, or
that a Saxon assumed a Frankish identity. Were there ηο such cases? Although we do not have
any source of evidence to indicate that individual barbarians changed their ethnic identity, it is
certain that the Franks and Longobards adopted foreigners. It should be noted at this point that
in the studies of barbarian identities neither the supporters of the theory of ethnicity as a
situational construct nor the adherents of the theory of the pήmordial ethnicity take into
consideration the important issue of the recognition of tήbal stranger (foreigner) as as a member
of the adoptive group by its other members. This is an extremely important issue.
Anthropologists ofi:en give examples of assimilation and adoption of "foreigners" by a given
41
group. Given that ethnic status is usually transfeπed genealogically, the strangers who group
members are willing to recognise as belonging to them must be included in local kinship
structures.42 Recognition of a relationship of kinship is usually mutual; it is recognised by both
the group that includes a stranger and by the stranger himself Ofi:en, inclusion occurs si
multaneously through adoption, maπiage, and ritual assimilation, or through the so-called
fictitious kinship.
It must be noted here that the role of kinship groups is essentially unnoticed in the debate οη
early medieval ethnogenesis. Given that they played a significant role in the social life of
barbaήan peoples, Ι suggest that we should pay more attention to this problem. The role that
kinship groups played in the military structures of barbaήan arrnies is evident particularly among
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the Franks. For example, according to the Strategikon (circa 600) traditionally attήbuted to the
Emperor Mauήce (ruled 582-602), the waπiors of these peoples lined up to fight according to
tήbes, kinship ties, and "common interest."43 Moreover, researchers dealing with the laws of
the barbaήan peoples have long pointed to the important role that kinship groups-a kinship
group was called parentilla in Pactus legis Salicae (The Salic law)-played among the Franks.44 Do
the sources concerning barbaήan peoples also convey the idea of including "foreigners" in
kinship groups? Certainly, we need to look at Pactus, which descήbes what the reverse phe
nomenon looked like-the ήtual exclusion of a man fi:-om his kinship group. The procedure
looked as follows (LS, lx): 'Ήe who wishes to remove himselffi:-om his kin group should go to
court and in the presence of the thuningus or hundredman break four sticks of alderwood over
his head and throw them in four bundles into four corners of the court and say there that he
removes himself fi:-om the oath-helping (iuramento), fi:-om the inheήtance, and from any re
45
lationship [with his kin]." Although this legal text does not descήbe the reverse procedure,
namely the adoption of a stranger to a Frankish kinship group, it contains a paragraph regarding
the adoption of an heir. Of course, this adoption took place in court, and the procedure itself,
which lasted a certain time, began with a ήtual in which the adopter had to "throw a stick
(festuca) thus into his (i.e., the adoptive-R.Κ.) lap. And he should say to the man into whose
lap he threw the stick how much he wishes to give him-if he wishes to give him all or half of
his property."46 It can be assumed that the inclusion of a stranger in a kinship group, if it did not
look similar, at least had to be preceded by some special ήtual. One thing can be said for
sure-the mere adoption of the Frankish law and the very fact that one lived according to this
law did not automatically make a foreigner a Frank, which is testified by Pactus in many places.
There is an expressis verbis distinction between a free Frank (ingenuus Francus) and a barbarian
(barbarus) who lives according to the Salic law (qui lege Salica uiuit). 47 This allows us to doubt the
claim that the adoption of the Frankish legal tradition by a foreigner was the same as the
adoption of the Frankish ethnic identity. Thus, the mechanism for adopting the Frankish ethnic
identity had to be something completely different.
Kinship and the "Limitic Structure"

There has long been debate in anthropology about what kinship actually is. There are two
competing views. The followers of the first view (the so-called descent schoo� claim that kinship
hinges οη the idea of oήginfi:-om a common ancestor. The adherents of the other view (the so
called alliance schoo� argue that it is based οη the idea of an alliance formed when men from one
group marήed women fi:-om another group.48 Of course, the dispute about which school is
ήght is unsolvable, but the merit of the second view is that it has moved this issue towards
kinship understood as a political strategy for creating new "we-groups."
Could kinship in the early Middle Ages be a political strategy for uniting oήginally in
dependent groups? Was the independence and separateness of a group maintained by prohi
biting marήages with members of foreign groups? Let us start with the observation that some
barbarian peoples intentionally avoided maπying members of other-foreign groups. For ex
ample, despite being suπounded by foreign peoples, the Saxons avoided any intermarήage with
them in order to-as emphasised in Translatio Sancti Alexandri-"to make a particular and pure
people, similar only to itself"49 Also, in the Italian kingdom of Theodoήc the Great, the Rugii
avoided enteήng into a connubium with members of other groups. According to Procopius, they
were Gothic people but lived as an independent group. He states that the Rugii did not maπy
womenfi:-om other peoples, so that their subsequent generations remained pure blood. For this
reason, "they had preserved the name of their people among themselves."50
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Taking Procopius's words at face value one could think that not establishing kin relation
ships with members of other peoples functioned as a strategy for maintaining ethnic sepa
rateness. Οη the other hand, Procopius's wήtings suggest that kinship could have been a
political strategy for joining two-oήginally-politically independent peoples. We have evi
dence of this in Procopius's story about the mysteήous Arborychoi who, according to him, were
Roman soldiers in Gaul.51 Wanting to subjugate them, the Franks began to invade but were
unable to defeat the Arborychoi, who, as Romans, proved to be very forrnidable people. The
Franks, therefore, decided to ally with them and bind with them by blood ties. The Arborychoi
accepted this proposal, especially since both peoples were Chήstians. Ιη this way-as Procopius
comments-the Franks and Arborychoi became one people.
The credibility of the story of the kinship between the Arborychoi and the Franks is, of
course, disputable. We do not even know who the Arborychoi were, although it is supposed that
this name refers to the Romans of Tractus Armoricanus: "a late Roman rnilitary circumscription
which embraced the whole of north-west Gaul, west of the Seine and north of the Loire."52
But in Procopius's Wars we find another example of maπiages between members of two
peoples-a connubium between the Goths (i.e., the Ostrogoths) and the Visigoths. Procopius
claims that when both peoples were ruled by Theodoήc, their members eventually began to
aπange marήages of their children and thus the Ostrogoths and Visigoths joined together
through blood relationships.53
The hyp othesis proposed here that kinship-understood as a political strategy-could unite
two peoples into one "we-group" can be supported by this very story: Procopius's account of
mutual marήages of children aπanged by the Goths and Visigoths. Although his naπative implies
that the initiative for marήages came from members of both Gothic peoples, it cannot be
overlooked that Theodoήc was also officially the king of Visigoths from 511 to 526, which is
indicated by Isidore ofSeville's Historia Gothorum and also by the dates of the synods in Taπagona
and Girona, which are dated by Theodoήc's regnal years.54 Theodoήc united the two Gothic
peoples under his authoήty and planned to hand power over them to his son-in-law, Euthaήc (d.
522-523), who came from the Ibeήan part of the Visigothic kingdom.55 Making Euthaήc heir to
the throne was, of course, dictated by the desire to maintain Theodoήc's power over Spain; this
decision was certainly a nod to the Visigothic aήstocracy aimed at binding it to his authoήty.
Therefore, one needs to consider whether it truly was the king himself who encouraged marήages
between members of both Gothic peoples. Mter all, he gave his daughter Amalasuintha (d. 535)
to a Visigoth for his wife. Perhaps he also encouraged the Ostrogoths serving in his army stationed
in Spain to intermaπy with the Visigoths. Possibly his goal was to bind these two peoples who
were to be permanendy united, as was probably thought in 515, when Euthaήc marήed
Amalasuintha. It is likely that Theodoήc's propaganda also promoted this goal. He sought to
propagate the vision of an undivided Gothic community, which remained under Amal rule until
the reign ofΚing Ermanaήc (depicted as Euthaήc's ancestor in the Getica). 56 This propaganda can
also be found in Jordanes's Getica-the Ostrogoths and Visigoths were kinsmen (parentes) and
were related by kinship (consanguinitas). It is very likely that Theodoήc indeed had taken vaήous
actions to tie the Ostrogoths and Visigoths together.
Το summarise, οη the one hand, the ban οη marήages between members of different ethnic
groups in the early Middle Ages could have been a strategy for maintaining ethnic separateness,
which is reflected in the example of the Rugii. On the other hand, marήages, which joined
members of two peoples through both kinship and affinity, united two politically distinct
groups, which is best illustrated in the story of the unification of the Franks with the Arborychoi.
One rnight then assume logically, that by enteήng into a bond of kinship, the ethnic boundaries
between two groups bluπed, and one (generally the dominant) group assimilated the other.
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It is necessary to consider elsewhere whether the prohibition of enteήng into kinship with
representatives of other groups was a strategy known as "limitic structure," which constitutes a
barήer between one group and the other. 57 "Lirnitic structure" can be used as a tool to de
marcate the borders of one's collective identity and, at the same time, strengthens the group
bonds between members of the same group. Of course, traditions and myths can also play the
role of such lirnitic structures. But can naπatives about the past also serve as such lirnitic
structures? But first, let us reconsider the role the narrative sources played in shaping the
identity of barbaήan elites.
Did works such as the "Chronicle of Fredegar" and Cassiodorus's Historia Gothorum con
tήbute to giving barbarian comrnunities an appropήate--in line with political needs-group
identity? Once again, it is impossible to give an unequivocal answer, but attention should
certainly be paid to how late antique authors explained the role played in the education of
aήstocratic youth by the narratives relating to the glory of past deeds. Ιη the opening to his
Historia Wambae regis, Julian of Toledo suggested:
Α naπated account of victories serves ofi:en as an aid to courage, and whatever is told
of the glory of past deeds draws the spiήts of young men to the banner of bravery. For
human nature has a sluggish disposition to inner courage, and this is why it is found
more inclined to vice than eager for feats of bravery, so that, unless it is constantly
edified with the goad of useful examples, it will remain cold and listless. Το this end,
in order that our naπative of bygone things may be able to cure phlegmatic spiήts, we
have presented deed performed in our times, by which we may incite future ages to
valor. 58
It should be noted that this quotation above does not directly indicate that the works dealing
with victoήes and the glory of past deeds contributed to shaping the ethnic consciousness of
young barbaήan aήstocrats; it only expresses that they were to encourage bravery/manliness
(virtus) in young men. This passage, however, does suggest that naπatives such as Historia
Wambae regis may also have had an indirect impact οη shaping the ethnic awareness of young
Gothic aήstocrats by telling them about the history of their own gens and the victories of their
ancestors. The edifying effects of the naπatives could have been teaching them the history of
their own people and instilling pήde in their war achievements.
The Longobards, Their Disunity, and Origo gentis Langobardorum

Origo gentis Langobardorum is another work that dealt with the triumphs and deeds of the past and
could also have had a sirnilar effect οη shaping the identity of another barbaήan people-the
Longobards.59 Ιη some manuscήpts of the Edictum Rothari (Edict ofRothaή)-a compilation of
Lombard law wήtten down at the behest of Κing Rothari in 643-0rigo is an introduction to
it. It was created in 668 or-less likely-671 (long afi:er the publication of the Edictum Rothari),
which coincided with the reign of Κing Gήmoald 1 (ruled 662-671), or-less likely-his
successor, Perctaήt (ruled 671-688).
Undoubtedly for those interested in Lombard ethnicity, the most important part of Origo is
the story of how the Longobards-formerly known as the Winnili-defeated the dangerous
Vandals οη the northern island of Scadanan, whose name the anonymous author translates into
the Latin word excidia, ("destructions"). According to the story, it was the homeland of the
Longobards. When the Vandals, led by two chieftains, Ambή and Assi, gave the Winnili an
ultimatum that they would either pay tήbute or prepare for battle, the Winnili chose the second
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option. Ambή and Assi then turned to Wodan to give them victory over the Winnili. Wodan
replied that he would give victory to those he shall first see before sunrise. At the same time, the
Winnili leaders, Gambara and her sons, Ybor and Agio, turned to Wodan's wife, Frea, to win
her favour for their people. She advised that at the sunήse the women of the Winnili should tie
their hair in fi:-ont of their faces like beards and join their men in battle. When the glow of the
ήsing sun lit up the sky, Frea turned Wodan's bed so that he was facing east and woke him up.
When he looked at the Winnili and their women with their hair in fi:-ont of their faces, he said:
"Who are these longbeards?." Frea replied: "Since you have given them a name, give them also
the victory." Wodan gave them victory so that they could defend themselves according to his
60
will and triumph over their enemies. From then οη, the Winnili were called theLongobards.
This story explained the circumstances in which the Longobards received their tribal name
and also why they wore their distinctive long beards, which not only symbolised them as a
people but also manifested their masculinity. Ιη late antiquity and the early Middle Ages, beards
were a symbol of manliness (virilitatis). 61 Therefore, it can be assumed that they indicated the
extraordinary masculinity of the beard-wearer. Ιη the case of the Longobard myth stating that
the people received a new tήbal name thanks to theLongobard women's artificial beards, it can
be supposed that the goal was to communicate the hypermasculinity of the gens, since the beards
appeared οη the faces of women, not men. The entire community-not only men but also
women-communicated their exceptional masculinity. Could the story, which was included in
the compilation ofLongobard law, serve as a tool to stimulate or even construct the identity of
the Longobards? Could it also be a "limitic structure" which was a kind of counter-identity
directed against a dominant culture or group?
According to Paul the Deacon, the Duke of Benevento, Gήmoald, took the Longobard
throne, killing Κing Godepert himself (in the year 662). Having heard about this murder,
Perctarit, Godepert's brother, who simultaneously exercised royal power with him, fled fi:-om
Italy and went to the Αvars.62 It is likely that in the eyes of the Longobards fi:-om the northern
part of their kingdom, Gήmoald was a usurper. Therefore, he immediately took steps to secure
and legalise his authority. He marήed the daughter ofKing Aripert Ι, and thus bound himself to
the Agilulfing dynasty. This marήage, moreover, connected the Agilulfing family with the
family of the famous Alboin (the Longobard conqueror of Italy). After all, Gήmoald was a
descendant of Alboin. According to Paul the Deacon, when Gήmoald assumed the throne, he
sent some of his Beneventan warήors home and kept others beside him, giving them extensive
estates.63 It follows, therefore, that the military basis of his power were warήors fi:-om the Duchy
ofBenevento, whose loyalty he could fully rely οη. The information that duήng theByzantine
invasion, Gήmoald's son, Romuald, had few forces at his disposal, suggests that the king kept
most of theBeneventan forces under his command.64 As for theLongobards from the northern
part of the kingdom, available information suggests that their loyalty to Gήmoald was, at most,
dubious. First, Paul the Deacon reports that when Grimoald went to rescue Benevento, then
being besieged by Constantine, many Longobards deserted, claiming that Gήmoald was going
south, having robbed the palace, and did not intend to return north.65 Second, after Gήmoald
headed south, in around 664, Duke Lupus of Friuli, whom the king had lefi: in his place at
Pavia, rebelled. Scholars have long pointed out that in the mid-seventh century, the Duchy of
Benevento was in fact a half-independent state of the Longobard kingdom.66 There were also
other semi-independent duchies like Spoleto or Fήuli.67 As Mark Humphήes writes, there was
an "inherent disunity of theLombards," which became "apparent already [ ...] in the army that
Alboin led into Italy."68
It is likely, that the Longobards themselves were divided into several terήtoήal groups,
which, it seems, could not have any special community bonds or community of interests. Paul
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Robert Kasperski
the Deacon descήbes groups with interesting names, such as the Longobards of the Duchy of
Benevento who are refeπed to as Samnites69 or theBeneventan army.70 The Longobards fi:-om
Forum Iulii are usually refeπed to as Foroiulians.71 Of course, these diverse terms could be used
ad hoc by the author as identification tags, helping readers to distinguish between individual
groups of the Longobards. Οη the other hand, these terms may indicate that the Longobards
actually had different particular identities, which were based οη loyalty to the group inhabiting
a given terήtory, rather than to the entire gens of the Longobards, whose first representative was
the king.72
Gήmoald certainly did his best to avoid conilicts that would leave unhealable scars οη the
Longobard community and lead to hostility between hisBeneventan army and the Longobards of
the northem part of the kingdom. Evidence of this is his reaction to Lupus's rebellion. The king
did not personally deal with the duchy of Forum Iulii, but instead decided to remove the rebel in
a different way. He asked the Avar khagan to attack Lupus. Paul the Deacon explains that
Gήmoald did not want an outbreak of a civil war between the Longobards.73 It follows then that
the king was guided pήmaήly by the desire to avoid a conilict between the south and the north,
one that would likely fester for many years to come. So, was Origo supposed to give the
Longobard groups a sense of community, grouping, and unity?
Origo was written duήng the conflict with the Eastern Roman Empire that began in 663.
Perhaps taking advantage of the involvement of the Longobards in the north where they had to
face the Franks, Emperor Constans ΙΙ (ruled 641-668) attacked the Duchy ofBenevento. The
emperor's goal-as Paul the Deacon claims-was to fi:-ee Italy from the hands of the
Longobards.74 Ιη turn, Eastem Roman historians claimed that Constans even intended to move
the capital fi:-om Constantinople to Rome, but this is rather unlikely.75
Let us deal with Gήmoald's main enemies-the Eastem Romans. Ιη the seventh century,
they underwent an extremely interesting cultural transformation. While they were characteήsed
by smoothly shaved faces in the sixth century, the faces of the Romans were covered with
beards in the seventh century. As Robert Browning puts it: "suddenly we are in a world of
bearded men and none more so than the emperor himself" 76 The founder of the Heraclean
dynasty, Heraclius (ruled 610-641), began to wear a beard, but it is believed that there is ηο
symbolic act hidden behind it-the emperor let it grow duήng the Persian campaign and simply
got used to it.77 At the same time, it could have played the role of a symbol of his victory over
the Persians-the beard and carefully aπanged hair were the supreme marks of the Persian
monarchy.78 However, Heraclius's grandson, Constans ΙΙ, who was also called Constantine the
Bearded (Kδnstantinos ho Pogonatos), is considered the creator of the custom of emperors wearing
a long and abundant beard.79 Moreover, it is believed that he initiated a peculiar fashion for
long, ήch beards in Constantinople. 80 Ιη his study of Byzantine coins, Philip Gήerson has
reviewed the images of Constans οη the solidi he minted. Between 641 and 647, Constans ΙΙ
was depicted οη coins clean shaven.81 He wore a short beard οη solidi minted between 647 and
651. From 651 οη, the emperor was portrayed οη solidi with a long, ήch beard.82
Just why Eastem Roman emperors and their subjects began to wear long, ήch beards is a
question not often asked by Byzantinists. Shaun Tougher, however, has come up with an
interesting proposal to interpret the symbolic significance of impeήal beards: "From the above
discussion some possibilities can be suggested for the Byzantine beard: it is a sign of the in
creasing Hellenisation of the empire, it is a sign of the increasing Chήstianisation of the empire,
it is a sign of a desire to enhance masculinity, perhaps in response to a sense of political and
military cήsis." 83 Ιη the Eastem Roman Empire, a beard symbolised masculinity whereas its
lack symbolised effeminacy, which was best reflected by the fact that eunuchs, who were the
embodiment of the latter trait, were beardless.84 The Byzantine beard was also a thoroughly
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Chήstian symbol-at that time Chήst began to be portrayed as a bearded man.85 The Church
Fathers promoted weaήng a beard as a syrnbol of masculinity. ΙηRobert S. Lopez's opinion, the
above-mentioned cήsis began duήng the time ofHeraclius.86 Duήng the reign of this emperor,
a new and heavier silver coin began to be minted and its legend-May God help the Romans
(Deus adiuta Romanis)-communicated to the emperor's subjects the need to defeat the enemies
of God and homeland.87 The appeal for divine help could also reflect and express the tension
and desperation of the Romans and their fears at that time.88 Perhaps we should think that the
Roman emperors introduced a whole range of propagandistic and ideological measures to
mobilise the empire's population to face the external threat of enemies. One of them was an
appeal to God for help. Another was manifestation that the Romans were manly and warlike
people, which the emperor himself symbolised by growing a beard.
The desire to strengthen masculinity and communicate it with the help of external ap
pearance in response to the emergence of a political and military cήsis, or even an external
threat, does not only apply to the Romans. The same can be said about the Longobards. The
story introduced into the Edictum Rothari communicated it well. Ιη 663, an armed conflict
began, in which the armies of two "bearded" peoples faced each other, headed by two bearded
men, Constans and Gήmoald, the latter-as Paul the Deacon claims-had a bald head but wore
a lush beard.89
Origo gentis Langobardorum as an Instrument of Shaping Longobard Identity

The fact that two "long-bearded" people faced each other in 663 is extremely interesting. Οη
the one hand, there were the Romans, whose beards likely symbolised the Chήstian and
Hellenic character of their own people. Οη the other hand, there were the Longobards, whose
custom of weaήng beards was allegedly born in pagan and ancient times, when Wodan gave
them their tribal name. Is there a Chήstian symbolism ofRoman beards versus the pagan oήgin
and significance of the Longobard facial hair? Let us leave this question unanswered; it requires
a separate study.However, there is a common point. Namely, in both cases, beards syrnbolise
masculinity of the two gentes. However, there is a significant problem. If in the second half of
the seventh century the Longobards began codifying their group identity, the main feature of
which was masculinity symbolised by long, ήch beards, how did they differ fi:-om theirRoman
adversaries in this respect? Constructing identity forces the creation of boundaήes that con
stitute a clear "limitic structure," that is a border or even a distinction (a distinctive feature)
between one's own people and strangers. As for the facial hair itself and the syrnbol of mas
culinity beneath, ηο such clear distinction can be seen in the analysed case-both the Romans
and the Longobards wore long beards. Let us move here to the last part of our considerations.
Undoubtedly, the story contained in Origo has two dimensions-the dimension of identity/
culture and the dimension of oήgin. Let us start with the first. The inclusion of Origo in the
Edictum Rothari not only made a wήtten story about the beginnings of their own gens available
to the Longobard community, but it also codified it and made it resistant to any modifications
and changes to which tales preserved in oral form are necessaήly exposed. Moreover, wήting
the story and including it into the Longobard Law gave the Longobards a "new" identity that
presented them as more than just a belligerent and an extremely masculine gens. The story
bolstered this identity with another important feature-being victoήous. As Michael
McCormick has argued, "victory has now become [ ...] a characteήstic of the tribe."90
According to the Origo, the Longobards received not only their tήbal name but also victory
over the dangerous, warlike, and aggressive enemy. The Winnili women-so the legend
said-wore fake beards, thus communicating the extraordinary masculinity of the entire gens.
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Robert Kasperski
These beards gave the victory at the "beginnings," when the Longobard community was born.
Αη identity that communicated that one's people are victorious could serve as a powerful tool
for strengthening group unity in times of war.
The other dimension is that of oήgin. Origo explained that the Longobards came from the
northern island of Scadanan, which was said to be their cradle. Ιη his Etymologiae, Isidore of
Seville (d. 636) defined the tenngens as follows: Gens est multitudo ab uno principio orta sive ab alia
natione secundum propriam collectionem distincta. 91 According to him, gens was a group of one (and
the same) oήgin or distinguished from another group by its properties. The oήgin of the
Longobards was in the far north, and placing the homeland there was part of the anti-romanitas
92
tradition. The north-Scandza-from which, according to Jordanes, the Goths oήginated, or
Scandanan, fi-om which, according to the Passio Sancti Sigimsundi, the Burgundofarones (i.e.,
Burgundians) originated, was an "upside-down world," inhabited by wild, pήmitive, almost
93
animal-like peoples, without any connections to civilisation. The message of such origo was
clear-the north was exactly the opposite world of the orbis Romanus.
The north, whether refeπed to as Scandia/Scandza or Scandanan, occupied-in addition to
Troy and Scythia-a prominent place arnong the cradles of early medieval peoples. Ιη the seventh
century, the Franks invested inTrojan descent and the story about their exodus fi-om the city of
Pήarn, began to become very popular. What message did theTrojan origo of the Franks convey?
There were basically two legible messages. The first announced that the Franks and Romans
"carne fi-om the same cradle," meaning that they were essentially one.94 The other-as Roger
Collins showed-stated that the Franks came fi-om the eastern Mediteπanean and therefore did
not come fi-om the barbaήan world.95 Ιη this way, the relationship between the Franks and the
non-Roman world east of the Rhine was eliminated. This strategy was based οη romanitas.
However, residents of the Regnum Francorum were not the only people to claimTrojan oήgin.
Ιη their considerations regarding Greek identity in the Eastern Roman Empire, scholars have
recently emphasised the role that Trojan oήgin stoήes played in the political ideology of this
state.96 Emperor Justinian Ι deήved the ancient history of power fi-om Aeneas, "King ofTroy,
Pήnce of the Republic, fi-om whom-as he emphasised-the Romans were said to descend."97
From the seventh century onwards, a number of Eastern Roman histoήans were equally
convinced that their political history began with Aeneas. Some Eastern Romans perceived the
fall of Troy as the starting point of their history.
When the Longobards introduced Origo into the Edictum Rothari in 668-71, they codified
and manifested their identity, which denied what constituted the dimension of oήgin of the
Franks and the identity of the Eastern Romans in the seventh century, the main enemies of
the Longobards in 663. They used it to manifest their anti-romanitas. 98 Origo strengthened the
Longobard elite's belief that their past was barbaήan and non-Roman in both the dimension of
oήgin and the history of their "people's hallmark"-long beards.
Consideήng everything that has been said about Origo here, one can ήsk saying that it could
actually have played the role of a "limitic structure"; that is the border between the Longobards
and the suπounding ethnic groups. If the Franks and Romans considered themselves to be
descendants of the Trojans and associated their oήgins with Troy, the Longobards began to
manifest in the seventh century a kind of "anti-identity" based οη the conviction that the
Longobards-unlike the Franks-came fi-om outside the civilised/Roman world. Codifying
this "counter-identity" gave the Longobard elite a powerful instrument that activated the
ethnic identity of the Longobards at a time when only the consolidation of their community
could allow them to achieve victory over the external enemy-Eastern Romans-who wanted
to win back Italy fi-om them.
***
134
Barbarian Ethnicity
The debate about the ethnicity of barbaήan peoples will probably never lead to an un
equivocal conclusion οη whether it was pήmordial or instrumental. However, we should
certainly look at ethnicity from the broader perspective of strategies for communicating and
manifesting identity, signalling borders, and creating new "we" groups. The considerations
presented here are the first step in this direction.
Notes
1 See Α. Gillett, ed., On Barbarian Identity: Critical Approaches to Ethnicity in the Early Middle Ages
(Turnhout: Brepols, 2002).
2 Andrew Gillett, "The Mirror of Jordanes: Concepts of the Barbaήan, Then and Now," in Α
Companion to Late Antiquity, ed. Ρ. Rousseau (Chichester: Wiley-Blackwell, 2008), 395; Walter
Goffart, Barbarian Tides: The Migration Age and the Later Roman Empire (Philadelphia: UPP, 2006), 195.
3 Οη the meaning of ethnogenesis, see recently Herwig Wolfram, Das Romerreich und seine Germanen.
Eine Erzahlung von Herkunft und Ankunft (Koln: BoWau, 2018), 31-5; Walter PoW, "Von der
Ethnogenese zur Identitatsforschung," in Neue Wege der Fruhmittelalteιforschung, ed. Μ. Diesenberger,
W. PoW and Β. Zeller (Wien: OAW Verlag, 2018), 9-33.
4 See Herwig Wolfram, "Minderheiten - Eήnnerungen an die europaische Frίihzeit," in Gotische
Studien: Volk und Herrschcift imfruhen Mittelalter, ed. Η. Wolfram (Mίinchen: C. Η. Beck, 2006), 284-5.
5 Οη the thesis that the Getica is a mere an abridgement of Cassiodorus's Historia Gothorum, see Herwig
Wolfram, 'Όrigo gentis. Herkunftsgeschichte als Identitatsstiftung und Legitimation," in Gotische
Studien: Volk und Herrschaft imfruhen Mittelalter, ed. Η. Wolfram (Mίinchen: C. Η. Beck, 2006), 216.
6 Roger Collins, Visigothic Spain 409-711 (Malden-Oxford: Blackwell, 2004), 23.
7 Steve Fenton, Ethnicity (Cambήdge: Wiley, 2010), 138; Marcus Banks, Ethnicity: Anthropological
Constructions (London: Roudedge, 2005), 38.
8 Fenton, Ethnicity, 8; Banks, Ethnicity, 14.
9 Fenton, Ethnicity, 3.
10 See Fenton, Ethnicity, 89-92.
11 Herwig Wolfram, Die Goten. Von den Anfdngen bis zur Mitte des sechsten ]ahrhunderts: Entwuιf einer
historischen Ethnographie (Mίinchen: C. Η. Beck, 2009).
12 See Wolfram, 'Όήgο gentis," 224.
13 See Herwig Wolfram, 'Άustήa Before Austria: The Medieval Past of Polities to Come," Austrian
History Yearbook 38 (2007): 1-12.
14 1 have adopted this sentence from: https://www.bήtannica.com/topic/ethnic-conflict#refl226118
(accessed 3.01.2020).
15 See Goffart, Barbarian Tides, 56-72.
16 See Alexander C. Murray, "Reinhard Wenskus οη Έthnogenesis,' Ethnicity, and the Oήgin ofthe
Franks," in On Barbarian Identity: Critical Approaches to Ethnicity in the Early Middle Ages, ed. Α. Gillett
(Turnhout: Brepols, 2002), 65.
17 See Murray, "Reinhard Wenskus," 65.
18 See Andrew Gillett, "Was Ethnicity Politicized in the Earliest Medieval Κingdoms?," in On Barbarian
Identity: Critical Approaches to Ethnicity in the Early Middle Ages, ed. Α. Gillett (Turnhout: Brepols, 2002),
85-121.
19 Gillett, 'Έthnicity Politicized," 121.
20 Cassiodorus, Explanation of Psalms, trans. P.G. Walsh, vol. 2 (New York: Paulist Press, 1991), 419. 1
have substituted the word 'race' with gens and people, and 'nation' with people.
21 Cassiodorus, Expositio in Psalterium, xcv, ν. 7, ed. J.P. Migne, Patrologia Latina 70 (Paήs, 1865), 679.
22 Ennodius, Panegyricus dictus clementissimo regi Theoderico, 26, ed. and trans. C. Rohr, MGH Studien und
Texte 12 (Hannover, 1995): 214.
23 Cf. Wolfram, Die Goten, 300.
24 Procopius, "Wars,'' 7.2.1-5, in History of Wars, ed. and trans. Η.Β. Dewing (Cambridge, ΜΑ: Loeb,
1914-1940), 166-7. Α11 the translations from Procopius are adapted from Dewing.
25 Possidius ofCalama, Sancti Augustini Scripta α Possidio Episcopo, c. 28. 4, ed. and trans. Η.Τ. Weisskoten
(Princeton: Princeton University Press (PUP), 1919), 112.
26 Procopius, "Wars," 3.5.21, 52-3.
135
Robert Kasperski
27 See, Herwig Wolfram, Intitulatio Ι. Lateinische Konigs- und Fiίrstentitel bis zum Ende desJahrhunderts, 1967
(Koln-Graz: BoWau, 1969), 80.
28 Procopius, "Wars," 3.24.3, 196-7.
29 Paul the Deacon, History cif the Lombards, trans. W.D. Foulke (Philadelphia: UPP, 2003), 80.
30 Paul the Deacon, Historia Langobardorum, 3.6, ed. G. Waitz, Bethmann, MGH Scήptores Rerum
Langobardicarum et Italicarum, saec. VI-IX (Hannover, 1878), 95.
31 See Walter PoW, "Die Gepiden und die Gentes an der mitderen Donau nach dem Zerfall des
Attilareiches," in Die Volker an der mittleren und unteren Donau im fiinften und sechsten Jahrhundert. Berichte
des Symposions der Kommission fiίr Friihmittelalterforschung, 24. bis 27. Oktober 1978, Stift Zwettl,
Niederosterreich, eds. Η. Wolfram and F. Daim (Wien: Verlag der Osteπeichischen Akademie der
Wissenschaften, 1980), 300.
32 Patήck Geary, 'Έthnic Identity as a Situational Construct in the Early Middle Ages," in Ρ. Geary,
Writing History: Identity, Conflict, and Memory in the Middle Ages, eds. F. Curta and C.Spinei (Bucuresti:
Editura Academiei Romane, 2012), 16.
33 Herwig Wolfram, 'Ήοw Many Peoples Are (in) a People?," in Visions cif Community in the Post-Roman
World: The West, Byzantium and the Islamic World 300-1100, eds. W. Pohl, C. Gantner and R. Payne
(London: Roudedge, 2012), 105.
34 Muπay, "Reinhard Wenskus," 58-9.
35 Paul the Deacon, Historia Longobardorum, 3.18, 101. Οη Droctulf, see J.R. Martindale, PLRE, ΠΙΑ
(Cambήdge: CUP, 1992), 425-7; John Moorhead, The Roman Empire Divided, 400-700 (Οχοη:
Roudedge, 2013), 143-4.
36 Agathias, Histories 2.13.3, trans. J.D. Frendo (Berlin/New York: De Gruyter, 1975), 45.
37 Jordanes, Getica, 233, eds. F. Giunta and Α. Grillone (Roma: InstitutoStoήco Italiano per Medio Evo,
1991), 95.
38 Geary, 'Έthnic Identity," 11.
39 See Agathias, Histories, 2.13.3, 45; see also Fredegar, Chronicon, 4.29, ed. J.M. Wallace-Hadήll
(Westport: Greenwood Press, 1981), 19, where a patήcian in the service of queen Brunechildis named
Ricomeήs is said to be "Romano geneήs."
40 Richard Jenkins, Rethinking Ethnicity: Arguments and Explorations (London: SAGE Publications,
2008), 52.
41 Thomas McGuire, Politics and Ethnicity on the Rίο Yaqui: Potam Revisited (Tucson: University of Aήzona
Press, 1986), 43-6; Edmund Leach, Social Anthrop ology (Glasgow: Fontana Paperbacks, 1982), 165;
Sebastien Grammond, Identity Captured by Law. Membership in Canada's Indigenous Peoples and Linguistic
Minorities (Montreal-Κingston: McGill-Queen's University Press, 2009), 15.
42 McGuire, Politics, 43-6; Leach, Social Anth ropology, 165.
43 Maurice, Strategikon, 11.3, ed. G.T. Dennis (Wien: Verlag der Osteπeichischen Akademie der
Wissenschaften, 1981), 368; Eήch Zollner, Geschichte der Franken bis zur Mitte des 6. ]ahrhunderts
(Mίinchen: C.H. Beck, 1970), 152.
44 See Katheήne F. Drew, The Laws cif the Salian Franks (Philadelphia: UPP 1991), 39-41.
45 Trans.: Drew, The Laws, 123.
46 Trans.: Drew, The Laws, 110.
47 See Pactus legis Salicae, xli, 1, in MGH, Leges nationum Germanicarum, vol. IV. 1, ed. Κ.-Α. Eckhardt
(Hannover: Hahn, 1962), 154.
48 See Jack Goody, The Oriental, the Ancient and the Primitive: Systems cif Marriage and the Family in the Pre-
industrial Societies cif Eurasia (Cambήdge: CUP, 1990), 8.
49 Robert Flieπnan, Saxon Identities AD 150-900 (London: Bloomsbury, 2017), 2.
50 Procopius, "Wars," 7.2.4, 167.
51 Procopius, "Wars," 5.12.12-15, 120-1.
52 Edward James, The Origins cif France: From Clovis to the Capetians 500-1000 (London: St. Martin's Press,
1982), 27.
53 Procopius, "Wars," 12.49, 130-1.
54 Isidore ofSeville, 'Ήistoήa Gothorum," 39, in Las Historias de Los Godos, Vandalos y Suevos de Isidoro de
Sevilla, Fuentes y Estudios de Historia Leonesa 13, ed. and trans. C. Rodήguez Alonso (Leon, 1975), 236.
Οη the dating of these councils by regnal years of Theodoήc, see Collins, Visigothic Spain, 41.
55 Οη Theodoήc's Έhepolitik', see Danute Shanzer, "Two Clocks and a Wedding: Theodoήc's
Diplomatic Relations with the Burgundians," Romanobarbarica 14 (1996): 225-58.
136
Barbarian Ethnicity
56 See Robert Kasperski, "Propaganda im Dienste Theodeήchs des Grossen. Die dynastische Tradition
der Amaler in der Histoήa Gothorum Cassiodors," Fruhmittelalterliche Studien 52 (2018): 13-42.
57 Οη the term 'Ίimitic structure," see Jan Assmann, Cultural Memory and Early Civilization: Writing,
Remembrance, and Political Imagination (Cambήdge: CUP, 2011), 133-6.
58 The Story of Wamba: Julian of Toledo's Historia Wambae regis, trans. ]. Martίnez Pizarro (Washington,
DC: Catholic Univ. of Ameήca Press, 2005), 178-9. Ι have changed the whole first sentence. Historia
Wambae regis auctore Iuliano Episcopo Toletano, 1, ed. W. Levison, MGH SRM V (Hannover: Hahn,
1910), 501-2.
59 Origo gentis Langobardorum, c. 1, ed. Georg Waitz, Scriptores rerum Langobardicarum et Italicarum
saec. VI-IX (Hannover, 1878), 2-3.
60 Origo gentis Langobardorum, c. 1, 2-3. Οη this story, see Alheydis Plassmann, Origo Gentis. Identitiits- und
Legitimitiitsstijίung in fruh- und hochmittelalterlichen Herkunftserzahlungen (Berlin: Akademie Verlag Gmbh,
2006), 204-15; Patήck Geary, Women at the Beginning: Origin Myths Form the Amazons to the Virgin
Mary (Pήnceton: PUP, 2006), 22-4; Magli Coumert, Origines des peuples. Les rέcits du Haut Moyen Age
occidental (550-850) (Paήs: Institut d'etudes augustiniennes, 2007), 153-96.
61 Οη beards as a sign of manliness (virilitatis), see Otto Maenchen-Helfen, The World of the Huns. Studies
in their History (Berkeley: UCP, 1973), 361. Οη facial hair in Late Antiquity, see Paul Ε. Dutton,
rif
Charlemagne's Moustache and Other cultural Clusters α Dark Age (New Υork: Palgrave, 2004), 3-42;
Jonathan Arnold, "Theodeήc's Invincible Mustache," JLA 6.1 (2013): 152-83.
62 Paul the Deacon, Historia Longobardorum, 5.2, 142.
64 Vita Barbati Episcopi Beneventani, 4, ed. G. Waitz, MGH Scήptores rerum Langobardicarum et
Italicarum saec. VI-IX, 1 (Hannover, 1878), 558.
66 See Neil Chήstie, The Lombards: The Ancient Longobards (Oxford: Blackwell, 1998), 101, 102-3, 116.
67 See C. W. Previte-Orton, The Shorter Cambridge Medieval History, vol. 1 (London: University Press,
1979), 222. Fήaul has been placed directly under the power of king Cunicpert somewhere between
the years 688 and 700.
68 Mark Humphήes, 'Ίtaly A.D. 425-605," in CAH, ed. Αν. Cameron (Cambήdge: CUP, 2008), 536.
71 Paul the Deacon, Historia Longobardorum, 5.19, 151, and 5.24, 172.
72 See Humphήes, 'Ίtaly A.D. 425-605," 536-7.
74 Paul the Deacon, Historia Longobardorum, 5.6, 146
75 Theophanes, Chronographia, a. m. 6153, ed. C. de Boor, Bd. 1 (Leipzig: Β. G. Teubnneri, 1883), 348;
"Michaelis Pselli Histoήa Syntomos," 79, in Corpusfontium historiae Byzantinae, Vol. 30, ed. W.J. Aerts
(Berlin: Seήe Berolinesis, 1990), 68-9.
76 Robert Browning, The Byzantine Empire (Washington: Catholic University of Ameήca Press,
1992), 38.
77 Philip Gήerson, Byzantine Coins (London: Methuen, 1982), 94.
78 Gήerson, Byzantine Coins, 94.
79 Barry Baldwin, "Physical Descήptions of Byzantine Emperors," Byzantion 51.1 (1981): 19.
80 Baldwin, "Physical Descήptions," 19.
83 Shaun Tougher, "Bearding Byzantium: Masculinity, Eunuchs and the Byzantine Life Course," in
Questions of Gender in Byzantine Society, eds. L. Garland and Β. Neil (London: Routledge, 2013), 161.
84 Shaun Tougher, 'Ίmages of Effeminate Men: The Case of Byzantine Eunuchs," in Masculinity in
Medieval Europe, ed. D. Hadley (Οχοη: Longman, 2014), 89.
85 Tougher, "Bearding," 161, nt. 40.
86 Robert S. Lopez, ''Byzantine Law in the seventh century and its Reception by the Germans and the
Arabs," Byzantion 16. 2 (1942-1943): 445-61.
87 Lopez, ''Byzantine Law," 460.
88 Walter Kaegi, Heraclius: Emperor of Byzantium (Cambήdge: CUP, 2003), 90.
137
Robert Kasperski
90 Michael McCoπnick, Eternal Victory: Triumphal Rulership in Late Antiquity, Byzantium and the Early
Medieval West (Cambήdge: CUP, 1996), 296.
91 Isidore of Seville, Etymologiae, 9.2.1, ed. W.M. Lindsay (Oxonii: Ε Typographeo
Clarendoniano, 1911).
92 Francesco Βοrή, "Romans Growing Beards: Identity and Historiography in Seventh-Century Italy,"
Viator 45.1. (2014): 70.
93 See Walter Goffart, "The Theme of 'The Barbaήan Invasions' in Late Antique and Modern
Histoήography," in Rome's Fall and After, ed. W. Goffart (London-Ronceverte: Hambledon Press,
1989), 114.
94 Goffart, Barbarian Tides, 279, η. 21.
95 Roger Collins, Die Fredegar-Chroniken, MGH (Hannover: Hahnsche Buchhandlung, 2007), 54.
96 Anthony Kaldellis, Hellenism in Byzantium: The Transformations cif Greek Identity and the Reception of the
Classical Tradition (Cambήdge: CUP, 2007), 62.
97 Kaldellis, Hellenism, 62.
98 Βοrή, "Romans," 70.
138
8
ΤΗΕ ELEMENTS OF IDENTITY AS
EXEMPLIFIED ΒΥ FOUR LATE
ANTIQUE ΑUTHORS
Rafal Kosifιski
Ιη his monograph οη Marcellinus Comes, Βήaη Croke makes a very sensible observation that
'Άηy histoήcal work is inevitably permeated and shaped by the perspective and culture of its
1
author." This chapter sets out to define the elements of the identities of four late antique
authors, as based οη the extant body of their works. Ι have chosen the authors from four
different regions of the Roman Empire (all of them active in the course of the same half
century), two of them wήting in Latin (representing Mήca and Illyήcum) and the other two in
Greek (the Eastern part of the Empire and Constantinople).
'Ίdentity" and the "sense of identity" are terms used in a number of fields that tend to
embrace them differently or simply treat them as synonymous notions. For the purpose of
thischapter, the expression "sense of identity" refers to its popular meaning:being aware of one's
own identity, identifying oneself with a definite group, system of values, or a particular region.2
a John Diakrinomenos3
1 The Author and His Work

The Ecclesiastical Histσry by John Diakrinomenos survives only in fragments. The extant text is
incorporated into the Acts of the Second Council of Nicaea (787), 4 a general account of the first
part of this composition in Photius's Bibliσtheca (circa 843), 5 and a concise epitome, with 37
passages, which can be found in the anonymous Epitσme of the Church Histσry, dating from the
early seventh century.6 Ιη all probability, the author composed his work somewhere in the
Eastern part of the Empire, perhaps at Antioch, sometime between the election of Severus to
Bishop of Antioch (16 November 512)7 and the death of the emperor Anastasius (9 July 518),
that is, most likely in the middle of the second decade of the sixth century.8 There is ηο
information onJohn's year of birth, education, or his professional career. All we know from the
Epitσme of his work is thatJohn's uncle was Sylvan, bishop of the Himyaήtes, who encouraged
9
him to wήte his Histσry.
John's Church Histσry was divided into ten books which encompassed a peήod most probably
from the Council ofEphesus (431) up to the beginning ofSeverus's episcopacy at Antioch (the
final record of the Epitσme deals with his election to this office in the year 512). It appears to be
likely that the information relating to the beginnings of this bishop's activity was also included,
DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-10 139

Rafal Kosifιski
as may be suggested by the internal structure of the composition and the fact that the last
preserved extract of the Epitome is incomplete. 10
2 Elements of John's Identity

Any attempt to pick out the details of John's identity is extremely insecure due to the frag
mentary preservation of his composition. We are ultimately left with the transrnission and the
working methods as chosen by the epitomator of the Church Histσry as well as with Photius's
own impression of the composition. The illusory nature of such evidence becomes apparent if
11
we take a look at his incorrect identification ofJohn Diakήnomenos with John ofAigai. Still,
the epitomator's excerpts allow us to discern the main tendencies represented in this eccle
siastical history.
John's nickname (diakrinomenos), oήginally referήng to those "who are hesitant" or those
"who separated themselves," 12 had most probably appeared in the early manuscripts of his
composition as attested by the presence of this designation in the fragment from the Second
Council ofNicaea as well as in the Epitome. It is not known, however, ifthis term served as the
author's form ofself-identification or was an epithet given by a Chalcedonian who might have
used or copied his work.13 Whatever the case, it seems that the term was used in the manuscήpt
that accompanied Theodore Lector's Histσry, thus reaching up to the second decade ofthe sixth
century. During the emperor Anastasius's reign (r. 491-518), the diakrinomenoi had been a non
Chalcedonian group which disavowed Nestorius, Pope Leo's Tome, and Eutyches.14
It does not seem very likely that John would have supported the more extreme Miaphysite
circles. Α passage concerning the Second Council ofEphesus in the year 449 (Epitome 7 [531]),
which, as he believed, "accepted [the teachings] of Eutyches as wrong (κακώς δεξαμένη τα
Εύτυχη)" appears to be crucial here. Since we know that the assembly of 449 had carήed
through the rehabilitation of Eutyches and endorsed his teachings, this fairly ambiguous sen
tence should be most probably understood as a reflection of John's reserve towards this
Constantinopolitan monk and his Christological views, which should rather have been ex
pressed as "[did] wrong [that it] accepted [the teachings] ofEutyches." It is, therefore, possible
that this evident contradiction as to John's position οη the "Robber Council" between Photius,
who states that John had spoken of Dioscorus and the Second Council of Ephesus with re
verence (ην ουτος θειάζει, και τόν ταύτης ήγεμόνα Διόσκορον και τούς συν αύτφ), and the
anonymous author (μέμφεται τft έν Έφέσφ δευτέρ� συνόδφ ώς κακώς δεξαμένn τα Εύτυχη) is
actually only apparent. Although Photius does say that John respected the synod, Dioscorus,
and his followers, he does not mention Eutyches among them. Ιη the Miaphysite circles ofthe
fifth to sixth centuήes, Dioscorus was not a controversial figure. Ιη fact, he was regarded as a
holy man and a victim ofDyophysite manipulations, whereas a majority ofthe same circles had
distanced themselves from Eutyches and denounced his teachings.
According to Photius, John showed much respect, in his History, to the Second Council of
Ephesus (449), Dioscorus, and his supporters, while denigrating the Council ofChalcedon. It can
be seen from the transrnission found in the Epitσme that οη dogmatic issues, John seems to have
been a faithful supporter of Cyήl of Alexandήa and his teachings, because he makes it known
which theologians attacked the 12 anathemas of the Alexandήan patήarch in their wήtings
(Epitome 5-6 [529-530], 13 [537]), referήng to the members ofthe Cyήllian assembly at Ephesus
in 431 as orthodox (Epitome 3 [527]). Οη the other hand, he does not hesitate to display his clearly
anti-Nestoήan (Epitome 4 [528]) and anti-Aήan (Epitσme 14 [538]) sentiments. The author also
points to the political pressures in connection with the Council ofChalcedon in 451 (Epitome 8-9
[532-533]). He appears to castigate the inhabitants ofHierapolis for the murder ofthe messengers
140
Elements of Identity
who delivered Basiliscus's anti-Chalcedon Encyclical to the city (Epitome 17 [541]), but he is also
cήtical of Severus of Sozopolis's peιjury, when the latter prornised to Anastasius he would not
condemn the Council of Chalcedon upon his election to Bishop of Antioch, but he would very
soon break his pledge (Epitome 37 [561]), 15 and he may have also shown his detachment fi:-om
Peter Mongos, who had the remains of Timothy Salophakialos removed fi:-om the Cathedral
Church of Alexandήa (Epitome 18 [542]). 16 The author's picture emerging fi:-om all those pieces of
information as curtailed by the epitomator is that of someone who sympathised with the mod
erate position held by the emperor Anastasius, who was opposed to Nestoήanism, Aήanism, and
also to the Chalcedonian doctήne. It is clear that John holds this ruler in very high regard,
stressing his adamant position in relation to the Persian king Kavadh (Epitome 28 [552]) and
referήng to his abolition of the ch rysaι;gyron, the prohibition of fights with wild animals, and the
buying of public offices (Epitome 29 [553]). The emperor also did ήght (δίκαια) when he elevated
the city of Sergiopolis to the rank of metropolitan see and had the relics of St. Sergius sent there
(Epitome 30 [554]). Furthermore, John believes that the emperor enjoyed the pήvilege of the
divine protection as he had a vision of the Apostle Bartholomew in his sleep, pledging to watch
over the newly built city of Dara (Epitome 34 [558]). 17
Should we compare what we already know about John's views upon our analysis of the
Epitome and the transmission of Photius with the meaning of the designation diakrinomenos, it is
fair to assume that John was more of a moderate opponent of Chalcedon. He condemned the
Eutychian teachings and Nestoήanism, and rejected Pope Leo's Tome, while remaining a
faithful follower of the Chήstological views espoused by Cyήl of Alexandήa, close to the views
held by the emperor Anastasius, who was himself called diakrinomenos by the Liber de sectis (late
sixth to early-seventh centuήes). 18
According to the Epitome, John would have also applauded Lampetios and his followers. 19
The issue ofJohn's relations with the Lampetianist circles has already been analysed by Philippe
Blaudeau, 20 who questioned the attributing of Messalian teachings to them and emphasised the
support that the presbyter Lampetios enjoyed among certain members of the episcopate.
However, it is noteworthy that in his anti-Messalian dossier, Photius misrepresented Lampetios
as the first Messalian clergyman, 2 1 while among those who would have reputedly embraced the
trend are members of the church hierarchy at least since the time of the synod of
Constantinople (426). 22 Ιη his letter addressed to Rufus of Thessalonica, Bishop John of
Antioch reproached Cyήl of Alexandria for aligning himself, duήng the Council of Ephesus
(431), with the individuals condemned by the other Churches, including the Euchites, while in
his letter to Theodosius ΙΙ, he refers to 12 Messalian bishops from Pamphylia who had parti
cipated in a Cyrillian gatheήng at Ephesus, but one must be aware of a polernical nature of such
texts. 23 Ιη consequence, the sympathy for Lampetios as shown by Bishop Alpheios of
Rhinokoroura or mentioning his name in the liturgy of that Church do not seem to be ar
guments that would clearly deflect the accusations of Messalianism from Lampetios and, by
extension, fromJohn Diakήnomenos as well. Let us emphasise again that Messalianism was not,
at the time, a well-organised movement with a clearly defined doctrine, but a particular trend in
asceticism, apparently quite an inspiήng one, as it managed to arouse both sympathy among the
monastic circles (and the clergy in general) and at the same time provoked heated polernical
backlash from its opponents. It is notable that we know of Severus's rejection of Lampetios's
Testament thanks to the transmission left by Photius24 and Zachaήas Scholasticus. 25 Severus
wrote it, reportedly, sometime before his episcopacy, that is, before the year 512, which would
imply that John Diakήnomenos was very likely aware of the fact that Severus was strongly
opposed to Lampetios. If then, as the epitomator recounts, John was close to the followers of
Lampetios, his attitude to Severus should have been definitely negative.
141
Rafal Kosifιski
The last element ofJohn's identity which may be discerned from the fragrnentary remains of
his composition is associated with his regional identification. He appears primaήly interested in
the life of the Church in the Eastern part of the Roman Empire and what was happening in
Persia under the rule of the shahanshah Kavadh (Epitσme 27-28 [551-552], 33 [557], 36 [560]).
Ιη his History, he recounts the events which concern or take place in many locations such as
Antioch (Epitome 2 [525], 16 [540], 20-21 [544-545], 23 [547], 37 [561]), Edessa (Epitome 6
[530], 8 [532], 22 [546], 24 [548]), Constantinople (Epitome 3 [527], 8 [532], 13 [537], 20
[544]), Hierapolis (Epitσme 17 [541], 26 [550]), Rome (Epitome 25 [549], 32 [556]), Ephesus
(Epitome 2-3 [526-527], 7 [531]), Alexandήa (Epitome 18-19 [542-543]), Chalcedon (Epitome
9-10 [533-534]), the Oasis (Epitome 4 [528]), Samosata (Epitσme 6 [530]), Germanicea (Epitome
10 [534]), Seleucia (Epitome 16 [540]), Sergiopolis (Epitome 30 [554]), Neocaesarea (Epitσme 31
[555]), Dara (Epitome 34 [558]), or are generally related to Egypt (Epitome 11 [535]) and Arabia
(Epitome 1 [525], 35 [559]). The record about Lampetios is generally connected with the East
(Epitome 15 [539]). As we can see, as many as six records (out of 37) concern affairs or events
taking place beyond the frontiers of the Roman Empire. Apart from these, the greatest number
(19) of records refers to the diocese of the Oήent. The author reports οη the situation in
Alexandήa twice, while refeπing to Constantinople four times. Ιη turn, three records οη
Ephesus and two οη Chalcedon are connected with the councils held there at the time. As a
result, it could be said that the main subject matter of John's composition is the history of the
Church of the Patήarchate of Antioch, with some references to the places outside the teπitoήes
of the Empire. When John goes beyond the Eastern Roman Empire, it is usually only to
recount the significant events from the life of the Church (councils, Henotikon). 26
Consequently, the excerpts from John's History represent a definitely non-Constantinopolitan
perspective as they tend to focus οη events taking place in the diocese of the Oήent or beyond
the frontiers of the Empire. The only extant fragrnent ofJohn's Histσry is concerned with the
iconoclastic teachings of Philoxenus of Hierapolis, while the first five books of the composition
(as transmitted by Photius) would have reportedly ended with the deposition of Bishop Peter
the Fuller from the See of Antioch. It should also be noted that the division into books does not
coπespond with the reigns of the particular emperors, but it can be coπelated to some extent
with the successions of the particular bishops of Antioch, because Book V is thought to have
finished with an account of Peter the Fuller's deposition, while the final record in the Epitome is
dedicated to Severus of Sozopolis's consecration. Unfortunately, consideήng its state of pre
servation, the fragrnentary transmission of John's Histσry does not make it possible to validate
this hypothesis with certainty. Whatever the case may be, it would be a safe bet to say that it was
connected with the events important from the perspective of the Antiochene Church.27
Very little can be said aboutJohn's linguistic or ethnic identity, except for the fact that
he composed his work in Greek. There is also one mention referring to the Syriac lan
guage, but it is insufficient to deduce if he may have known that language.28 Ιη his opinion
onJohn's Greek, Photius stated it was "lucid and flowery,"29 which would suggest that he
may have received some classical education, yet nothing certain can be said about its
character.
3 Moderate Non-Chalcedonian from the Diocese of the Orient

John's History is wήtten from the perspective of the diocese of the Oήent and, for the most part,
deals with the region he was most strongly attached to, concentrating οη Antioch and the
bishops of this city. It also shows much concern about the life of the Christian communities in
142
Persia as well as in the south of the Arabian Peninsula, which may reflect his personal in
volvement in his uncle's mission.
Ιη the religious matters he considers most important to him, he is clearly opposed to
Arianism while taking a moderately anti-Chalcedonian stance οη the controversy over the
Council of Chalcedon. Firmly opposed to Severus of Antioch, he identifies himself with the
religious position of the emperor Anastasius, whom he holds in high esteem.
b Theodore Lector
1 The Author
As in the case of John, we have limited details about Theodore. All the rudimentary pieces of
information can be found basically in three sources: there are two accounts refeπing to him,
one in the lexicon Sσuda, 30 while the other is a scholion in the manuscήpt Cσdex Athous
Vatopedi 28631 (V) Epitσme, and an introduction to his Histσria Tripartita, 32 where Theodore
included some details conceming himself Το these records, we may also add some indirect
information contained in the Epitome of his composition.
Likewise, his date of birth remains unknown. All we know is that Theodore must have
become a lector at the Great Church of Constantinople33 before the year 511, when Patriarch
Macedonius was deposed from the See of Constantinople. At the time, Theodore could have
been as young as 20 years old, but might have just as well been much older. His background is
just as obscure as we possess only one imprecise record from a scholion in Manuscήpt V,
according to which Θεόδωρος ό τού έντολέως έπανομαζόμενος-Τheσdσre, called "the σne frσm
the procuratσr. " At that time, the term procurator would refer to the administrator of an estate
nominated by the wealthy owner, but also acting in the capacity of a tήal attomey.34
Unfortunately, the authenticity of this mention is now practically impossible to confirm.
Theodore had likely received an education appropήate to young cleήcs, perhaps at one of the
many monasteries of Constantinople, 35 although the language of his Histσry wήtten in the Attic
dialect would suggest that he might have also obtained some form of classical education.
Theodore began writing his work at Gangra, where he was banished most probably οη the
strength of the orders given in connection with the deposition of Patήarch Macedonius in 511,
which entailed sentences of exile for many of his followers.36 Initially, Theodore and
Macedonius were likely sent off to Euchaϊta, but the threat of an impending raid by the Sabirs
in late 515 made them leave the city and escape to Gangra.37 Theodore would stay there and
accompany the bishop until his death (most likely οη 25 Apήl 516).38 He dedicated his work to
a clergyman of Gangra, possibly a local bishop as the forms of address used by the author would
indicate.39 It was most likely Bishop Theodotos, who was present in Constantinople οη 15 July
518. 40 Quite possibly, he may have been accompanied duήng that visit by Theodore, who
retumed to the capital in connection with the pro-Chalcedon tumaround beginning upon the
emperor Justin's ήse to power. This major change paved the way for the Chalcedonian clergy,
who were institutionally suppressed under Anastasius, to retum to their Churches.41
Theodore was the author of the Church Histσry which was composed of two distinct parts:
the so-called Histσria Tripartita (a compilation of three church histories that constituted the
continuations of the work by Eusebius of Caesarea: of Socrates, Sozomen, and Theodoret)
and his own follow-up to that compilation: Church Histσry encompassing the years from 439
to 518. The two parts formed one volume and were intended as one comprehensive history
of the Church from the time where Eusebius's work ended up to and including Theodore's
lifetime.42
143
Rafal Kosifιski
2 Elements of Theodore's Identity in the Light of the Surviving Legacy

The state of Theodore Lector's Church History as presently preserved raises some reservations,
which are similar to those in the case ofJohn Diakήnomenos discussed above.The body of the
mateήal at our disposal consists of nine fragments of the oήginal Histσry, an extensive (though
incomplete) Epitome, with as many as 155 extracts, and a number of references in later
Byzantine literature, either to the oήginal or to the Epitσme. Apart from the introduction to the
Histσria Tripartita, Theodore neither wήtes in the first person nor uses possessive pronouns,
hence it is possible to draw some conclusions only indirecdy, through analysing the contents of
the work (affected by the epitomator's impact).
Ιη his introduction to the Historia Tripartita, Theodore states that he composed his work at
43
the request of a local clergyman of Gangra, but he does not identify himself with this town
44
and makes it clear that he is a guest there. Which localitywould he have then identified
himself with? He was a lector of the Great Church exiled from Constantinople and it is very
likely he would have recognised the capital of the Empire as his home city. This conclusion
finds validation in an analysis ofTheodore's geographical hoήzon as the events portrayed in the
Church Histσry take place mostly in Constantinople. It can be seen very well even in a statistical
dimension: out of 155 passages in the Epitome as many as 94 (61%) concentrate οη
Constantinople, 13 οη Antioch (8%), 12 οη Alexandήa (8%), 9 οη the Diocese of the Oήent in
general (6%), and 6 οη Rome (4%). The other locations across the Empire (e.g., Palestine)
feature in the Epitome only very rarely.
This statistical enumeration could be compared with a similar calculation made by Philippe
Blaudeau, who notes that out of 87 passages drawn from Theodore's composition for a peήod
from the year 439 to 491, 34 are dedicated to the events in Constantinople, 20 in Antioch, 19
in Alexandήa, 5 in Rome, while it contains ηο passages concerning Jerusalem or, generally,
45
Palestine. Ιη effect, in the part analysed by the French histoήan, the events taking place in the
46
capital city would have only accounted for 39% of the passages. Even if we recall the fact that
what he subjected to analysis was the Epitσme in the form reconstructed by Hansen, and not just
those passages which can be found in the extant manuscήpts of the Epitome, it appears obvious
that Theodore's interest in the capital is definitely prominent in the part where he recounts the
events known first-hand or from oral transmission. When he descήbes some earlier occur
rences, recreated from wήtten sources, he is more likely to refer to the places other than
Constantinople.
The Epitome's concentration οη the capital city is therefore not the epitomator's own choice,
but more of a reflection of Theodore's interest. Even if similar proportions in the surviving
fragments of the oήginal text of the Ecclesiastical History do not provide evidence in this matter
(five out of nine passages take place at the capital, which makes up 56%), as their preservation
resulted from some accidental causes, the highlighting of Constantinople's role also in the
Chronicle by Victor of Tunnuna (drawing οη Theodore's work) must somehow reflect the
tendencies of the oήginal. Ιη the part of the Chrσnicle that overlaps withTheodore's Histσry and
constitutes basically its summary, Constantinople is the setting in 37 out of 85 records (44%).
Ιη his accounts of the events taking place in Constantinople,Theodore also demonstrates his
excellent knowledge of the topography of this city, which is evident in fragment 1 [52a] of his
Histσry, where the case of the Αήaη man named Olympios is descήbed. Ιη this particular
fragment, the author shows his familiaήty with the details of the Baths of the Hellenianai, the
picture from the Hellenianai Palace, but he also knows the founder of the Church of Saint
Stephen at the Aurelianai. Generally speaking, Theodore appears very well acquainted with the
churches, squares, and baths of Constantinople. Ιη the extant fragments of the History as well as
144
ιη the Epitσme, Theodore Lector refers to the Constantinopolitan regions of Amanthios

(Epitσme 59 [394]), the Blachernai (Epitome 28 [363]), Sykai (Epitσme 99 [440]), Chalkoprateia
(Epitσme 28 [363], 140 [494]), the Hippodrome (Epitσme 64 [400]), the Octagon (Epitσme 68
[404]), the Forum Tauή (Epitσme 30 [365]), Peήteichisma (Fr. 1 [52a]), the Neorion harbour
(Epitσme 59 [394]), as well as the Baths of the Hellenianai (Fr. 1 [52a], Epitome 115 [465]) and
Zeuxippos (Epitome 82 [420], 136 [490]). Even better represented are the churches of the capital
city: Saint Anastasia (Epitσme 59 [394]), Theotokos ofChalkoprateia (Epitσme 140 [494]), Saint
Kyήakos (Epitome 49 [384]), the Hodegon (Epitσme 28 [363]), John the Baptist (Epitσme 49
[384]), Michael the Archangel (Epitσme 129 [483]), Saint Stephen of the Aurelianai (Fr. 1 [52a])
and St. Stephen in the Daphne Palace (Epitσme 95 [436]), the Holy Aposdes (Fr. 1 [52a],
Epitome 22 [357]), Saint Thecla (Epitσme 99 [440]), Saint Thomas the Apostle (Epitσme 59
[394]), the Great Church (Epitσme 121 [474]) and the Church of the Concord (Fr. 1 [52a]),
47
with some of the founders and the monastery of Dalmatos also mentioned (Epitome 134
[488]). Theodore is likewise familiar with the outskirts of the city such as the Hebdomon
(Epitσme 9 [344], 19 [354]), Anaplus (Epitome 50 [385]), and Chalcedon (Epitσme 25
[360]-Church of Saint Euphernia; 55 [390]-Church of Saint Bassa). Consideήng that
Theodore is rather poorly acquainted with the topography of such major cities as Antioch,
Alexandria, and Rome, there can be ηο doubt thatConstantinople is the city where he resides.
It should also be stressed that Constantinople is not only the main scene of the events
descήbed by the author, but it also stands for the Church that he treats with esteem as it had
come to play the role of the champion of orthodoxy in the East by the mid-fifth century
through adopting and developing the Antiochene theology.48 Ιη this particular context,
Theodor's work praises theChalcedonian orthodoxy which he adheres to and offers a cήtique
of heresy, especially Miaphysitism and Aήanism. The latter case is noteworthy in particular
since the question of the Αήaη faith is present not only throughout the previously mentioned
excerpt 1 [52a] of the Histσry, 49 but also in the seven passages in its Epitome. 50 Theodore cites
the name of the Αήaη bishop ofConstantinople, but he also provides some anecdotes οη the life
ofTheodoήc the Great in Italy. Additionally, he is critical of the Manichaean movement, even
though the term as it is used in the Epitσme just serves as a negative label aimed at the opponents
ofChalcedon.5 1 Ιη effect, Theodore's composition can be seen as an apologetic defence of the
Council of Chalcedon and the council's later advocates as well as perhaps a sort of a polernic
reacting to the anti-Chalcedonian works by Zachaήas and John Diakήnomenos.52 Theodore
Lector castigates all the opponents of the council: the radical Eutychians, members of the
moderate anti-Chalcedonian faction (who dissociated themselves from Eutyches's teachings),
and the Apollinaήsts, branding them all as one group of heretics.53
Theodore rejects all attempts to seek a compromise with the Miaphysites54 and paints very
favourable pictures of Theodore of Mopsuestia, whom he defends against accusations of the
Νestoήan heresy (Epitσme 3-4 [338-339], 6 [341]), and Theodoret of Cyπhus (Intrσductiσn to
the Histσria Tripartita), but he denounces the Theopaschite addition to the Trishagion hymn
(Epitσme 55 [390], 74 [410], 87 [427], 129 [483]; Victor ofTunnuna, Chrσnicσn, s.a. 513). He is
also very clearly cήtical of the condemnation of the leading figures of Dyophysitism by the
Council of Ephesus (449), including Domnos of Antioch, Theodoret of Cyπhus, Ibas of
Edessa, as well as their later anathematization by Flavian of Antioch (Epitome 12 [347]; Victor of
Tunnuna, Chrσnicσn, s.a. 448-449).
Ιη his view, the real advocates of orthodoxy are the people of Constantinople and the
monastic centres of the capital city rather than the bishops who could be prone to pressure by
the followers of Miaphysitism.55 The papacy provides support to the Chalcedonians of
Constantinople as Rome is not just the advocate of orthodoxy, but the persecuted faithful may
145
Rafal Kosifιski
find refuge there. 56 Theodore exalts the pro-Chalcedon rulers Marcian, Leo Ι, and Justin Ι as
well as those members of the high-ranking clergy who defended the decrees of the council, in
particular the bishops of Constantinople Gennadius, Euphemius, and Macedonius, while he has
nothing but words of censure for the adversaries of Chalcedon. 57
Theodore's appraisal of the individual emperors is also very closely related to their activity in
the field of Church affairs. The rulers who offered support to the Miaphysitic cause
(Theodosius ΙΙ, Basiliscus, Zeno, Anastasius) are descήbed as corrupt and weak, whereas those
who abided by the determinations of Chalcedon (Marcian, Leo Ι, Justin) are represented as
outstanding and strong figures. 58 Likewise, the infrequent references to the supernatural phe
nomena in the extant mateήal serve as arguments in favour of the Chalcedonian orthodoxy, and
thus reinforced by the strength of true miracles, and at the same time against the heresies of
Miaphysitism and Arianism, whose proponents would communicate false signs to the faithful. 59
3 Constantinopolitan Adνocate of Chalcedon

Despite the fact that Theodore's composition is preserved to a much larger extent than John's
Histσry, its decisively apologetic character makes it possible to distinguish only two dominant
elements of the author's identity. First of all, he is a citizen of Constantinople and the capital is
his home city. It is with Constantinople, and in particular with the Church of Constantinople,
that he is most strongly connected. Οη the other hand, Theodore aligns himself with the
Chalcedonian orthodoxy in the first place and is ready to take a strongly cήtical view of those
bishops of Constantinople who, in his opinion, were not determined enough to resist those
who attempted to question the decrees of the council (Acacius) or, even worse, were overtly
opposed to them (Timothy).
It is significant that his attachment to the cause of Chalcedon is completely un
compromising. Ιη his History, he defends the orthodoxy of Theodore of Mopsuestia and voices
his opposition to the Theopaschite formula. Ιη the era of the emperor Justinian's neo
Chalcedonian policy one of the pήncipal aspects of which was an attempt to seek compromise
with the more moderate non-Chalcedonian party exactly οη the foundation of the
Theopaschite formula, as well as the condemnation of the bishop of Mopsuestia's wήtings and
the anti-Cyήllian works of Theodoret and Ibas, a composition in favour of such a relentlessly
radical approach would have met with a positive response only among the dissident circles.
c Marcellinus Comes
1 The Author
What we know about Marcellinus comes fi:-om his own Chronicle and the work Institutiones by
Cassiodorus. 60 Marcellinus was a native of Illyήcum, which is why this province is given some
attention in his work. 6 1 Ιη the Chrσnicle's praifatio, he identifies himself as comes and vir clarissimus,
while in his Institutiones Cassiodorus mentions that Marcellinus served as the cancelarius to Justinian
before the latter's accession to the throne (the author refers to him as patricius). 62 Cassiodorus also
recounts that Marcellinus was the author of a work in four books οη the nature of events and the
location of places he had visited63 as well as a detailed account οη Constantinople and Jerusalem
(also in four books). 64 There is a descήption of the town Dara (in the form of a digression) in the
Chronicle, 65 which may have come fi:-om the former four-book composition. 66
The sole completely preserved composition of Marcellinus Comes is his Chrσnicle encom
passing a peήod from the year 378 to 534, which was oήginally conceived as a follow-up to the
146
work by Jerome of Stήdon. Its first recension was wήtten around the year 518, then com
plemented with a number of notes spanning the next 16 years. It is very likely that Marcellinus
may have composed his work in Constantinople as the capital is given much attention in his
wήtings, including many details of urban life.67 The chronicle is aπanged according to the
annalist system, clearly in irnitation of Jerome's style. The sources of the author's knowledge
were the Latin works by Orosius and Gennadius of Marseilles (used quite extensively), a list of
popes, some unidentified source based οη a chronicle of Constantinople, the Dialσgue on John
Chrysostom by Palladius, and some account οη the finding of John the Baptist's head.68
Marcellinus also provides plenty of details known first-hand, especially those concerning events
from Illyricum and Constantinople.
2 Elements of Marcellinus's Identity as Found in His Chronicle

Unlike the first two authors discussed above, we have the complete work ofMarcellinus's Chrσnicle
at our disposal, which makes it possible to see a more coherent picture of the author. It is clear that
Marcellinus underscores there his self-identification with the world ofLatin-based culture. Ενeη in
the praifatiσ, he makes a clear distinction between Eusebius (Greek language) and Jerome L ( atin),
referring to the latter as nσster. The latter figure is descήbed so οη two other occasions: s.a. 380,
where the Greek-language author Gregory ofNazianzus is associated with 'Όur" Jerome, who was
reputedly Gregory's disciple, and s.a. 392.2, where the author appends his laudatory biographical
note, stressing his own connection with him as a Roman and a catholic.69 Moreover, Marcellinus
makes ample use of the two surviving Latin-language sources: Histσriarum libri VII adversus paganσs
by Orosius, De viris ilustribus by Gennadius of Marseilles, as well as some unspecified lists of popes.
The last source he had used in extensσ was some unidentified Constantinopolitan chronicle.70 Ιη his
own Chrσnicle, being partly influenced by Gennadius's work, he also refers to the following Latin
authors: Ambrose of Milan (s.a. 398.2, 398.4), Orosius (s.a. 416.1), Augustine (s.a. 429.2),
Eucheήus ofLugdunum (s.a. 456.2), and Prosper of Aquitaine (s.a. 463). He also cites Claudian
(s.a. 399.1) and refers to Plautus (s.a. 496.2).71
The sign ificant role of the Constantinopolitan chronicle as Marcellinus's source and the
extensive use of this particular work testify to the author's attachment to the place where he
pursued his career: the city of Constantinople. The Chrσnicle bears traces of his living in the
Greek-speaking rnilieu of Constantinople, the evidence of which are some Greek expressions
found in the text.72 However, the close connection with the capital is evident especially in the
fact that accounts of many events, in particular those relating to urban development or natural
disasters, do not even bήng up the name of the city. As the terse information such as at s.a.
421.3 (Cisterna Aetii cσnstructa est) is given, it is obvious that the author expects his audience to
know that it happened in Constantinople. Although Rome is called "the famed city" (s.a. 392:
Rσma inclita), Marcellinus favours Constantinople by refeπing to it variously as "impeήal
city," 73 "royal city," 74 or simply the City.75 Towards the end of the Chrσnicle, the dating system
according to the Constantinopolitan era comes up (s.a. 527 and 528: Annσ regiae urbis cσn
ditae ... ). Besides, the capital city is the main setting for the events depicted in the Chrσnicle, and
the Constantinopolitan buildings and statues are also often descήbed throughout the compo
sition. As can be seen by this focus, the city οη the Bosphorus is the place where Marcellinus
lived, and he knew it very well.
Νonetheless, Marcellinus does not ignore the Western part of the Roman Empire. Despite
his initial statement from the praifatiσ to the effect that he would follow the events in the
Eastern Roman Empire,76 the amount of attention focused οη the West is surprisingly con
siderable. Well over 50 records concern the events (mosdy political) in the Western Roman
147
Rafal Kosifιski
Empire in the fourth and fifth centuήes, while he refers to just one occurrence in Alexandήa
(s.a. 389.4: the destruction of the Serapis temple) and one at Antioch (s.a. 526: earthquake)!
There is only a litde more information regarding Jerusalem, but always in the context of re
ligion.77 It is different in the case ofMarcellinus's native Balkan region. Even though he never
refers to the Balkan provinces as his homeland, Thrace, Europe, Pannonia, Dacia, Macedonia,
Moesia, Thessaly, Dardania, Illyricum, and Greece are mentioned more than 30 times, often
providing information unattested in other sources.78
Next to being "Roman," being "catholic" (stressed in the case ofJerome) is another crucial
characteristic of Marcellinus. Ιη the matters of religious doctrine, the author identifies himself
very clearly with the believers in the consubstantiality of the Father and the Son, whom he
ordinaήly refers to as "catholic" (s.a. 379; s.a. 380; s.a. 381.1).79 The emperor Theodosius, who
established the Nicene orthodoxy as the officially obligatory definition of faith in the Roman
Empire, is not only called orthodox here (s.a. 380: σrthodoxus), but also vir ad mσdum religiosus et
cathσlicae ecclesiae propagator (s.a. 379.1: He was α singularly religiσus man and propagator rif the Cathσlic
church). Marcellinus's affiliation with the Nicene credo is further confirmed in particular by his
usage of the pronoun noster with reference to the believers in the Nicene definition of faith (s.a.
381.1: nostris catholicis) as well as referήng in the same way to the church of the homousians in
Constantinople (twice s.a. 380; s.a. 399.3; s.a. 431.2). At s.a. 429.1, he reports that the church of
the Macedonians in Constantinople was taken over by the σrthodσxi nostri. Gregory of
Nazianzus endured insults from his heretical opponents and resisted the deceitful lies of the
Aήans (s.a. 380: peιjidii obstitit Arrianis).
Ιη the pήncipal doctήnal dispute of his time, the controversy over the Council of
Chalcedon, the author firmly aligns himself with the followers of this assembly, which he
descήbes as sexcentorum triginta patrum sancta et universalis synodus (s.a. 45180: α holy and universal
synod rif six hundred and thirty fathers), and he regards the emperor Marcian, who summoned the
council, as the most erninent emperor, even greater than Theodosius Ι (s.a. 379.1). Further οη,
he refers to the pro-Chalcedon Chήstians as 'Όrthodox" and their faith as 'Όrthodox" multiple
times,81 whereas the adversaries of the council are represented in definitely negative terms. For
example, Eutyches is called "the leader of the most impious monks," 82 the followers of the
insertion to the Tήshagion hymn are labelled as Theopaschists,83 the synod of Sidon is de
scήbed as infamem et inridendam synodum, which assembled about 80 peιjidorum episcσpis (s.a.
512.8), while Amantius, Andrew,Mishael, and Ardabur are called "supporters ofManichaeism"
(s.a. 519.2), which was a derogatory term used to refer toMiaphysites. It is of course difficult to
determine, simply οη the basis of the evidence from the Chrσnicle, how thorough Marcellinus's
knowledge of theology may have been, but the information relating to Basiliscus (Nestσriana
peιjidia intumescens cσnatur adsuιger) may point to the fact that he would not delve very deeply
into the complexities of faith, especially as he refers to or cites some authors accused of
Nestoήanism in positive contexts.84
The allegiance to the Nicene definition of faith and the decrees of Chalcedon is closely
associated with the Illyrian loyalty to the bishops of Rome. Marcellinus cites a complete list of
the popes, enumerating them as successors ofSaint Peter or bishops of the Church ofRome.85
The prominent position of the papacy, as reflected in Marcellinus's Chronicle, is clearly seen in
the fact that the information οη the bishops ofRome (except for Zosimos (s.a. 417.3), Leo (s.a.
440.2), Simplicius (s.a. 467.2), and Gelasius (s.a. 494.3) is given as first at a specific year entry.86
The record s.a. 525 is particularly noteworthy here asMarcellinus is apparently proud of the fact
that Pope John was received with great honours in Constantinople.87 Unlike the precise
presentation of the papal successions, the enumeration of the bishops of Constantinople is only
partial, always in the context of events associated with a specific figure,88 and the opinion is
148
sometimes unfavourable; for example, s.a. 430.3-Nestoήus seen as a heretic; s.a.

511-Timothy takes over the office after the removal of Macedonius. Οη the other hand, it can
be seen that some descήptions of the bishops of Constantinople are quite extensive as in the case
of the very laudatory record onJohn Chrysostom (s.a. 398.3). The other bishops are mentioned
only sporadically and only in the context of specific events. It is also notable that Marcellinus
refers to the patήarchs of the Church of Alexandria only in the context of facts connected with
the Church of Constantinople or the Chήstological controversy.89
Α particularly interesting record is s.a. 516.3, where the author reports that the emperor
Anastasius was afraid of the catholic soldiers from Illyricum. The tone of the information reflects
the author's pήde in the orthodoxy of his fellow Illyrians whose orthodox loyalty held the ruler
in check and prevented him from doing any harm to the Illyήan bishops held captive in
Constantinople. Ιη addition, the same record contains a descήption of the miraculous healing of
Bishop Laurence of Lychnidos (who was firmly opposed to the emperor's religious views),
which makes the transmission of Marcellinus's pro-Chalcedon message even stronger.
3 Roman Catholic from Illyricum

Το sum, Marcellinus comes from the Latin-speaking cultural milieu ofillyήcum and despite the
long years spent in Constantinople, he would show his lasting attachment to the Latin language
and culture. He is equally averse to Arians, the enemies of the Council of Chalcedon, and those
he sees as barbaήans in the Balkan provinces. Moreover, he feels a strong connection with the
bishops of Rome, whose pontificates he enumerates with accuracy, as well as with the Latin
West, to which he dedicates much attention in his Chrσnicle. He identifies himself with the
Chήstians loyal to the Council of Chalcedon and religious affairs occupy a prominent position
in his work. Wήting from the perspective of Constantinople, he demonstrates a strong at
tachment to this city. It could be observed that there is even a certain shift of emphasis from the
Western Mediteπanean into the East. First of all, in addition to the indiction system,
Marcellinus makes use of the consular dating system, but he aπanges them in accordance with
the Eastern order, omitting the consuls who were unrecognised in the East.90 Ιη the course of
the years covered in his composition, his interest in the affairs of the West would fade and
following the arήval of Theodoric and the Goths in Italy, they would lose significance to him
completely. It seems that his interest in the West is limited to the time when it was Roman.
d Victor of Tunnuna
1 The Author
We do not have much information οη Victor's background and his early clerical career. Ιη fact,
nearly all the details about this author come from his Chronicle, though there is some com
plementary information to be found in the De viris illustribus by Isidore of Seville (as one of the
chapters is dedicated to Victor).91
The exact date of his birth is unknown, but the fact that he was still alive after the emperor
Justinian's death allows us to conclude that he was likely born in the early sixth century or
maybe even in the last decade of the fifth century.92 Likewise, we do not know when Victor
may have become bishop of one of the municipalities in northern Mήca, probably known as
Tunnuna (the exact location remains unknown). The first biographical information about
Victor can be found only in s.a. 555 of his Chrσnicle: for his opposition to Justinian's policy οη
the condemnation of the Three Chapters, he was initially deported to the Baleaήc Islands,
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afterwards he relocated first to the Mandracum monastery at Carthage, then to the island of
Aegimuritana, and eventually exiled to Egypt (along with Bishop Theodore of Cabarsussi).93
He would never retum to Roman northern Mήca again. We have ηο precise information οη
the time of his aπest and deportation, but it must have taken place sometime in the first half of
the 550s.94 Victor was staying in Egypt for as long as a decade until the year 564, when he was
finally recalled, together with Theodore of Cabarsussi, toConstantinople, where he was to take
part in a debate, in the emperor's presence, οη the Three Chapters with Patήarch Eutychius. As
the Mrican bishops remained steadfast in their defence of the documents denounced οη
Justinian's orders, Victor was confined to one of theConstantinopolitan monasteήes, where he
95
would live until the emperor's death.
According to the transmission by Isidore of Seville, Victor died in exile.96 As a result,
scholarss traditionally assumed that he died in 567 (the final year of his Chronicle) or immediately
thereafter, but in any case, pήor to the emperor Justin II's amnesty for religious dissidents
(567).97 It is believed that Isidore may have drawn this piece of information from John of
Biclar's transmission,98 and the latter author (present inConstantinople until the year 575) is the
main source οη the shift in the religious policy under the rule of Justin 11.99 Altematively,
Carmen Cardelle de Hartmann has recently put forward a proposition according to which
Victor may have died sometime later, between the years 568 and 575,100 which may be implied
by several passages in his Chronicle (hitherto considered as additions from a later peήod).101 Ιη
any event, it seems that the question of the date of Victor's death is still open.
The only known work wήtten by Victor is his Chronicle, which in its preserved form spans a
peήod from the year 444 to 565 and is, should we believe the praescriptio, a follow-up to the
Chronicle by Prosper of Aquitaine. 102 This view has been disputed in modem histoήography and
it is now commonly assumed that the extant Chronicle is only a part of a larger, unfortunately,
lost composition (Universal Chronicle) which was a kind of epitσme out of the similar works by
Jerome and Prosper (beginning from the Creation). Victor's own Chronicle was conceived
exactly as a continuation of that work.103
Victor began wήting his chronicle in Constantinople, where, as we have discussed, he was
held in confinement after the failed colloquium with Patήarch Eutychius in 564. It is possible that
his incentive to wήte the Chrσnicle was the emperor Justinian's death and his wish to make a
recapitulation of the changes taking place in the Church duήng his reign. The surviving part of
Victor's composition was intended to be a continuation to Prosper's Chrσnicle, yet thematically
this is a different work that combines the chronicle form with the contents more typical of
church history, with a comparatively small number of references to political events.104 For this
reason, it could even be called a kind of an Ecclesiastical Chronicle. One might conclude that
Victor's main objective was to create a polemical work designed to defend the determinations
of the Council of Chalcedon in the first place against the Miaphysite movement, then against
those Chalcedonians who pursued the campaign aimed at condemning the Three Chapters. 105
2 Elements of Victor's Identity as Found in His Chronicle

Ιη spite of his background and the fact that he spent most of his life in Mήca, where he was
educated and served as a bishop, Victor gives most of his attention to the affairs of the Eastem
half of the Empire, as he believes that this state constitutes the natural extension of the Roman
Empire. The emperors ofConstantinople are not only descήbed as "emperors of the Romans,"
which is quite obvious considering the period, but the rulers are numbered throughout the
Chronicle, beginning from Marcian, in accordance with the sequence in the Eastem Roman
Empire, while the emperors in the West are defined as those wielding the impeήal authoήty,
150
and thus Marcian is enumerated as the 47th emperor of theRomans, Leo-48th, Zeno-49th,
106
Anastasius-50th,Justin-51st,Justinian-52nd. Only the successor to the latter is not given
the number according to the emperors' sequence, even though he is twice mentioned as
"emperor of the Romans."107 This is in stark contrast to the Western Roman emperors.
Although Valentinian ΠΙ is represented as Augustus, and once as Imperator, 108 his successor,
Maximus, is only descήbed as the one who wields power, just as Avitus, Majoήan, Severus,
Anthernius, and Olybήus.109 Romulus (named as Herculanus here) had only attempted to
assume the authoήty,110 and after the death ofRomulus, Nepos would only take up power in
the kingdom.111 Subsequently,Victor loses interest in the political affairs ofitaly until the year
554, where he states, in just one sentence, that the eunuch Narses defeated the Gothic king
Totila.112 This mention is all the more surpήsing, because earlier οη in the text the author
makes ηο reference toTotila's ascendancy in Italy or the Goths being in power there. Similarly,
he fails to mention the success ofBelisaήus's campaign (even though Victor is mostly aware of
the general's role in the regaining of Afi-ica for the Roman Empire).113
The enumeration of the emperors in Victor's work is a follow-on fi-om the similar list that
can be found in the Chronicle by Prosper of Aquitaine, with the difference that Prosper
numbered the rulers who held the authoήty jointly in accordance with the seniority of the
Augustus title. Accordingly, following the death ofTheodosius Ι in 395, Arcadius became the
44th emperor, but after his death in 408 and the elevation ofTheodosius ΙΙ to Augustus in the
East as the 45th emperor, the chronicler recognises his uncle Honoήus, who ruled in the West
since the year 395, and it would be only after his death in 423 thatTheodosius gained his place
in the Chronicle as the 46th emperor.114 It appears that Prosper is not biased in favour of either
part of theRoman Empire.The situation is different, however, in the case ofVictor's Chronicle
as upon the death of Theodosius ΙΙ in 450, he should have recognised the Western Roman
emperor Valentinian as the 47th emperor of the Romans (due to his newly obtained status as
the senior Augustus at the time), yet this title is given in the Chronicle to the successor of the late
ruler, the Eastern Roman emperor Marcian, whose authoήty was not legitirnised by
Valentinian. Therefore, the latter ruler would come into the full Impeήal authoήty οη the
death of Theodosius ΙΙ.
With the follow-up to Prosper's chronicle corning to an end,Victor is apparently ηο longer
concerned much with the affairs in the West, except for Afήca,Victor's homeland, which is the
scene of the events descήbed in as many as 20 records of the Chronicle. 115This is quite a number
if we consider the fact that the Chronicle bήngs ηο information concerning Spain and Gaul,
except for one instance where the latter is mentioned as the place where Avitus proclaimed
himself emperor (s.a. 455). It should also be stressed that as many as 13 records among all those
connected with Mήca refer to secular affairs, successions to the throne of theVandal kingdom,
and upheavals duήng the Byzantine peήod.116
Ιη spite of the lack of a greater interest in political affairs of the West,Victor still considers
himself to be a Roman chronicler. The chronological axis along which he constructs his his
toήcal narrative are the years dated according to theRoman consular system, by which he turns
himself into a continuator of the Roman chronicles. The Fasti were essentially contemporary
chronicles recording the most important, in the authors' opinion, events that would have an
impact οη the development of the cuπent situation.117 And this is exactly what the second part
of Victor's Chronicle, dedicated to the emperor Justinian's reign, is like.
Victor is a Latin chronicler who represents the group of Afήcan authors wήting in Latin.
The only authors who are mentioned in his Chronicle by name are those who composed works
of ecclesiastical literature in Latin and were of Afήcan oήgin: Fulgentius ofRuspe (s.a. 497.5),
Feπandus of Carthage (s.a. 546.1), and Facundus of Herrniane (s.a. 550). Υet, he makes ηο
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mention of the fact that the third part of his Chronicle is based οη the Greek-language Church
Histσry by Theodore Lector.118 The latter example makes it quite clear thatVictor was familiar
with Greek, which is not unusual consideήng the fact that Afiica was a prefecture of the Eastern
Roman Empire whose authoήties consisted of Eastern-born officials and communicated in
Greek.119 Several years spent in exile, at some Greek-speaking monasteήes, must have con
tήbuted to improving his understanding of Greek, but not to an extent where Theodore
Lector's composition, wήtten in a quaint Attic literary style, would not make reading a fairly
difficult task. Should we compare it with the extant fi-agments of the Histσry and its Greek
Epitσme, we can see how often Victor failed to comprehend Theodore's text and how many
(sometimes quite cuήous) errors he may have made. His insecurity in this area is also evident in
the fact thatVictor would sometimes choose to give up οη translating or even transcήbing some
Greek topographical names and terms, which he would simply put down in Greek.120
Ifltaly is ever in the sights ofVictor's interest after the emperor Nepos's reign, the centre of
attention is pήmaήly the popes, and this is where we can see the essential element of Victor's
identity. He is a catholic Chήstian, as opposed to the ΑήaηVandals who are not even recognised
as Chήstians. We do not see, in the Chronicle, any Αήaη clergy and all the bishops mentioned
there are catholic. All the expressions used in connection with Aήanism are downήght negative:
Arrianus furor (s.a. 466), Arriana insania (s.a. 497.4), Arrianus error (s.a. 500), while s.a. 479.2 he
likens Huneήc's death in suffeήng to a similar agony of Aήus, whom he calls "the father" of the
Vandal king.121 Members of the clergy persecuted by Huneήc are regarded as martyrs.122
Ιη turn, in the course of the heated dispute over the Council of Chalcedon, the chronicler
remained loyal to its decrees, and he even aligned himself with the radical faction of the
Chalcedonian movement, who were firmly opposed to the condemnation of the so-called
Three Chapters. His Chalcedonian faith is thus the crucial factor with which Victor identifies
himself and in defence of his convictions he would even go so far as to resist the emperor's will.
At the same time, he shows much sympathy for the episcopate of the Western Roman Empire
as the bishops in the West were, generally speaking, more inclined to put up resistance to the
emperor Justinian's religious policy. The popes are depicted as significant fi gures and guardians
of orthodoxy,123 even though the position of PopeVigilius, who agreed to the condemnation
of the Three Chapters, was surely a shock to those who wished to uphold the religious authoήty
of the papacy (s.a. 542.1). Immediately thereafter, we have a record (s.a. 542.2) that makes a
definite association between the outbreak of an epidemic and the presumed betrayal of
Chalcedon by the pope.124 Α similar situation can be seen in s.a. 553.2, where Constantinople is
affiicted by a destructive earthquake and the disaster is perceived as God's response to the
determinations of the Second Council of Constantinople for the condemnation of the Three
Chapters. 125
Victor uses the possessive pronoun noster only in reference to the catholic community in
Afiica,126 with which he identifies himself. By doing so, he follows in the footsteps of Eusebius,
the creator of the Chήstian chronicle wήting for whom the unity of the history of the Chήstian
nation was the leitmσtiv. 127 Ιη the same way in his Chrσnicle,Victor records the history of a catholic
nation with which he shares the same sense of identity and in this particular manner he carήes οη
with the work commenced by Eusebius and Jerome. His Chronicle is a record of the history of a
community suffeήng for the truth, first persecuted by the ΑήaηVandal rulers, then torn by the
consequences of the Eutychian heresy and the opposition to the Council of Chalcedon. The
author identifies himself with the suffeήng Church emphasizing the significance of the un
compromising testimony of the suppressed clergy and castigating those who yielded to the
persecution or the prospect of some personal advantage made them change their convictions. Ιη
turn, the religious adversaήes are represented in extremely negative terms. The Afiican episcopate
152
is mentioned more than ten times, mostly in the context of demonstrating their heroic stance οη
the defence of the Three Chapters, in spite of the hard pressure fi-om the emperor, who insisted οη
supporting the denouncement of the Antiochene theologians.128 Victor refers to the Afi-ican
opponents of the condemnation of the Three Chapters as defenders of the faith.129 He also takes
note of the non-Afi-ican advocates of the Three Chapters, mainly representatives of the Latin
Church, 130 but also, the figures such as Zoilos of Alexandήa (s.a. 551.2).
Οη the other hand, Victor has nothing but words of censure for those who would condemn
the Three Chapters131 and is relentlessly cήtical of those who failed to withstand the persecution
and submitted to the emperor's will, 132 thus, embracing the radical attitude and the willingness
133
to suffer for the truth, the features characteristic of Afήcan Chήstianity. His attitude is just as
cήtical towards those who overtly questioned the decrees of Chalcedon, even though he puts it
across with a little more reserve, 134 while his account of the Three Chapters controversy (in
which he had himself taken part to some extent) is marked by his unrestrained emotions,
showing his true faith, a vivid allegiance to what he believes to be orthodox, and a willingness
to take the consequences of his resistance to the emperor's demands.
3 Christian, Roman, African

It should be stressed thatVictor ofTunnuna, as he is represented in his Chronicle, is, in the first place,
a catholic Chήstian acting in defence of the endangered orthodoxy as identified with the decrees
adopted by the Council of Chalcedon. At the same time, he is a member of the Roman Oikoumene
and a Roman par excellence whose native language is Latin. Ιη the chronicler's view, it is obvious that
"Chήstian" becomes identified with "Roman" as being a Roman means being a catholic. The
amalgamation of these two elements would also explain why such a major part of the Chronicle is
devoted to Eastern affairs: this is because the fates of the Church orthodoxy, endangered by the
enemies of the council, are decided in the Eastern half of the Roman Empire. Besides, the Eastern
Roman emperors considered themselves as protectors of the catholic Chήstians in northern Afi-ica
duήng the peήod of theVandal ascendancy there, οη behalf of whom they would ofi:en intercede
with the Vandal court.135 It is only the Western bishops' resistance to the emperor Justinian's
religious policy that would make Victor focus his attention οη the Church in the West, though
without much interest in the political affairs taking place there, with the exception of Afi-ica.
Being an 'Άfi-ican" is thus the third essential element ofVictor's identity. Of course, being
an 'Άfi-ican" means being a Roman as well as a believer in the Nicene Chήstianity, 'Όur" faith.
Afi:er all, Victor is not someone out of the ordinary as many Mήcan authors would express at
the time their sense of attachment to and identification with the homeland in their wήtings.136
With the loss of control over northern Mήca by the Empire, the Roman elites inVandal Afήca
had to reassert their Roman identity. Since aspects of the Latin culture and the lifestyles of the
Roman aήstocracy had been adopted by the Vandal elites relatively quickly, religion would
continue to be the pήmary characteήstic of those who wished to remain "Roman" outside the
Roman state structure.137 Paradoxically, it can be observed that the connection between Afήca
and the other Roman provinces, significantly weakening before the Vandal invasion, would
enter the phase of resurgence following their appearance since many Afήcan Romans would
long for the return of the Empire duήng the peήod of the Vandal supremacy.138
Conclusion
All four of the authors discussed above dedicate much attention to their native regions: John is
focused οη events in the Diocese of the Oήent; Theodore οη what takes place in
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Constantinople; Victor basically ignoήng events in the West, makes an exception for his native
province of Afiica, whereas Marcellinus, though writing from the vantage point of
Constantinople, provides a multitude of records οη his native Illyήa, thereby expressing his
preoccupation with the history of the Western Roman Empire. Α sirnilar sentiment for his
native region was expressed by Hydatius in his Chrσnicle and Orosius in his Historia adversus
paganos. 139
The present analysis has shown the increasingly greater role of the professed orthodox beliefs
in the authors' self-identification, while their approach to paganism is not very important in
view of the fact that traditional religions ceased to occupy a major role in the life of large
municipal centres in the early decades of the sixth century. The foundation of this conflict was
essentially the controversy over the adoption of the decrees of the Council of Chalcedon, 140
although all of the authors discussed here believed it was important to resist and act against
Aήanism, apparently still in existence in the Eastern provinces of the Roman Empire, especially
in Constantinople. This anti-Aήan attitude is definitely an aspect that is common to all these
authors.
Ιη this group of authors, John is the only one who shows ηο adherence to the decrees of
Chalcedon, while he makes it clear that he remains strongly attached to the theology of Cyήl of
Alexandήa. The other authors are loyal to the Chalcedonian orthodoxy and their allegiance to
the legacy of Chalcedon is clearly manifested in their works. Theodore and, in particular,
Marcellinus are also firm in their affiliation with the bishops of Rome. The religious question is
of great importance to the authors of the Church histoήes as well as to Marcellinus himself This
phenomenon is connected with the increasing mutual identification of the state and the
Church, the situation where the Church becomes an inherent part of the Empire. Ιη the
centuries to come, the adjective "ecclesiastical" would disappear fi-om the titles of chronicles
and histories composed in the Byzantine era.
Victor holds the Latin culture and the "Roman" language in great esteem and identifies
himself with them. Despite his command of Greek, he prefers to communicate in his native
language. Likewise, even though his Chronicle is based upon a Greek source, Victor feels more
comfortable in his use of Latin. Ιη both cases, we see the very early signs of the increasing
Hellenisation of the Empire, with Latin becorning a secondary language to Greek. The sub
sequent generations of wήters active in Constantinople would not choose to produce their
histoήographical works in Latin. We should also notice the fact that all the four authors express
their strong attachment to the Eastern Roman Empire. Emperors in Constantinople are the sole
legitimate Roman rulers, whose authoήty (even if the said authors do not subscήbe to their
religious policies) is never questioned.
We could sum up the present discussion with the conclusion that the Church histoήes in
question are examples of a successive stage of the Empire's transformation taking place in the
course of the fifth and sixth centuήes, the effect of which would be the formation of what is
known in the modern histoήography as the "Byzantine Empire."
Notes
1 Brian Croke, Count Marcellinus and His Chronicle (Oxford: OUP, 2001), 17.
2 For this question, see Aleksandra Pilarska, "Wokόl pojc:;cia poczucia tozsamosci: Przegl;ιd problemόw
i propozycja konceptualizacji," Nauka 2 (2016): 123-41, with a review of the meanings of the
concepts "identity" and "sense of identity," especially as a psychological category.
3 Ι have used the following editions of the works under consideration: John Diakrionomenos and
Theodore Lector: Rafal Kosiήski, Adήan Szopa and Kamilla Twardowska, Historie Kosciola Jana
Diakrinomenosa i Teodora Lektora (Krakόw: Histoήa Iagellonica, 2019) (numbers in square brackets
154
refer to the Hansen edition: Theodoros Anagnostes, Kirchengeschichte, eds. Gίinther Chήstian Hansen,
Zweite and durchgesehene Auflage [Berlin: De Gruyter, 2009]); Marcellinus Comes, Ίhe Chronicle rif
Marcellinus, ed. Βήaη Croke (Sydney: AABS, 1995); Victor of Tunnuna: Vittore da Tunnuna,
Chronica. Chiesa e impero nell'etά di Giustiniano, ed. Antonio Placanica (Firenze: Sismel - Edizioni del
Galluzzo, 1997).
4 ACO, ΙΙ, 3, 2, 566, 12-24.
5 Photius, Bibliotheca, cod. 41 (ed. Henry, 25-6).
6 Kosiήski, Szopa and Twardowska, Historie Kosciola, 47-50 (for the dates of the Epitome, 187-8).
7 Glanville Downey, Α History of Antioch in Syriafrom Seleucus to the Arab Conquest (Pήnceton: PUP,
1961), 512, η. 38 and Frederic Alpi, La route royale. Sevi!re d'Antioche et les Eglises d'Orient (512-518),
vol. 1, Texte (Beyrouth: lnstitut Franι;:ais du Proche-Oήent, 2009), 49.
8 Cf. Ernest Honigmann, Patristic Studies (Citta del Vaticano: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, 1953),
178, who dates the composition ofJohn's work to sometime between the years 512 and 518. Bernard
Pouderon, "Les fragments anonymes du Baroc. Gr. 142 et les notices consacrees a Jean
Diacήnomenos, Basile de Cilicie et l'anonyme d'Heraclee," REB 55 (1997): 185, suggests thatJohn
Diakήnomenos was a native of Syήa. Kosiήski, Szopa and Twardowska, Historie Kosciola, 56.
9 John Diakήnomenos, Epitome 1 (525). Details of Sylvan's episcopate (as bishop of the Himyarites)
remain an unclear issue; see Kosiήski, Szopa and Twardowska, Historie Kosciola, 51, η. 22. Cf. also
Pawel Janiszewski, "Jan Diakrinomenos i jego Historia koscielna," in Chrzescijanstwo u schylku
starozytnosci. Studia zrόdloznawcze, eds. Τ. Derda and Ε. Wipszycka (Warszawa: Wydawnictwo
Uniwersytetu Warszawskiego, 1997), 65-9.
10 Pouderon, "Les Fragments Anonymes," 176-7.
11 rif
Warren Treadgold, Ίhe Nature of the BibliothecaBibliotheca Photius (Washington, D.C.: DO, 1980),
69-70 andJaniszewski, "Jan Diakrinomenos," 71-4. Photius identifies the two authors οη the basis
of their negative attitudes to the Council of Chalcedon.
12 Geoffrey William Hugo Lampe, Α Greek Patristic Lexicon (Oxford: CP, 1961), 354.
13 Philippe Blaudeau holds the opinion that this expression may have been used by followers of the
Council of Chalcedon in relation to all the opponents, but he also points out that the non
Chalcedonians themselves were inclined to accept this terrn, especially as regards those of them who
refrained from making any public statement against the council, but questioned its definition; cf.
Philippe Blaudeau, "Memoire monophysite et besoins chalcedoniens: Quelques reflexions sur les
vestiges de l'Histoire ecclesiastique de Jean Diakήnomenos," Adamantius 7 (2001): 87-90.
14 rif
William Frend, The Rise of the Monophysite Movement:Chapters in the History the Church in the Fifth
and Sixth Century (Cambήdge: CUP, 1972), xiii and 144.
15 Blaudeau, "Memoire Monophysite," 90; cf. Fredeήc Alpi, La route royale. Sevi!re d'Antioche et les
Eglises d'Orient (512-518), vol. ΙΙ, Sources et documents (Beyrouth: lnstitut Franι;:ais du Proche-Oήent,
2009), 63-5.
16 Blaudeau, "Memoire Monophysite," 90.
17 Blaudeau, "Memoire Monophysite," 86-7.
18 De Sectis V, 3 (PG 86/1, col. 1229, 34-5).
19 John Diakήnomenos, Epitome 15 (539): 'Ιωάννης οtiτος ο ιστορών μακρούς άποτείνει του
Λαμπετίου καί των Λαμπετιανών έπαίνους, ώς δείκνυσθαι μηδέ ταύτης αύτόν ήλευθερώσθαι της
λύμης.
20 Blaudeau, "Memoire Monophysite," 93-4. Οη Lampetios and his followers, see esp. Κlaus Fitschen,
Messalianismus und Antimessalianismus: Ein Beispiel ostkirchlicher Ketzengeschichte (Gottingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1998), 273-81.
21 Photius, Bibliotheca, cod. 52 (ed. Henry, 39): δς καί πρώτος της εiρημένης αίρέσεως ίσχυσεν
έκκλέψαι τό της ίερωσύνης καί ύπελθείν άξίωμα.
22 Photius, Bibliotheca, cod. 52 (ed. Henry, 38). Cf. Rafal Kosiήski, Spόr mesalianski w pόznym antyku
(Poznaή: lnstytut Histoήi UAM, 2012), 27-8.
23 John of Antioch's letter to Rufus ofThessalonica-ACO, 1, 1, 3, 42, 4-7; John of Antioch's letter to
emperor Theodosius II-ACO, 1, 1, 5, 126, 28-31. Cf. Columba Stewart, "Working the Earth of
the Heart," in The Messalian Controversy in History, Texts, and Language to AD 431 (Oxford: CP,
1991), 49 and Fitschen, Messalianismus, 48-50.
24 Photius, Bibliotheca, cod. 52 (ed. Henry, 40).
25 Marc-Antoine Kugener, "Severe, patήarche d'Antioche, 512-518, prerniere partie, Vie de Sevi!re par
Zachaήe le Scholastique," in Patrologia Orientalis, vol. 2 (Paήs: Firrnin-Didot et C;°, 1907), 106. For
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Rafal Kosifιski
the problem of Severus's negative attitude to the Messalian movement and Lampetios himself, as
reflected in his homilies and wήtings, see Alpi, La Route Royale, vol. 1, 282-3.
26 Blaudeau, "Memoire Monophysite," 81.
27 For more οη this subject and a proposition of attήbuting the individual books to the successive
patήarchs of Antioch, see Kosiήski, Szopa and Twardowska, Historie Kosciola, 56-60.
28 John Diakrinomenos, Epitome 22 (546): "Ιβαν λέγει μεταβαλείν έν Σύροις τα Θεοδώρου του
Μοψουεστίας συγγράμματα.
29 Photius, Bibliotheca 41 (ed. Henry 1, 25): 'Έστι δέ οίίτος την φράσιν σαφής καί άνθηρός.
30 Souda, Θεόδωρος (θ 153, ed. Adler, pars ii, 696).
31 Codex Athous Vatopedi 286, fol. 210'. This is a scholion to Theodore Lector, Epitome 38 [373].
32 lntroduction to the Historia Tripartita (eds. Kosiήski, Szopa and Twardowska, 106-7).
33 Ιη the extant mateήal, he is often descήbed as "Constantinopolitan lector": lntroduction to the
Historia Tripartita: Θεοδώρου άναγνώστου Κωνσταντινουπόλεως; Souda, Θεόδωρος (θ 153, ed.
Adler, pars ii, 696): άπό άναγνωστων της μεγάλης έκκλησίας Κωνσταντινουπόλεως; Codex Athous
Vatopedi 286, fol. 210r (eds. Kosiήski, Szopa, Twardowska, 106): άναγνώστης της έν
Κωνσταντινουπόλει μεγάλης έκκλησίας; scholion to Evagrius, Church History ΠΙ 18 (eds. Kosiήski,
Szopa, Twardowska, 444): ό άναγνώστης της μεγάλης έκκλησίας Θεόδωρος. Lemmata to the
fragments of Theodore's work: F 2 [51]: Έκ της έκκλησιαστικης ίστορίας Θεοδώρου άναγνώστου
Κωνσταντινουπόλεως; F6b [11]: Θεοδώρου άναγνώστου Κωνσταντινουπόλεως; F7 [2]: Έκ της
έκκλησιαστικης ίστορίας Θεοδώρου άναγνώστου; F8 [35]: Θεοδώρου άναγνώστου έκ της
έκκλησιαστικης ίστορίας; F9: έκ της έκκλησιαστικης ίστορίας Θεοδώρου άναγνώστου. Also, in
the treatise 0n Schisms § 3 (eds. Kosiήski, Szopa, Twardowska, 462), the author records the phrase ως
φησι Θεόδωρος άναγνώστης, referήng to Theodore's Church History.
34 For the legal status of procurators in this peήod, see Mieczyslaw Zolnierczuk, "Rzymski procurator
umocowany (geneza i rodzaje w prawie klasycznym)," Annales Universitatis Mariae Curie-Sklodowska
22 (1975), sectio G: 163-191 and "Falsus procurator w rzymskim prawie justyniaήskim," Annales
Universitatis Mariae Curie-Sklodowska 32-33 (1985-1986), sectio G: 295-314.
35 Philippe Blaudeau, Alexandrie et Constantinople (451-491). De l'histoire ά lα gέo-ecclέsiologie (Roma:
Ecole Franς:aise de Rome, 2006), 549-50.
36 lntroduction to the Historia Tripartita: "Εκ τινος ψήφου...Theophanes, ΑΜ 6005 (ed. de Boor, 157,
19-23). Cf Pierre Nautin, "Theodore Lecteur et sa «Reunion de differentes histoire» de l'Eglise,"
REB 52 (1994): 236.
37 Theophanes ΑΜ 6008 (ed. de Boor, 161, 28-162, 8) records that Macedonius escaped from
Euchaϊta, the place of his exile, to Gangra before the incursion by the Sabirs, and was executed at the
latter locality οη the emperor Anastasius's orders; cf. Gίinther Chήstian Hansen, 'Έinleitung," in
Kirchengeschichte, ed. Theodoros Anagnostes, χ.
38 Theodore Lector, Epitome 515. Cf Hansen, 'Έinleitung," χ. For more οη the circumstances of
Theodore's stay at Gangra, see Kosiήski, Szopa and Twardowska, Historie Kosciola, 91-2 (η. 52 οη the
dating of Macedonius's death).
39 Theodore Lector, Wprowadzenie do Historii Tripartita: σης ίερας όμου καί τιμίας μοι κεφαλής. Cf
Nautin, 'Theodore Lecteur," 236.
40 Synod of Constantinople (536), Acclamationes populi et allocutiones episcoporum (Α. 518), in ACO iii, 74,
4-5: καί Θεοδότου του θεοφιλεστάτου έπισκόπου της Γαγγηνων. Cf. Kosiήski, Szopa and
Twardowska, Historie Kosciola, 92-3.
41 Theophanes, ΑΜ 6011 (ed. de Boor, 166, 2-3).
42 Nautin, 'Theodore Lecteur," 230-3.
43 Gangra, capital and metropolitan see of the province ofPaphlagonia, present-day <;:ankiή in Turkey.
Cf Κlaus Belke, Paphlagonia und Honorias (Wien: Verlag der όsterreichischen Akademie der
Wissenschaften, 1996), 196-9.
44 lntroduction to the Historia Tripartita (eds. Kosiήski, Szopa and Twardowska, 106): "Εκ τινος ψήφου
έπιξενουσθαί μοι λαχόντι κατά τό ύμέτερον Παφλαγόνων εθνος έν μητροπόλει τουνομα
Γάγγρι;ι, ...
45 Blaudeau, Alexandrie et Constantinople, 619.
46 Blaudeau's calculation has been revised in part by Geoffrey Greatrex, "Theodore le Lecteur et son
epitomateur anonyme du VIIe s," in L'historiographie tardo-antique et la transmission des savoirs, eds. Ρ.
Blaudeau and Ρ. Van Nuffelen (Berlin - Boston: De Gruyter, 2015), 126, who observes that in the
part concerning the reign of Anastasius, Constantinople is present in 36 out of 79 passages (46%).
156
47 Ιη Fr. 1 [52a], Theodore reports that the consul Aurelian built the Church of Saint Stephen at the
Aurelianae, while at the Epitome 49 [384], he notes that Stoudios erected the Church of Saint John
and the praepositus Gratisimos - the Church of Saint Κyήakos.
48 Blaudeau, Alexandrie et Constantinople, 635-41.
49 Fr 1 [52a]: τού της Άρείου θρησκείας; είς την Άρείου μετεβαπτίσατο λατρείαν; οί της Άρείου
συμμορίας.
50 Theodore Lector, Epitome 31 [366]: Genseric sends the liturgical vessels to the Aήans in
Constantinople; 90 [431]: Pope Felix informs the emperor Zeno and Acacius of mitigating the Arian
persecution in northern Afήca; 102 [448]: Aήans rejoice over the election of Anastasius to the
throne; the emperor's uncle, Κlearchos, is an Arian; 113 [462]: Theodoric the Great called "Arian";
114 [463]: an orthodox deacon who converted to Aήanism to ingratiate with the ruler executed by
Theodoήc; 115 [465]: story of the Arian believer Olympios; 122 [475]: a miracle occurήng during a
baptismal ceremony performed by the Arian bishop Deuteήos. Cf. Blaudeau, Alexandrie et
Constantinople, 63(}-1 and Greatrex, "Theodore le Lecteur," 128-9 and "Theodore Lector and the
Arians ofConstantinople," in Studies in Theodore Lector, eds. R. Kosiήski and Α. Szopa (forthcoming).
51 Theodore Lector, Epitome 102 [448] (Manicheans and Aήans rejoice together over the accession of
Anastasius to the throne; Anastasius's mother said to be Manichean); 107 [454] (the Manicheans
enjoy the freedom ofspeech in Constantinople), 131 [485] (emperor Anastasius called Manichean),
145 [507] (archdeacon John said to be Manichean); 146 [512] (shah-in-shah Kavadh honoured a
Chήstian bishop with the most prominent seat after his prayers vanquished the demons that guarded
the treasures ofthe Ζ undader fortress; previously, the king held the Jews and Manicheans in esteem).
Οη the presence of Manicheans in Theodore's History, see Rafal Kosiήski, "Was the Emperor
Anastasius' Mother a Manichaean," in Byzantina et Slavica. Studies in Honour rif
Prrifessor Maciej
Salamon, eds. Α. Izdebski, B.J. Koloczek, Μ. Stachura and S. Turlej (Krakόw: Historia Iagellonica,
2019), 215-26.
52 For this point, see an analysis by Blaudeau, Alexandrie et Constantinople, 620-50.
53 Blaudeau, Alexandrie et Constantinople, 628-9.
54 For instance, Theodore rejects the Henotikon (Epitome 83 [422], 133 [487]; Victor of Tunnuna,
Chronicon, s.a. 482, 485, 496) and holds a very critical view of Acacius's religious policy (Epitome 86
[426], 89-93 [430-434]; Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 486-487, 488.3, 489), cf. Blaudeau,
Alexandrie et Constantinople, 628-9, 634.
55 Blaudeau, Alexandrie et Constantinople, 644-5. Οη the monasticism ofConstantinople, see Theodore
Lector, Epitome 49 [384] (the founding ofmonasteήes by Stoudios and Gratisimos), 50 [385] (Daniel
the Stylite's arήval at Anaplus), 51[386] (Matrona and Bassianos), 52 [387] Gohn Vincomalos), 71-72
[407-408] (Daniel the Stylite's intervention in Constantinople), 93 [434] (monastery ofDion); 134
[488] (monastery of Dalmatos), 145 [507] (monastery of Stoudios).
56 Theodore Lector, Epitome 10 [345] (Pope Leo condemns Eutyches), 24 [359] (Marcian and Pulcheria
give full authoήty to Pope Leo), 26 [361] (Marcian, Anatolius, and the council present the pope with
doctrinal decrees), 90 [431] (the orthodox of the East address Pope Felix with a request for inter
vention; Felix sends his epistles to Zeno and Acacius), 93 [434] (Acacius deposed by Felix), 121 [474]
(Macedonius states that the decrees of Chalcedon can be condemned only by a council under the
pope's presidency), 136 [490] (the followers of Macedonius flee for Rome); Victor of Tunnuna,
Chronicon, s.a. 484 (Pope Felix sends letters to the East against Peter Mongos), s.a. 486 (Pope Felix
warns Acacius to prevent him from enteήng into communion with Peter Mongos), s.a. 487 (Pope
Felix condemns Acacius, Peter Mongos, and Peter the Fuller), s.a. 494 Gohn Talaia takes refuge in
Rome). Cf. Blaudeau, Alexandrie et Constantinople, 636-7, 646-8. Apart from the popes' role in the
Chήstological controversy, Theodore does not seem to take much interest in the affairs ofthe West;
cf. Hansen, 'Έinleitung," xviii.
57 Οη the positive depictions ofthe pro-Chalcedon patήarchs ofConstantinople, see Theodore Lector,
Epitome 43 [378], 45-8 [38(}-383], 56-7 [391-392], 6(}-1 [395-396]; Fr. 6a and 6b [11] (praise of
Gennadius), Epitome 99 [440], 101 [446]; Victor ofTunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 489, 491.1, 492.2 (mild
praise ofEuphemius), Epitome 110 [458], 111 [457], 119 [471], 121 [474], 123 [477], 125 [479],
132-8 [486-492], 142 [496], 148 [515]; Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 501 (praise of
Macedonius).
58 Οη the appraisal of the emperors, see Theodore Lector, Epitome 19-21 [354-356], 24-5 [359-360],
27-30 [362-365], 32 [367]; Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 450.2 (praise of the emperor
Marcian), Epitome 36-7 [371-372], 42 [377], 44 [379], 56 [391], 60 [395]; Victor of Tunnuna,
157
Rafal Kosifιski
Chronicon, s.a. 460, 468 (praise of Leo Ι), Epitome 524; Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 518.2
(praise of Justin); Epitome 63 [399], 65-72 [401-408], 77-8 [413-414]; Victor of Tunnuna,
Chronicon, s.a. 475.2 and 4 (censure ofBasiliscus), Epitome 55-6 [39(}-391],89 [430],92 [433],94
[435]; Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 480, 482, 485, 491.2 (censure of the emperor Zeno),
Epitome 101 [446], 103 [447], 108 [455], 132 [486], 136 [490], 148 [515], 150 [517]; Victor of
Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 491.1-2,492.2,494,496,499,501,504,506,509-10,513,517.2,518.1
(censure of the emperor Anastasius).Cf. Miroslaw Leszka,"Portayal of Anastasius Ι (491-518) in the
Church History by Theodore Lector. Α few Remarks," Res Gestae 5 (2017): 74-83.
59 Theodore Lector,Epitome 61 [396] (Gennadius's vision); Fr. 1 [52a],Victor ofTunnuna,Chronicon,
s.a. 498 and Epitome 115 [465] (divine punishment οη the Αήaη believer Olympios and Eutychian);
Epitome 122 [475] and Victor ofTunnuna,Chronicon, s.a. 500 (water disappears rniraculously duήng
an Αήaη baptism); Epitome 148 [515] (a miracle performed by Macedonius after his death); Epitome
149 [516] and Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 507 (possessions in Alexandήa), s.a. 518.1 (the
death of Anastasius caused by a lightning). Cf. Blaudeau,Alexandrie et Constantinople, 527-8 and η.
170 (with a list of relevant passages for the years 451-491) and 624.
60 Cf. PLRE ΙΙ, 71(}-1 (Marcellinus 9); Βήaη Croke, 'Ίntroduction," in The Chronicle of Marcellinus,
χιχ-χχ.
61 Cassiodorus, Institutiones, Ι.17.2 (ed. Mynors, 56, 21): Marcellinus Illyricianus. Cf. Croke,
'Ίntroduction," xx-xxi.
62 Cassiodorus, Institutiones, Ι.17.2 (ed. Mynors, 20-2): hunc subsecutus est suprascriptus Marcellinus
Illyricianus, qui ad huc patricii Iustiniani ferturegise cancellos ... Cf. Croke, 'Ίntroduction," χχ. Justinian
received his patrician title after the year 521; cf. PLRE ΙΙ,647 (Fl. Petrus Sabbatius Iustinianus 7).
63 Cassiodorus, Institutiones, Ι.17.1 (ed. Mynors,56,12-5): Marcellinus etiam, quattuor libros de temporum
qualitatibus et positionibus locorum pulcherrima proprietate conficiens, itineris sui tramitem laudabiliter percurrit.
64 Cassiodorus, Institutiones, Ι.25.1 (ed. Mynors,66,15-8): Marcellinus quoque, de quo iam dixi, pari cura
legendus est; qui Constantinopolitanam civitatem et urbem Hierosolimorum quattuor libellis minutissima ratione
descipsit.Cf. Croke, Count Marcellinus, 19.
65 Cf. Marcellinus Comes,s.a. 518.3.
66 Brian Croke, "Marcellinus οη Dara: Α Fragment of His Lost de temporum qualitatibus et positionibus
locorum," Phoenix 38 (1984): 77-88.
67 Croke,'Ίntroduction," xxi.
68 Croke,'Ίntroduction," xxii-xxv.
69 MarcellinusComes,s.a. 392.2: [Hieronymus] solus omnium Romanorum ... catholicis exhibuit lectoribus ...
70 Οη Marcellinus's sources,see Croke, 'Ίntroduction," xxii-xxv.
71 Marcellinus also refers to the Greek-language authors: Lukianus (s.a. 415.2); Atticus of
Constantinople (s.a. 416.2); Evagήus (s.a. 423.2); Theodoret of Cyπhus (s.a. 466); Gennadius of
Constantinople (s.a. 470); Theodulos ofCelesyήa (s.a. 478); John of Antioch (s.a. 486),as well as to
Syήac authors such as Isaac of Antioch (s.a. 459),but all of those mentions are drawn from Gennadius
of Marseilles's work.
72 See Croke,'Ίntroduction," xxv-xxvi.
73 MarcellinusComes,s.a. 381.1; 431.2; 433; 435.2; 436; 438.2; 439.2; 446.2; 447.1 and 3; 480.1; 495;
501.3; 509.1; 511.
74 Marcellinus Comes,s.a. 393; 487; 532.
75 Marcellinus Comes,s.a. 383.2; 386.1; 395.5; 429.1; 431.2; 433; 443.2; 452.1; 481.1; 494.1; 512.4;
523. Otherwise, Marcellinus refers to Constantinople (s.a. 381.1-2; 446.1; 384.1; 386.2; 391.1;
395.2.5; 398.3; 399.3; 401.1; 402.3; 403.3; 404.1; 409; 415.1; 416.2; 426; 428.1; 430.3; 437; 446.1;
465.1; 469; 473.2; 485; 488.1; 493.1; 498.2; 514.1; 516.3; 519.3; 525; 534) and, infrequently, to
Byzantium (s.a. 380; 445.2; 484.2; 516.3).
76 Marcellinus Comes,praifatio: ... Orientale tantum secutus imperium ...
77 MarcellinusComes,s.a. 419.3 (the revelation ofChήst οη the Mount ofOlives); s.a. 444.4 (Eudocia
in Jerusalem); s.a. 453.1 (the finding of John theBaptist's head); s.a. 516.2 (deposition and exile of
Patήarch Elias).
78 For instance,MarcellinusComes,s.a. 394.3 (refeπing to an earthquake not mentioned elsewhere) s.a.
427.1 (the Huns in Pannonia in the 420s); s.a. 452.2 (three huge rocks fall from the sky inThrace); s.a.
479.1 (with many details οη Sabinian); s.a. 499.1 (refeπing to a batde with theBulgaήans); s.a. 500.2
(Marcellinus refers to a donative given to the Illyήan soldiers); s.a. 505 (with the information,in part
unknown from elsewhere,about Sabinian the Younger fighting with the Goths).
158
79 Marcellinus Comes, s.a. 381, where the opponents of Aήanism gathered at the Council of
Constantinople are descήbed as sanctis centum quinguaginto patribus.
80 Marcellinus Comes, s.a. 511 (the acts of the sanctorum patrum apud Calchedonam).
81 Marcellinus Comes, s.a. 458 (orthodox bishops addressed in the emperor Leo's letter); s.a. 476.1
(Basiliscus acting against the orthodox faith); s.a. 494.1 (emperor Anastasius declaήng war against the
orthodox faithful, while Euphemius is opposed to this ruler pro orthodoxorum fide); s.a. 512.2-3
(opponents of the addition to the Tήshagion called 'Όrthodox" or "catholic"); s.a. 512.6 (the faithful
singing the Tήshagion hymn morem catholicum); s.a. 513 (the late Bishop Dorotheus of Ancyra resists
the emperor Anastasius propter unicam orthodoxorumfidem); 516.3 (the emperor is afraid of the llyriciani
catholici militis).
82 Marcellinus Comes, s.a. 451: Eutychetem nefandissimorum praesulem monachorum.
83 Marcellinus Comes, s.a. 512.2: deipassianorum.
84 E.g., Marcellinus Comes, s.a. 478, referήng to Theodulos of Celesyria (who held Nestoήan views).
85 Marcellinus Comes, s.a. 381.1: Damaso videlicet sedem beati Petri tenente; s.a. 451: Leone pontifice sedem
beati Petri regente. At the record s.a. 525, concerning the arήval of Pope John in Constantinople, the
dating according to the papal chronology is given as follows: anno Petri apostolorum pontificumque
praesulis quadringentensimo octogensimo quinto. In all other cases, Marcellinus enumerates the successive
popes according to the pattern Romanae ecclesiae . . . episcopus.
86 Marcellinus Comes, s.a. 381.1 (Damasus); s.a. 383.1 (Syήcius); s.a. 398.1 (Anastasius); s.a. 402.1
(lnnocent); s.a. 420.1 (Boniface); s.a. 423.1 (Celestine); s.a. 433.1 (Sixtus); s.a. 461.1 (Hilaήus); s.a.
482.1 (Felix); s.a. 498.1 (Anastasius); 500.1 (Symmachus); s.a. 515.1 (Hormisdas); s.a. 525 Gohn).
87 Marcellinus Comes, s.a. 525: miro honore susceptus est: dexter dextrum ecclesiae insedit solium dieruque
domini nostri resurrectionis plena voce Romanis precibus celebravit.
88 Marcellinus Comes, s.a. 381.1 (Nectaήus); 398.2 Gohn Chrysostom); 415.1 (Atticus; for chron
ological purposes); 426 (Sisinios); 428.1 and 430.3 (Nestorius); 494.1 and 495 (Euphemius); 511 and
514.1 (Macedonius); 511 (Timothy).
89 Marcellinus Comes, s.a. 381.1 (Timothy in the context of Constantinople); s.a. 430.3 (Cyήl in the
context of Constantinople); s.a. 449.2; s.a. 451; s.a. 466 (Dioscorus).
90 Cf. Croke, 'Ίntroduction," xxii.
91 Carmen Cardelle de Hartmann, 'Ίntroducciόn," in Victoris Tunnunesis Chronicon cum reliquiis ex
Consularibus Caesar augustanis et Iohannis Biclarensis Chronico, ed. Carmen Cardelle de Hartmann
(Turnhout: Brepols, 2001), 97*.
92 Silvie Elmoujahid, Kronika Iohanna z Bίclara. Vizigόtstί krάlόve α fίmstί cίsafove ocima pozdne antickeho
kronikάfe (Brno, 2016, diss.), 212.
93 Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon s.a. 555.2: Victor Tunnensis ecclesiae episcopus, huius auctor operis, post
custodias simulque et plagas, quas in insulis est Balearicis perpessus, necnon etiam in monasterio de Mandracum
primo, ac secundo exilio Aegimuritanae insule, tertio Alexandriam una cum Theodoro Cebarsusitanae ecclesiae
episcopo pro praefatorum trium capitulorum defensione exilio mittitur, et carceri castelli Diocletiani post prae
torianum carcerem truditur. Cardelle de Hartmann, 'Ίntroducciόn," 99*-100*. Cf. Antonio Placanica,
"Da Cartagine a Bisanzio: per la biografia di Vittore Tunnunense," Vetera Christianorum 26 (1989):
333 and Antonio Placanica, 'Ίntroduzione," in Vittore da Tunnuna, Chronica, xi-xii. Οη the events
in Afήca duήng the controversy of the Ίhree Chapters, see Yves Moderan, "L'Afήque reconquise et
les Trois Chapitres," in The Crisis of the Oikoumene. The Three Chapters and the Failed Questfor Unity in
the Sixth-Century Mediterranean, eds. C. Chazelle and C. Cubitt (Turnhout: Brepols, 2007), 39-82.
94 Placanica asserts that it took place after Pήmosus was elected Bishop of Carthage in late 551; cf.
Placanica, 'Ίntroduzione," xii. Moderan, "L'Afrique reconquise," 54-8, esp. η. 66 connects the
wave of suppression with the aftermath of the Second Council of Constantinople (553); it may have
already taken place in the same year. Ιη the French scholar's opinion, Victor's account would imply
that the year 555, at which he refers to his exile, would only point to the date of his deportation into
the East, which ensued sometime after the first impήsonment, not the beginning of the penal
sanctions against him.
95 Victor of Tunnuna, Chronica, s.a. 564-5: Musicus, Brumasius, Donatus et Chrysonius episcopi de Africa et
Victor ac Ίheodorus episcopi similiter ex Aegypto ad urbem regiam imperiali praecepto evocantur. Qui dum eidem
Iustiniano principi praesentes praesenti, et postea Eutychio regiae urbis episcopo altercanti novae superstitioni
resistunt, ab invicem segregati, per monasteria eiusdem urbis custodiae mittuntur. Cf. Placanica,
'Ίntroduzione," xii.
159
Rafal Kosifιski
96 Isidore ofSeville,De viris illustribus xxv (ed. Codoiιer Μeήηο,147,1-12): atque in eadem damnatione,
ut dicunt, permanens moritur.
97 Οη Justin II's policy οη the religious dissidents of northern Afήca, see Moderan, "L'Afήque re
conquise," 57-8. For more οη Justin's policies, see also Averil Cameron, "The Early Religious
Policies ofJustin ΙΙ," Studies in Church History 13 (1976): 51--67.
98 Placanica, 'Ίntroduzione," xii.
99 John ofBiclar, Chronikon 2 (ed. Cardelle de Hartmann,59,16-22).
100 Cardelle de Hartmann, 'Ίntroducciόn," 102*,107*-8*.
101 Victor ofTunnuna,Chronicon, s.a. 540.2,where it is noted that the heretic Theodosius lived until the
first consulship ofJustin ΙΙ,which would mean that the author must have known ofthe second one
(held in 568); s.a. 558-the five-year peήod of his pontificate is added for the first time to the note
οη Pope Pelagius; at the close ofs.a. 563/564.1,the 11-year peήod ofJohn's pontificate (ending in
574) is mentioned. The latter record is of particular significance here as it would suggest that the
author lived until the year of death of this pope.
102 Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, praescriptio: Hucusque Prosper, vir religiosus, ordinem praecedentium digessit
annorum: cui et nos ista subiecimus.
103 Placanica, 'Ίntroduzione," xiii-xiv. Cf. also Cardelle de Hartmann, 'Ίntroducciόn," 102*-6* and
rif
Andrew J. Cain,"Victor ofTunnuna," in The Encyclopedia the Medieval Chronicle (Leiden-Boston:
Brill,2010),1477.
104 Philippe Blaudeau, "Victor de Tunnuna utilisateur de l'histoire ecclesiastique de Theodore le
Lecteur: choix et objectifs," in Studies in Theodore Lector, eds. R. Kosiήski and Α. Szopa
(forthcoming).
105 Placanica, 'Ίntroduzione," xiv-xv.
106 Victor ofTunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 450: Romanorum XLVII Marcianus regnat annis V mensibus VI; s.a.
457.2: Romanorum XLVIII Leo regnat annis XVI; s.a. 474.3: Romanorum XLIX Zenon regnavit annis
XVII (Victor omits the episodic peήod of Leo II's reign); s.a. 491.2: Romanorum L Anastasius regnat
annis XXVII; s.a. 518.2: Romanorum LI Iustinus regnat ann. VIII mensibus VIIII; s.a. 527.2: Romanorum
LII Iustinianus regnat ann. XXXVIIII mensibus VII.
107 Victor ofTunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 566/567: Iustinus iunior [ ...] maxima imperii sumit sceptra; Epilogue:
in annum Iustini primum principium Romanorum, [...] in annum primum memorati principis Romanorum.
108 Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 449: Valentiniani Augusti, s.a. 454: Valentiniani Augusti, s.a. 455:
Valentinianus imperator Romae and Valentiniani Augustam.
109 Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 455: Maximus ex consule ac patricii sumit imperium diebus LXXVII;
s.a. 455: Avitus, virtotius simplicitatis, in Galliis imperium sumit; s.a. 458.1: Maiorianus Romae imperium
sumit; s.a. 463.2: Severus imperium nonis Iuliis sumit; s.a. 467.2: Anthemius Romae imperium sumpsit; s.a.
473.6: Olybrius Romam venit et imperium [ ...] sumit.
110 Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 473.7: Herculanus Orestis fillus arripiens imperium.
111 Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 473.7: et eius regnum Nepos assumit.
112 Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 554.4: Narses eunuchis ex praeposito patricius Tutilanem Gothorum
regem proelio apud Italiam mirabiliter superat ec perimit et omnes eius divitias tollit.
113 Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 534: Quodidem Belesarius [ ...] Africam capit.
114 Prosper 1207 (s.a. 395, ed. Mommsen, 464): Arcadius XLIIII cum iam regnasset ann. ΧΙΙ, regnat cum
fratre Honorio annis ΧΙΙΙ; 1235 (s.a. 408,ed. Mommsen,465): Honorius XLV cum Theodosio fratris filio
regnavit ann. XV; 1283 (s.a. 423,ed. Mommsen,470): Ίheodosius XLVI Romanum imperium tenet.
115 Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 464, 466, 479.1, 479.2, 497.4, 523.1, 523.2, 531, 533, 534.1,
534.2,541.2,543,545,546.2,550.1,554.2,555.1,556.1,557.1.
116 Cf. Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 464 (death of Genseήc, Huneήc becomes king of the
Vandals); s.a. 479.2 (the death ofHuneήc,Guntamund becomes king ofthe Vandals); s.a. 497.4 (the
death ofGuntamund,Trasamund becomes king ofthe Vandals); s.a. 523.1 (the death ofTrasamund,
queen Amalafήda's fate); s.a. 523.2 (Childeric becomes king of the Vandals); s.a. 531 (Childeήc
overthrown by Gelimer,who takes over power by crushing opposition among the Vandal elite); s.a.
533 (Gelimer's repήsals against the Vandal elite continued); s.a. 534.1 (the victoήous campaign of
Belisaήus against the Vandals); s.a. 534.2 (Belisaήus restores the Roman authoήty over Afήca); s.a.
541.2,543,545 (Stotzas's troops ήse in revolt); s.a. 546.2 (Guntaήc's rebellion).
117 Cf. ΚrzysztofHilman,Pikus w Κronice Aleksandryjskiej i u Malalasa. Narodziny mitu u schylku antyku
(Κrakόw: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Jagielloήskiego, 1919).
160
118 For more οη the relation between these two, see Kosiήski, Szopa andTwardowska, Historie Kosciola,
138-42.
119 Οη the dissemination of Greek in Roman Afήca following the subjection to the Eastern Roman
(Byzantine) rule, see Jonathan Conant, Staying Roman. Conquest and Identity in Africa and the
Mediterranean, 439-700 C ( ambήdge: CUP, 2012), 244-6; the author highlights the use of Greek in
Byzantine Afήca, especially at Carthage, but he also notes that it is difficult to say to what extent it
may have functioned beyond the metropolitan centre.
120 Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 513: Anastasii imperatoris praecepto Plato civitatis praefeάus et Marinus
pulpitum ealesiae sanάi Theodori ascendentes et hymno, quem Graeci Trisagion dicunt, ό σταυρωθείς δι' ήμας,
noviter apponentes (...) combustaque est civitas άπό της Χαλκής quod vocant (... )Cf also s.a. 523.3, where one
of the palaces of Constantinople is called quod delfacam Graeco vocabulo dicunt, but in some of the
manuscήpts this name is expressed in Greek as δελφακαμ, cf Vittore daTunnuna, Chronica, 36, apparatus.
121 Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 479.2: ut Arrius pater eius misere vitam finivit.
122 Victor ofTunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 479.1: [Hungeήcus] confessores ac martyresfacit.
123 Cf Victor ofTunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 484 (Pope Felix warns the monks and clergy of the East against
Peter Mongos); s.a. 486 (Pope Felix admonishes Patήarch Acacius); s.a. 487 (Pope Felix and the
synod of Italy condemn Acacius, Peter Mongos, and Peter the Fuller); s.a. 540.1 (Pope Agapitus
arήves in Constantinople, deposing Patήarch Anthimus and installing Menas in his place).
124 Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 542.2: Horum exoordia malorum generalis orbis terrarum mortalitas
sequitur, et inguinum percussione melior pars populorum voratur.
125 Victor ofTunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 553.2: His ita gestis, terrae motus urbem regiam afundamentis concutiens
aedificia plurima porticusque deiecit et, basilicis consistentibus, altaria paena cuncta prostravit. Just before this
s.a. record, Victor placed a descήption of theConstantinopolitan council and the ensuing persecution
of the radical Chalcedonians.
126 Victor ofTunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 479.2: [Guntamundus] nostros protinus de exilio revocavit; s.a. 497.5:
Εο tempore Fulgentius Ruspensis civitatis episcopus in nostro dogmate claruit.
127 Arnaldo Momigliano, "Pagan and Christian Historiography in the Fourth Century A.D.," in The
Conflict Between Paganism and Christianity in the Fourth Century, ed. Α. Momigliano (Oxford: CP,
1963), 90.
128 See Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 550.1 (the Afήcan episcopate condemns Pope Vigilius and
addresses letters to the emperor in defence of the Three Chapters); s.a. 550.2 (Facundus of Hermiane
wήtes 12 books in defence of the Three Chapters); s.a. 551.1 (the bishops Reparatus of Carthage,
Firmus of Tipasa, Primasius of Hadrumetum and Verecundus of Yunca are summoned to
Constantinople in the same matter); s.a. 552.1 (Reparatus exiled to Euchaϊta); s.a. 552.2 (the death of
Verecundus ofYunca); s.a. 553.1 (African hegumen Felix, among some others, is exiled to Tebaida
for his opposition to the condemnation of the Three Chapters); s.a. 556.1 (the opponents of Bishop
Pήmosus of Carthage [submissive to Justinian's demands] are arrested and banished); s.a. 556.2
(Victor and Theodore are in exile at Tabennesi in Egypt); s.a. 557.2 (hegumen Felix dies in exile at
Sinope); s.a. 563.1 (Reparatus dies in exile at Euchaϊta gloriosa confessione); s.a. 564/565 (Afήcan
bishops Musicus, Brumantius, Donatus, Chrysonius, Theodore, and Victor are summoned to
Constantinople in order to hold a dispute οη the Three Chapters with Patήarch Eutychius, but they
abide by their views; s.a. 566/567.2 (the death ofTheodore ofCabarsussi, defensor trium capitulorum).
For the problem of the exiled bishops, cf Stanislaw Adarniak, 'Άfrykaήscy biskupi-wygnaήcy w V i
VI wieku," in Veritas cum Caritate - Intellegentia cum Amore, eds. C. Rychlicki and 1. Werbiήski
(Toruή: Wydawnictwo UMK, 2011), 718-21. Apart from the Three Chapters controversy, the
African bishops are also mentioned in the context of the information οη the episcopal successions
(e.g., Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 535, 552.2) or the persecution by king Huneήc (Victor of
Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 479.1 and 534.1, referring to the figure of Bishop Letus of Nepta in
Byzacene, martyred in 484).
129 Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 554.2: defensoribus fidei.
130 Victor ofTunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 553.1 (Roman deacon Rusticus exiled toTebaida); s.a. 549.1 (the
episcopate of Illyήa addressing a letter to Justinian in defence of the Three Chapters); s.a. 554.1
(Frontinus of Salona exiled to Tebaida); s.a. 555.3 (following his arrival in Constantinople, Bishop
Dacius of Milan is astonished at the condernnation of the Three Chapters); s.a. 562.1 (Frontinus of
Salona exiled to Antioch, then to Ankyra).
131 Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 542.1 (as a consequence of AugustaTheodora's intήgues, Vigilius
is elected pope and pledges to denounce the Three Chapters); s.a. 544.1 (Vigilius condemns the Three
161
Rafal Kosifιski
Chapters); s.a. 553.1 (those who condernned the Three Chapters at the council will never be released
from anathema); 554.1 (those who consecrated Peter as Bishop ofSalona in place ofthe exiled bishop
Frontinus are called heretics (ab haereticis)); s.a. 554.2 (some of the Afήcan bishops become tainted
(polluuntur) by holding communion with Pήmosus, who betrayed the Church of Carthage (prae
varicatoris Carthaginis ecclesiae); s.a. 555.1 (the bishops from Numidia and Africa Proconsulaήs tainted
by remaining in communion with Pήmosus, the usurper (incubator) to the Church of Carthage); s.a.
556.1 (Pήmosus as usurper to the Church of Carthage); s.a. 557.1 (the Afήcan clergy condernn
Vigilius for his betrayal (postquam praevaricatus est)); s.a. 565/566.1 (after the emperor banished
Patήarch Eutychius ofConstantinople, who condernned the Three Chapters, John succeeded him, eius
dem erroris consimilem); s.a. 562.2 (Peter consecrated as Bishop of Salona is seen as usurper to this
Church). It is with satisfaction that Victor recounts the fate ofAugusta Theodora, whom he considers
as an instigator of the policy aimed at the theologians of Antioch and who canceris plaga corpore toto
perfusa, vitam prodigios ifιnivit (s.a. 549.2).
132 Some members of the clergy changed their religious views in anticipation of reward, which Victor
states with undisguised contempt; see Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 552.1 (pήmate Firmus of
Nurnidia, bribed by the emperor, denounces the Ίhree Chapters and suffers a terήble death after
wards); s.a. 552.2 (wishing to become the pήmate of Byzacene after Boethius's death, Pήmasius
condemns the Ίhree Chapters, suppressing their defenders; in consequence, he dies a tragic death); s.a.
558 (after initially defending the Three Chapters, Roman archdeacon Pelagius condernns them and is
elected pope by the traitors (α praevaricatoribus)); s.a. 559.1 (as a result ofthe persecution, some Illyήan
bishops agree to denounce the Ίhree Chapters, pristinam fidem in irritum deducentes).
133 Οη the radical and uncomprornising attitudes traditionally encountered in the northem Afii.can Church,
see Stanislaw Adarniak, Deo Laudes. Historia sporu donatystycznego (Warszawa: Sub Lupa, 2019).
134 Victor ofTunnuna, Chronicon, s.a. 451 (Dioscorus called haereticus); s.a. 457.3 (Alexandήa and E gypt
fall for the erroneous teachings of Dioscorus (eπore Dioscori)); s.a. 458.2 (Timothy Ailouros called
"usurper" (incubator) to the Church of Alexandήa); s.a. 460, 475.5, and 477.1 (Timothy Ailouros
called the "killer" (intefector) of Proterios); s.a. 480 (Peter Mongos consecrated by the heretics (ab
haereticis fuerat ordinatus)); s.a. 482 (emperor Zeno intoxicated by the cup full of Eutychian error
(Eutychiani poculo erroris sopitus) strays from the catholic faith); s.a. 485 (bishops of the East con
taminated (polluti) by holding communion with Acacius, Peter Mongos, and Peter the Fuller leave
the Council of Chalcedon); s.a. 488.3 (Peter the Fuller dies under anathema (sub damnatione)); s.a.
489 (Acacius dies under anathema); 490.1 (Peter Mongos, usurper (incubator) to the See ofAlexandήa
dies under anathema); s.a. 491 (the heresy (jede, immo peιjidia) ofthe emperor Anastasius); s.a. 496 (the
synod which deposed Patήarch Euphernius descήbed as a synod of heretics (haereticorum synodum));
s.a. 504, 509, 516 (Severus of Sozopolis called "the enemy of the synod" of Chalcedon (synodi
inimicum), "the enemy of the Apostolic faith" (apostolicae fidei inimicum), and "an ungodly man"
(impietates)); 540.1 (Anthernius called "a destroyer" (perversorem) ofthe Church ofConstantinople and
"the enemy of the synod" of Chalcedon (synodi inimicum).
135 Rafal Kosiήski, The Emperor Zeno: Religion and Politics (Cracow: Histoήa Iagellonica, 2010), 118-22.
136 Bartosz J. Koloczek, 'Άfryka w "Pochwalach Boga" Emiliusza Blosjusza Drakoncjusza," in
Florilegium. Studia ofiarowane profesorowi Aleksandrowi Krawczukowi z okazji dziewirι'dziesiqtej piqtej
rocznicy urodzin, eds. Ε. D;ιbrowa, Τ. Grabowski and Μ. Piegdoή (Krakόw: Historia Iagellonica,
2017), 401-17, which refers to Dracontius's strong attachment to his native land and the importance
of this aspect to his literary activity.
137 For this question, see in particular Conant, Staying Roman, 374-5, who argues that the Roman
identity in Late Antiquity was based chiefly upon high culture, religion, and politics.
138 See also Flavius Cresconius Coryppus, Joannida: Pochwala Justyna, eds. Bartosz and Koloczek
(Κrakόw: Histoήa Iagellonica, 2016), 145, η. 338, where that Coryppus would often emphasize the
multi-ethnic composition of the Byzantine Africa, where the inhabitants were united in their
common adherence to Roman culture and the loyalty to the Empire.
139 Robert Suski, Orozjusz ί jego zrόdla (Bialystok: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu w Bialymstoku, 2020).
Orosius was proud ofhis homeland, he identified himselfwith it and would often refer in his work to
Spain (Hispania), also to the pre-Roman peήod of Spain's history.
140 Cf. Geoffrey Greatrex, "Roman Identity in the Sixth Century," in Ethnicity and Culture in Late
Antiquity, eds. S. Mitchell and G. Greatrex (London: Duckworth and The Classical Press ofWales,
2000), 277-8, who points out that the Chalcedonian orthodoxy had become one of the essential
elements of Roman identity by the sixth century.
162
9
MANLY GOTHS, UNMANLY
ROMANS: IDEOLOGIES OF
GENDER ΙΝ OSTROGOTHIC
ITALY
Jonathan J. Arnold
Ιη his influential The Narrators of Barbarian History, Walter Goffart offered a relatively unique
interpretation of the Gothic history ofJordanes, a work conventionally known as the Getica. Το
paraphrase, Jordanes's Getica was a kind of romantic comedy, where feminine Goths
laughable Amazons who imitated manlike behaviour-were wooed by the manly Romans.
Despite ups and downs and numerous obstacles, in effect, the bulk of his naπative, the con
clusion of this love-story and thus the conclusion of the Getica offered its intended audiences a
happy ending: the marήage of an appropήately female and royal Goth, Matasuintha, with a
suitable Roman and impeήal consort, Germanus, and the birth of a son, Germanus Postumus.
Ιη Goffart's estimation, the event is symbolic of the longed-for (but delayed) union of both
peoples under a Roman aegis and a Roman future for Italy that includes obedient and sub
servient Goths. Ιη short, the story ends with a kind of reconciliation between Goths and
Romans, but with Romans clearly in the dominant and male position. 1
This interpretation has come under heavy scrutiny since its publication, and Goffart himself
has even shied away from it, going so far as to claim in his revised paperback edition that he
regretted the characteήzation.2 Υet, perhaps Goffart has been too hasty in rejecting his own
thesis, at least in part. As this chapter intends to demonstrate, a gendered reading of the Getica is
not entirely unreasonable, specifically Jordanes's purported understanding of contemporary
Goths as feminine (or perhaps feminised) and eastern Romans as masculine. Indeed, there were
long-standing precedents for this kind of analysis, as the attήbution of male and female char
acteήstics to the self and other was a regular trope in classical literature, little altered by the
Chήstianization of Roman society in Late Antiquity, despite important innovations. 3
Moreover, one need only look to Procopius of Caesarea, an eastern Roman contemporary of
Jordanes, for instructive parallels. Writing his own version of Gothic history fi-om within the
walls of Constantinople and offeήng a more substantial account of the Justinianic reconquest of
Italy, Procopius also employed the rhetoήc of gender, particularly ideas of Gothic and Roman
manliness and unmanliness, often for the sake of irony or to complicate notions of Roman and
non-Roman identity.4
Goffart's reading of the Getica, if accepted, would seem to suggest that Jordanes had similar
aims in mind as Procopius, even if a second-rate histoήan by comparison. 5 Nevertheless, there
DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-11 163

Jonathan ]. Arnold
is an added wrinkle. As Jordanes himself claims, the Getica is not an entirely oήginal work but
an abbreviation of the history of Cassiodorus, a loyal partisan of the Ostrogothic regime, who
celebrated his own history before the western senate for having "made a Gothic oήgin" into
"Roman history."6 Jordanes indicates that he read Cassiodorus's work οη two occasions,
condensing it from memory and adding his own introduction and conclusion, plus new ma
teήal throughout.7 Understandably, then, the extent to which the Getica is dependent οη
Cassiodorus is a matter of scholarly debate.8 And while this is not the focus of this chapter,
Cassiodorus's own remarks above should give one pause, for they would seem to imply a similar
and yet different purpose for his history than the one for which it was ultimately employed.
Indeed, and like Jordanes, Italo-Romans living under Ostrogothic rule did seek to find a place
for the Goths within the unfolding of Roman history.9 Υet, theirs was a narrative that placed
the Goths not in a feminine or subservient role but in a thoroughly masculine and dominant
one, an inversion of Goffart's reading of the Getica. The union of these two peoples was still
achieved in Italy and offered a happy ending, but it had occurred decades earlier and with the
Goths, not the Romans, as the undisputed victors, real men who embodied the Roman ideal of
virtus, literally "manliness" (from the Latin vir, meaning "man") and indicative of one's martial
valour and courage.10 According to this understanding, the western and eastern Roman empires
had degenerated duήng the fifth century, their leadership and militaήes becoming increasingly
weak and effeminate; 11 as a result, rank-and-file Romans and the lands they inhabited suffered
the consequences, transformed into damsels in distress in need of rescuing avengers, namely
Gothic heroes in shining armour.
Νο doubt Jordanes would have had to alter this Italo-Roman perspective when he
repurposed Cassiodorus's history for a different audience and context.12 However, de
termining the extent to which he did this is not the focus of this chapter. Instead, this study
is far more concerned with the Italian evidence in its own right and what it has to say about
contemporary mentalities in an Italy that was, despite its modern Ostrogothic moniker, still
thoroughly Roman in its self-identification.1 3 Hence, the focus here will be almost ex
clusively οη these Italo-Roman reconstructions, first the writings of the deacon Ennodius,
another known partisan of the Ostrogothic regime, and then the surviving works of
Cassiodorus. Jordanes, though interesting in his own right, will return at the very end of
this chapter, with some observations οη the relationship of his Getica to this Italian evidence
offered by way of conclusion.
Ennodius, Boethius, and Theoderic

Magnus Felix Ennodius (circa 473/4-521) was a well-connected and classically trained aris
tocrat, who composed the majority of his surviving works while serving as a deacon in Pavia
and later Milan duήng the early years of the Ostrogothic regime (circa 501-513).14 His wήtings
span a vaήety of genres and include epistles, poems, speeches, saints' lives, and a traditional
panegyήc. Noteworthy among these are the Life of Epiphanius (circa 501-504) and Panegyric to
King Theoderic (506), both indispensable sources and often cited in modern reconstructions, the
latter supplying the bulk of the Ennodian mateήal that follows.
Yet, Ennodius's shorter poems, which are typically understudied and underappreciated
in comparison to his longer opuscula, are also useful for the present purposes. One such
poem even draws attention to the intersection of gender and identity in Ostrogothic Italy,
and in revealing ways. The poem in question just happens to treat one of the most re
cognizably "Roman" elites of the time, Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius, a blue-
164
Manly Goths, Unmanly Romans
blooded and extremely well-connected senator from Rome, known throughout Italy and
beyond as a paragon of classical learning.15Ennodius himself eulogisedBoethius's erudition
οη more than one occasion and maintained friendly (if at times awkward) correspondence
with him.16 However, this particular epigram, entitled De Boetio spata cincto (Οη Boethius
armed with a sword) does not praise the learnedBoethius but lampoons him. It need not be
taken seriously, 17 but it draws a clear connection between military service and manliness
and the implications of both for contemporary civilian Romans. The epigram is as follows:
The nature of ήgid iron grows weak with you,

And even steel is dissolved in the custom of flowing water.
The ήght hand of unwarlike Boethius softens swords.
It was formerly a weapon, believe me, but now it is a distaff.
Shameless man, the javelin that you carry is turning into a thyrsus.
Standing firm in Venus, abandon the power of Mars.18
'Ήowever one interprets" these lines, the contrasts that are offered are instructive.Boethius
and, as will be seen, those like him are descήbed as soft, weak, and unwarlike. Although
associated with a deity that is quintessentially Roman (perhaps guaranteeing their Romanness),
they are aligned with the overtly feminine Venus, the goddess of love, sex, and beauty, rather
than the viήle war god Mars.Because of this, men likeBoethius are not really "men" at all and
thus unsuited to wield the weapons of war. Instead, they belong more properly to the domestic
and female sphere, exchanging the symbols of martial valour and manliness (virtus) for the
womanly distaff and thyrsus, the fertility wand of a female devotee ofBacchus (maenad) and a
sign of compromised masculinity in earlier poetry.19
Boethius, therefore, and other civilian Romans like him, including Ennodius himself,
could be imagined as occupying a more feminine role in society. They were lovers rather
than fighters, to the point, perhaps, of being just as laughable as the Gothic Amazons to be
discovered in the pages of Goffart's Jordanes. But what of the Goths? That they were
thought to fill the military void left by supposedly unmanly Romans is made abundantly
clear in another ofEnnodius's compositions, namely his Panegyric to King Theoderic, a work
that is characteristically epic in tone and replete with examples of Gothic virtus. True to
form, its celebrated and central figure, the Ostrogothic king Theoderic, is depicted as the
manliest of men, whose warlike qualities rescue an emasculated eastern and then western
Roman Empire. His Gothic followers, likewise, are spurred οη by his mighty deeds and
endeavour to follow in his footsteps.
The panegyήc begins with a eulogy of Theodeήc's physical sweat and toil, praising his
weapons for having guaranteed Roman peace, liberty, and literary culture, the exertions of
which can preserve his gloήous deeds forever.20 Hailing the now "good condition of the
Republic," Ennodius goes οη to claim that if he were to enumerate the wars of his king, he
21
would find as many wars as tήumphs. "None of your enemies have resisted you in combat,"
he explains. "Whoever opposed your will fought [to provide you] with trophies ... whoever
dared to take up arms, offered glory to your manly valour (virtus) ... whoever has seen you in
22 23
battle has been defeated." Ιη keeping with the rules of the genre, Ennodius soon provides a
seήes of extended examples, vignettes fi-om Theodeήc's past that justify these claims and, in
cidentally, speak to the current theme.
165
Jonathan ]. Arnold
The first of these episodes is the earliest chronologically and takes place in the east, serving as
a kind of preview to Theodeήc's later heroics in the west. Here, according to Ennodius, Greece
had educated a young Theoderic, then a hostage in Constantinople, "in the lap of civilitas,"
thereby secuήng "the protection of a [future] defender."24 Later, when rage in the forrn of a
coup against the ernperor Zeno "broke its chains and leapt forth for the testing of [Theodeήc's]
strength," the future ruler ofltaly decided to "repay in a tirne of difficulty the kindness [he] had
received in a tirne of peace."25 This sarne peace is cήticised by Ennodius for being too lengthy
and rendeήng Zeno's own subjects fearful and "gutless" in the face of the usurpation.26
"Reverence for the ernperor was irnrnediately dήven out of the city," Ennodius explains, until
27
Theodeήc, still without a "harvest of rnanly deeds," was irnpelled to act.
Although set battles are a therne of panegyήcs and appear in rnultiple instances in this
particular piece, Ennodius devotes little space to Theodeήc's actual carnpaign οη behalf of
Zeno, surnrning it up in a rnere sentence. "The usurper yielded at the very outset of your
encounter, after which sceptres were returned by you to a fugitive uncertain of his safety."28 Far
rnore space is dedicated to gloήfying Theodeήc's "defence of the diadern" and the eventual
reward that he was given in exchange, narnely the consulship of 484.29 Here another therne that
will be repeated ernerges, that of a brave and victoήous Goth, literally wrapped in Rornan
clothing, who defends and strengthens the Rornan Ernpire, its Rornans, and Rornanness
through his rnanly deeds. 'Ύοu accepted the [consular] fasces," Ennodius continues, "not so
that glory would corne to you fi:-orn the curule chair, but so that through you the toga of victory
would rneήt its worth."30 While forrner consuls had preserved the state through their solici
tude, "that year," Ennodius explains, "there was a consul who guarded the [eastern]
Republic ... through his reputation; with hirn placed in ornate [consular] robes, the weapons
taken up by its enernies trernbled."31
Reviewing in quick succession "the abundant crop" of Theodeήc's deeds, Ennodius next
turns to the Ostrogothic invasion ofltaly (488-93).32 The lengthy account, with its echoes of
Lucan and Virgil,33 serves as a centrepiece for the panegyήc, pitting an epically heroic and pius
Theodeήc against the cuπent ruler ofltaly, Odovacer, who is described as "the scourge of the
Rornan narne"34 and a wicked and fearful tyrant steeped in luxury, characteristics that speak to
his efferninacy and decadence.35 Italy, in this reconstruction, functions as a darnsel in distress,
abused by her "poor rnaster" and defended by a cowardly and soft arrny.36 "Already this rnighty
land," Ennodius begins, "had grown weak through the worthlessness of her governors and the
ruin of a lasting peace," a peace that is rerniniscent of the situation already encountered in the
east. This "undefiled peace" had only encouraged Odovacer's extravagance and greed, leading
to a "failure of public resources."37 "Among us ruled a ravager of the state," Ennodius larnents,
who was "enήched by the successes of his daily plundeήng." "Wasteful with his own pos
sessions" and dήving "pήvate assets into difficulties," Odovacer had not so rnuch taxed the land
as raped it, according to Ennodius's accusations.38
Meanwhile, Italy's traditional defenders were nowhere to be found. Instead, she faced
further victirnization by the soldiers who were supposedly sworn to protect her. The irnage of
abuse is particularly vivid in Ennodius's Life ι.if Epiphanius, where the Italian region ofLiguήa is
descήbed as a rnother depήved of her children and rendered baπen, bereaved, and steήle by her
would-be defenders.39 Α personified Italy even accosts her forrner charnpions, whose valour
(virtus) had offered her assistance, but deceitfully. "The noble rnatron," she clairns, "prornised
herself that you would be her defender. The virgin believed that it would displease you if she
were to lose her rnodesty through the treachery of a rapist."40 The arrny of Odovacer en
countered in Ennodius's panegyήc fares ηο better. Descήbed as "infirrn rnen," "a party apt to
flee," and an enerny prone to suπender, "a tactic with which they were all too farniliar," their
166
cowardice (the opposite of virtus) is a running theme throughout.41 So is Odovacer's, an un

worthy man who was "afraid of his armies" and "commanded his legions to come and go, but
cold with fear." 42
Ιη their first engagement at the Isonzo Bήdge, Odovacer's army can only "build a wall, not
defend it." 43 "The dashing about of men fleeing covered the plain," Ennodius relates, while
Theodeήc's troops "brought the battle to completion through their appearance, not their
toil," 44 a quick victory reminiscent of their earlier intervention οη behalf of Zeno. Meanwhile,
Odovacer prepared for a second engagement at Verona in a customaήly excessive and soft
fashion. 'Ήis mind wandeήng in its deceitfulness," his "feeble hands" (hands reminiscent of
Boethius's and perhaps better translated "limp wήsts") readied his soldiers "with noble pomp
[and] at great expense." 45 "Nothing [was] stronger than your opponents before this battle,"
Ennodius informs his master, "but when the trumpets sounded, nothing was weaker. Greatest
[was their] courage (virtus) when promising to fight; greatest their supply of words, as if a tongue
could suffice for the ήght hand." 46 Again, one is reminded of the unwarlike and unmanly
Boethius.
The contrast with Theodeήc is instructive. Having vividly descήbed Theoderic's heroics
while en route to Italy,47 Ennodius presents his king οη the eve of the Battle ofVerona as the
paragon of martial valour, placing words in his mouth that once again draw attention to gender
roles in important ways. "War trumpets," he begins,
"were already making a ruckus and your army was seeking you out. But while you
were enclosing your chest with iron weapons, while you were being fitted with
gήeves, and while your sword, the defender of liberty, was being fastened to your side,
feminine worry placed your saintly mother and venerable sister, who had come to you
out of love, in [a state of] suspense, [wavering] between hope and fear." 48
Much like Odovacer, these real women were overcome with anxiety, providing a fitting
contrast with the fearless warήor in their midst, who was busy adoming himself with the
trappings of manhood, weapons, and armour. Lest this be missed, Theodeήc himself makes it
abundantly clear in a speech addressed to his mother:
'Ύou know, mother famous to all nations for the glory of your offspήng, that you
begot a man at the happy time of my birth. This is the day when the battlefield can
make known the sex of your son: [this] must be done with weapons, lest the splendid
deeds of my forefathers should come to nothing because of me. ... My father stands
before my eyes, whom fortune never mocked in battle, who indeed acquired pros
perous outcomes for himself, since his strength demanded [it].49
The point could not be more obvious: real men, Goths like Theodeήc and his ancestors, are
strong, brave, and fight gloήously with weapons. True to his words, Theodeήc soon mounts his
warhorse and dashes into battle, leaving in his wake "enormous slaughter" and a "throng of
slain men," who are denigrated by Ennodius as the "scum of the earth." 50
Your Heroes
The death ofOdovacer, who had stretched out "his defenceless ήght hand" (Boethius again!),
leads Ennodius to celebrate the dawning of a golden age. 51 Α geήatήc Rome is beckoned to
come out of hiding, ignorant of manly contests and "trembling in her slipping footsteps." 52 The
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Jonathan ]. Arnold
elderly damsel, in effect, has been rescued and is soon honoured and protected by her new and
benevolent champion. "Unforeseen beauty," according to Ennodius, emerges "fi:-om the ashes
of cities [and] palatine roofs glisten everywhere under an abundance of civilitas." 53 Rome, now
descήbed as "that mother of cities," becomes young again, and the Senate's crown is "wrapped
with innumerable flowers." 54 Beauty, motherhood, abundance, flowers: these are appropήate
gifts for a respectable female consort. Meanwhile, the Goths themselves, descήbed as "your
heroes" by Ennodius, remain thoroughly masculine and warlike, but are also hailed for pre
serving Roman peace and the sweetness, note the word choice, sweetness of civilitas.55
"What mouth is worthy to celebrate the fact that you watch over the instruments of
Getic strength, while ensuήng that our peace is not disturbed, and cause fierce youths
to rehearse for war amidst the blessings of tranquillity? Υour victoήous troops endure
still in the firmness of their might .... Their muscles are hardened [and] they ac
complish the deeds of brave men."56
Strength and might, fierceness and firmness (with hard muscles, ηο less!): these are the char
acteήstics of Theoderic's Goths, whose martial deeds render them brave men and whose
training for war allows civilian Romans to enjoy the blessings of a sweet, sofi:, and peaceful life.
Soon, moreover, their training was put to the test. "Behold," Ennodius explains, "we return
to the lines of battle after [descήbing this] firm peace." Sirmium, 'Όnce the boundary ofltaly,"
had fallen to the Gepids "through the negligence of our [former] rulers."57 Its loss, Ennodius
continues, "vexed the mind of our princeps" and dishonoured Theodeήc, despite the fact that he
was not responsible for it.58 "Υour pain was immeasurable, since the one withholding
[Sirmium] had not returned it at the beginning of your reign. Since the empire grew not, you
reckoned it was being diminished."59
Victimised yet again, Italy required an avenger and found him in the noble Goth Pitzia, who
was dispatched with an army to Pannonia in 504.60 The act, however, displeased the eastern
empire, which sent its own general along with an army of Bulgars to thwart the Goths.61
Ennodius had disparaged the eastern Romans earlier in his panegyήc for their gutlessness; in his
Life ι.if Epiphanius, he even mocked one emperor sent from the east as a "little Greek," an insult
known for its implications of effeminacy.62 However, their Bulgar allies were exceedingly
manly and worthy adversaries for the Goths. They too were "unconquered youths ... men like
their own ... [actually] able to resist them among the human race... [and] never uncertain of
their tήumphs."63 Predictably, then, another epic battle ensued, this time with Pitzia assuming
the role of Theodeήc. Ιη an earlier, bloody contest set during the long march to Italy, the
Gothic monarch had "strengthened those standing near with encouraging words," offeήng a
speech οη par with the one later delivered to his mother.64 Now Pitzia followed suit, "rousing
the burning fury of [his] youths with the more fiery passion of his words."65
"Remember, comrades, at whose command you have come to this place. Let ηο one
believe that the eyes of our king are absent: we must fight for the sake of his fame. If a
shower of spears should cover up the sky, whoever has hurled his weapon more
courageously will not lie hidden. Plunge your chests into their swords, so that ... your
expectation of victory will be obvious. ... Or perhaps they refuse to judge our people
οη the basis of [its] princeps? They should realise that whatever we achieve comes from
him; nor would it be right for them to attήbute to just one person what our ruler has
transmitted to an [entire] race." 66
168
All Goths, therefore, were the manliest of men like Theodeήc, and the speech, according to
Ennodius, was effective. Forthwith, he explains, the "people of Mars" (a contrast with the
Venus-loving Boethius) "enmeshed themselves headlong [in the fray]," with thoughts of
Theodeήc spurήng them οη. 67 Soon, the tide turned, causing the hurniliated Bulgars to flee for
their lives, "hurrying amid great lamentation." Their eastern Roman commander, likewise, was
rendered a "defenceless man," much like Odovacer, and retreated "most disgracefully" (i.e., in
a cowardly and thus unmanly fashion).68 "Roman powers," Ennodius concludes, "returned to
their former limits," while Pitiza's tήumph rendered him "worthy of celebration forever." 69
Cassiodorus
So much for Ennodius, whose wήtings are sufficiendy vivid to suggest the incompatibility of
"femininity" with Gothicness, at least in his works. But what of Cassiodorus, an author with
whomJordanes was certainly farniliar? Like Ennodius, his works belong to a vaήety of genres
and are sirnilarly ήch. Υet, his wήtings are arguably a better reflection of the official position of
the Ostrogothic regime, which he served loyally and for which he functioned as a mouth
piece.70Moreover, Cassiodorus's career spanned multiple decades, extending far beyond the era
of Theodeήc celebrated by Ennodius and, quite significandy, even beyond the chronological
scope (insofar as it can be reconstructed) of the lost history thatJordanes later read.71 Indeed,
and as will be seen, this breadth of coverage adds wrinkles and nuance to the gender-laden
rhetoric encountered above; and while certainly complicating the image presented by
Ennodius, it nevertheless harmonises with it in important and fundamental ways.
Το begin, it is clear that Cassiodorus also celebrated Theodeήc and theGoths in general for
their manly valour (virtus), which was harnessed for the good of Rome. Ιη his Chronicle, for
instance, which can be imagined as a kind of prototype for his history, Theodeήc is introduced
as 'Όur most fortunate and courageous lord" and contrasted with an Odovacer who is deceitful,
prone to flight, and repeatedly defeated.72 Ιη the entry for 504, likewise, Cassiodorus credits
victory duήng the Sirmian campaign to the "valour of our lord king Theodeήc," through
which, it is stated concisely, "Italy recovered Sirmium."73 Ιη a sirnilar but more verbose vein, a
fragmentary panegyήc of Cassiodorus delivered before the senate eulogises Theodeήc's re
storation of lands in Gaul, hailing the ruler of Italy as an "untiήng earner of tήumphs," who
"renders provinces tranquil" and "bήdles proud barbarians with his imperium." "Bravo,"
Cassiodorus exclaims. "Through your fighting, the tired limbs of the Republic are revived and
ancient blessedness is restored to our era."74
The image of a largely passive Roman society rescued and now flouήshing through the
physical exertions of victoήous Goths cannot be missed. Moreover, this is an ideology that is
frequendy encountered in the career-spanning documents collected in Cassiodorus's Variae.
Here, virtus literally defines the Goths, who are refeπed to οη multiple occasions as sources of
protection and defence, as the new Roman army, whose efforts preserve civilitas and the
common good.75 Οη the eve of their invasion ofGaul, one letter penned in Theodeήc's name
reminds all the Goths of their "laudable bravery," descent from a "bellicose stock," and desire
for "the glory of manly valour."76 Demonstrate the "training ofMars," the missive enjoins, "so
that you can prove that the virtus of your ancestors lies within you."77 Elsewhere, Theoderic's
Goths are descήbed as having the "wisdom of Romans" and "but the courage of barbaήans."78
'Ίmitate our Goths," the inhabitants of Pannonia are instructed, "who know how to conduct
wars abroad but live modesdy at home."79 Individual Goths receive similar eulogies in the
collection, praised in the provinces and in the Roman senate for being "famous in war" but
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Jonathan ]. Arnold
"more extraordinary in civilitas" or for having "both restored the glory of civilitas and acquired
the honours of war."80
The image is not universal, of course. Some Goths are hailed for their more civilian and thus
Roman characteήstic in the Variae. This is especially the case for members of the Amal dynasty
and, in particular, its women, who are said to be gloήous, not only for their lineage and the
diplomatic marήages for which they were fi:-equently employed but also for their learning,
refined behaviour, and "ferninine dignity." 81 Likewise, someRomans are praised for having a
military (and thus masculine) role, as waπiors unafraid to "attack unyielding barbaήans" and
"thus assist[ing] the victory of the Goths." 82 Still, and as will be seen, theRoman aπny of the
fifth century tends to be remembered as weak and ineffective, while contemporary Roman
society remains characteristically feminine. Much as inEnnodius's panegyήc, theirs is a world of
"sweet tranquillity," afforded by their Gothic "consorts," a teπn that implies partnership and
83
even marήage. Assuming the role of a spouse, theRomans are made "a populous people in
peace," while their Gothic husbands "defend the entireRepublic in wars." 84Roman fertility is
also highlighted in a letter attήbuted to Athalaήc, which infoπns the population ofRome that
its "peaceful habitation allows [it] to multiply, while those men [i.e., Goths] endure the labours
of war for the common good." 85 So do the words placed in the mouth of a personifiedRome,
wήtten in the name of the senate and directed to Justinian at the very beginning of the
Gothic War:
"Love my defenders, most pious pήnceps ... Behold! Ι have doubled [the number of]
my nurslings. Behold! Ι glisten decorated with citizens ... My senate grows in honours,
continually increased in its resources .... Ι delight in the Amal nourished at my breast
[i.e., Κing Theodahad], a strong man rendered peaceful through my frequent asso
ciation, dear to the Romans for his prudence, feared by barbaήans for his manly
valour." 86
Tuluin
Cassiodorus's works abound in references like these, rendeήng them nearly as fruitful for the
present discussion as the Romans encountered above. Υet, some specific case studies, ήch
vignettes οη the model of Ennodius's panegyήc, are waπanted.Two such examples follow,
both deήved fi:-om the reign of Athalaric and at least one, if not both, dating fi:-om the peήod
afi:er Cassiodorus had published his history.
The first takes as its subject the Gothic general Tuluin, an analogue of sorts to Ennodius's
Pitzia.87Two letters dating to late 526 and penned in Athalaήc's name announce his elevation
to the position of patricius praesentalis (i.e., patricius et magister militum praesentalis), each providing
a biography of sorts for a Goth descήbed as "always dedicated to aπns," "a brave man," and a
"disciple" ofTheodeήc.88The first, directed toTuluin himself, engages in a direct compaήson
between this newly appointed patήcian andTheodeήc, who had once held this office.89 "This
is an honor that is both suitable for arms and resplendent in peace," the letter explains, re
minding Tuluin that "wealthy Greece herself, which owed much to our most gloήous lord
grandfather, obligingly paid him with this [office]." 90 Such words are rerniniscent ofEnnodius's
account ofTheodeήc's eastern career, as is the description ofTheodeήc's "tireless dedication"
οη behalf of the east that follows, complete with a Gothic "hero ... unconquered in battles" and
symbolically wrapped in Roman clothing.91 "The cloth of the chlamys covered his [i.e.
Theodeήc's] strong shoulders," Cassiodorus writes, and "the Roman shoe painted his ankles
170
red." 'Ί know not how," he continues, but "civilitas was loved more in this man, who was
understood to be warlike."92
Meanwhile, Tuluin himself, who had grown up at Theodeήc's court, proved himself a
worthy student of "his teacher's glory," learning from him "the certainties of peace and the
uncertainties of war."93 Ιη the second letter, directed to the senate, Tuluin's own "glimmeήng
weapons" are praised for increasing the "enjoyment of peace," while the toga, described as
"effeminate," is hailed for being "now ready for batde" owing to his efforts.94 Not surpήsingly,
generalizations like these are followed by concrete examples. Tuluin, the letter explains, had
"hardened into the robust boldness of his people" just in time for the Sirmian campaign, where
95
he "demonstrated οη the open battlefield whatever he had learned fi:-om that man ofMars," a
reference to Theodeήc. 'Όur cradles," an interesting word choice οη Cassiodorus's part, "sends
forth waπiors like these ... Nouήshed in peaceful service, a predisposition for virtus furnished
96
[him with] whatever he had not learned in training." Having triumphed against Huns and
Bulgars, Tuluin returned to Italy a "veteran" and was rewarded for his "vigour" and "manly
valour."97 Shortly thereafi:er he participated in Theodeήc's invasion of Gaul, "incurήng dangers
most readily" and captuήng Arles's pontoon bήdge in a particularly epic battle.98 It was "the
mightiest of contests between Goths and Franks at the time," the senators were informed, and
"the boldness of our candidate was there amid uncertain circumstances, where he fought against
throngs of enemies with so much stήfe that he caused the enemy to retreat."99 Tuluin had been
wounded in the struggle. But his wounds offered "signs of his deeds" and were eulogised as
"the very language of virtus ... adorning one for the rest of his life."100 Α wound "leaves ηο
doubt," Cassiodorus concludes, "about proven bravery." 101
Goths like Tuluin, then, confi:-onted danger courageously and ήsked their lives οη behalf of
the state. Pitzia had restored Roman powers to their former limit; now Tuluin "defended
Gaul" and was hailed for acquiήng "a province for the Roman Republic."102 It was proper, the
senate was told, for the "race of Romulus" to have "men of Mars" as colleagues. "We have
exalted this man, exercised in wars; now favour our candidate and make the senate accessible to
our men," that is, Goths. 103
Amalasuintha
While Tuluin provides yet another example of a manly Goth, Amalasuintha, the daughter of
Theodeήc and regent duήng the minoήty reign of her son, Athalaric, offers the cuήous case of
a manly Goth who just happens to be a woman. This is all the more intήguing, since, as
discussed earlier, Gothic women are usually associated with marήage alliances and more
feminine (and thus civilian) characteήstics in the Variae. And, indeed, Cassiodorus's depiction of
Amalasuintha, found in a short panegyric penned in his own name in 533, does not neglect such
feminine qualities, drawing especial attention to her learning, eloquence in Greek, Latin, and
Gothic, and her "pήceless familiaήty with literature."104 True to his genre, he even provides a
parallel fi:-om the Roman past that serves to higWight the subject of female rulership, choosing
to compare Amalasuintha with Galla Placidia, the daughter of the emperor Theodosius and
regent for her own young son, V alentinian 111. Given this, it should come as ηο surpήse that
comments about gender and gender roles are made in this panegyήc. Nevertheless, Cassiodorus
faults Placidia for her feminine qualities, which ultimately harmed the empire, and goes οη to
praise Amalasuintha, not as some laughable Amazon, but as a ruler who struck the perfect
balance between (Roman) femininity and (Gothic) masculinity, and for the benefit of all. 105
Beginning with Placidia, she is introduced as a proper impeήal matron, "gloήous in her
lineage" and "devoted to her purple-clad son." 106 Yet, Cassiodorus also disparages her in an
171
Jonathan ]. Arnold
allusion to her sex and a play οη her name, meaning peaceful/placid. "She adrninistered the
Empire gently," he accuses, and "sofi:ened its army with too much peace," thus echoing the
concerns raised earlier by Ennodius.107 Worse, she had "indecently weakened" the empire,
acquiήng a "maπiage for the one ruling" [i.e., her son] through the "loss oflllyήcum" and "a
lamentable division for the provinces."108 Placidia's times thus irnitated her name and her sex:
they were gentle, peaceful, soft, and weak, and typified by motherhood and maπiage.
"Protected by his mother," Cassiodorus concludes with some irony, Valentinian "suffered what
one forsaken [by a mother] could have hardly endured."109 Placidia, in short, had been a
negligent ruler and, it seems, an equally negligent mother.
The contrast with Amalasuintha is revealing. "But under this rnistress," Cassiodorus declares,
'Όur army teπoήses foreigners: balanced by her provident disposition, it is neither impaired by
constant wars nor sofi:ened again by long peace." 110 Α celebratory and detailed list of fήghtened
and defeated enernies follows, including arrogant Franks, submissive Burgundians, and humi
liated eastern Romans, whose defeat "made the Danube Roman."111 "Bravo, battle-ready
Goths," Cassiodorus exclaims, before asking both Goths and Romans to rejoice together over
their "fortunate rnistress," a "marvel worthy" of wonder.112 "She has fulfilled what both sexes
consider excellent: for she has begotten for us a gloήous king and also defended our very
extensive empire with the strength of her rnind."113
The blessings of Amalasuintha's reign, a continuation of the Theodeήcan golden age, fol
lows, leading Cassiodorus to ponder yet another histoήcal example that speaks to issues of
gender.114 "The rules of panegyήc," he claims, "demand that Ι make known the pomp of
ancient Augustae in a compaήson with our modern one." "But how," he continues, "can
ferninine examples suffice for one to whom the universal praise of men subrnits?"115 Ιη the end,
Cassiodorus's solution was to compare Amalasuintha to her male Gothic ancestors, from Amal
to her father Theodeήc. "Surely," he concludes, "they would recognise one by one their own
qualities in her and happily confess that they have been surpassed."116
Conclusions and Jordanes

Ennodius and Cassiodorus would seem to have shared a similar understanding of recent Roman
history and the role of the Goths within it; nor were they alone, as other sources from con
temporary Italy make clear.117 By the fifth century, the Empire's male component, its army,
had grown weak and effeminate, placing its female counterpart, civilian Romans, in danger.
Theodeήc and his Goths, as the manliest of men, had then come to the rescue, becorning the
new Roman army, and allowing the Empire to flouήsh once more. Doubtless, a story like this
underpinned Cassiodorus's lost history, with a happy ending and Theoderic playing a star
ήng role.
But what of Jordanes? One need not accept all of Goffart's conclusions to realise that his
Getica had to depart from this Italian model in drastic ways. And, indeed, it does. Theodeήc, for
instance, is not the star of this work and, rather surpήsingly, nearly as much space is dedicated to
his maπiage alliances as to his manly deeds.118 Moreover, Amalasuintha is decidedly feminine,
never a ruler in her own ήght but defined as a daughter, wife, widow, and mother, whose son's
peaceful reign is reminiscent of the era of Placidia.119 The Franks even challenge her supremacy
in Gaul, something they fail to do in Cassiodorus's Variae, while the Goths, she fears, "despise
her for the weakness of her sex," offering yet another contrast.120 According to Jordanes,
Amalasuintha ends her life as an impήsoned damsel in distress, whose unjust murder impels
Justinian, rather like Ennodius's Theodeήc, to seek vengeance.121 Finally, Jordanes's account of
the Gothic war begins with two instances of cowardly Goths suπendeήng without a fight;
172
continues with Goths being "completely annihilated by the Roman army"; and concludes with
Κing Witigis, "raging like a lion" but "with his courage rendered useless," fleeing to Ravenna,
122
"where he voluntaήly suπendered without delay to the victoήous [Roman] side."
Cassiodorus's history cannot have been the source for this, given its earlier publication date. But
this is far fi-om the "king of inborn valour" encountered in his Variae, a proven war hero in his
own ήght, chosen "in the midst of battle-ready swords" by "the Getic people of Mars." 123
It would seem, then, that Jordanes inverted the rhetoήc that was common in Ostrogothic
Italy. The Romans, or rather the eastern Romans, were the true embodiments of manly valour,
while the Goths, once manly, were weaker and inclining towards the feminine. Lest his readers
miss this point, Jordanes even says something to this effect in his concluding paragraph:
"This praiseworthy people [i.e., the Goths] yielded to a more praiseworthy princeps
[i.e., Justinian] and suπendered to a more courageous general. ... Let ηο one believe
that Ι have added anything out of favouήtism towards the above-mentioned people,
other than what Ι have read or learned. For Ι have neither included everything that is
wήtten or told about them nor am Ι setting [this] forth so much for their praise as for
the praise of the one that conquered them." 124
Although some have read these final lines as a banal and empty (but also necessary) nod to the
125
Byzantine emperor, it might be best to take them at face value.
Notes
1 See Walter Goffart, The Narrators cif Barbarίan History (A.D. 550-800):Jordanes, Gregory ofTours, Bede,
and Paul the Deacon (Pήnceton: PUP, 1988), 68-84.
2 See Walter Goffart, The Narrators cif Barbarίan History (A.D. 550-800):Jordanes, Gregory ofTours, Bede,
and Paul the Deacon, pb. ed. (Notre Dame: NDUP, 2005), xvii-xix.
3 Οη the Classical notion of"soft" and"feminine" peoples, see Benjamin Isaac, The Invention of Racism
in Classical Antiquity (Pήnceton: PUP, 2004), chp. 1, esp.; also, Stewart, this volume. For the shift in
Late Antiquity, Mathew Kuefler, The Manly Eunuch: Masculinity, Gender Ambiguity, and Christian
Ideology in Late Antiquity (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001); for its continuation, Michael
Stewart, The Soldier's Life: Martial Virtues and Manly Romanitas in the Early Byzantine Empire (Leeds:
Κismet Press, 2016).
4 See especially Stewart, Soldier's Life, 247-313; id., "Contests of Andreia in Procopius's Gothic Wars,"
Parekbolai 4 (2014); id., The Dangers of the Soft Life: Manly and Unmanly Romans in "Procopius's
Gothic War," JLA 10.2 (2017); and id., this volume.
5 Jordanes's originality, quality as a histoήan, and motivation(s) for writing remain a matter of scholarly
debate, although most recent discussions have given him much more credit than was once the case.
Ιη addition to Goffart, Narrators, see (among many others), id., Barbarίan Tides: The Migration Age and
the Later Roman Empire (Philadelphia: UPP, 2006), 56-72; James J. O'Donnell, "The Aims of
Jordanes," Historίa 31 (1982): 223-40; and Lieve van Hoof and Peter van Nuffelen, "The
Histoήography of Crisis: Jordanes, Cassiodorus and Justinian in Mid-Sixth-Century
Constantinople," JRS 107 (2017): 275-300; for additional citations, Jonathan J. Arnold, Theoderίc
and the Roman Imperial Restoration (Cambridge: CUP, 2014), 170, nt. 127.
6 Jordanes, "Getica 1" in]ordanis Romana et Getica, MGH ΑΑ 5.1, ed. Theodor Mommsen (Berlin:
Weidmann, 1882), 53: "ut nostήs verbis duodecim Senatoris volumina de oήgine actusque
Getarum ... choartem." Cf Cassiodorus, Vaήae 9.25.5, in Cassiodorί Senatorίs Varίae, MGH ΑΑ 12,
ed. Theodor Mommsen (Berlin: Weidmann, 1894), 292: 'Όriginem Gothicam historiam fecit esse
Romanam." Οη Cassiodorus's career and loyalty to the Ostrogothic regime, John Moorhead,
"Boethius and Romans in Ostrogothic Service," Historia 27 (1978): 604-6; James J. O'Donnell,
Cassiodorus (Berkeley: UCP, 1979), 20-102; Μ. Shane Bjornlie, Politics and Tradition Between Rome,
Ravenna and Constantinople: Α Study of Cassiodorus and the Variae, 527-554 (Cambήdge: CUP, 2013),
7-33; Arnold, Imperίal Restoration, 37-56.
173
Jonathan ]. Arnold
7 Jordanes, Getica, 2-3; cf. Getica, 315-16 (cited below).

8 The literature οη the subject is extensive. See note 5, above.
9 Moreover, there was precedent for this. See Arnold, Imperial Restoration, 117-26.
1Ο Οη the association of virtus (and the Greek equivalent, andreia) with manliness and martial valour, see
Myles McDonnell, Roman Manliness: Virtus and the Roman Republic (Cambridge: CUP, 2006); Craig
Williams, Roman Homosexuality, 2nd ed. (Oxford: OUP, 2010), 139, 145-56; Kuefler, Eunuch,
19-69; Stewart, Soldier's Life, 2-19. For its association with the Goths ofltaly, Amold, "Theodeήc's
Invincible Mustache," JLA 6.1 (2013); id., Imperial Restoration, chp. 5, esp.
11 Α regular theme in Classical literature, where once "hard" peoples are often rendered "soft" through
their interaction with other "soft" peoples. See, for instance, Isaac, Racism, 239-47.
12 But see Arnaldo Momigliano, "Cassiodorus and the Italian Culture of his Time," Proceedings of the
British Academy 41 (1955): 207-45, who argues thatJordanes read an updated version of Cassiodorus's
history, complete with a revised narrative that had come to terms with the Justinianic reconquest.
Even Jordanes's "happy ending" is ascήbed to Cassiodorus.
13 See Arnold, Imperial Restoration; id., 'Όstrogothic Provinces: Administration and Ideology," in Α
Companion to Ostrogothic Italy, eds. J.J. Arnold, M.S. Bjornlie and Κ. Sessa (Leiden: Brill, 2016),
73-97; Gerda Heydemann, "The Ostrogothic Κingdom: Ideologies and Transitions," in Α
Companion to Ostrogothic Italy, eds. Arnold et al., 17-46.
14 Οη Ennodius, Moorhead, 'Έoethius," 606-7; Stefanie Kennell, Magnus Felix Ennodius: Α Gentleman
of the Church (Αηη Arbor: UMP, 2000); Arnold, Imperial Restoration, 9-36, 179-94, 243-61.
15 For Italian and non-Italian sources,John R. Martindale, The Prosopography of the Later Roman Empire,
vol. 2 (Cambήdge: CUP, 1980), 233-7. Οη Boethius more generally, Moorhead, 'Έoethius";
Samuel Barnish, "Maximian, Cassiodorus, Boethius, Theodahad: Literature, Philosophy and Politics
in Ostrogothic Italy," NMS 34 (1990): 16-32; Natalia Lozovsky, 'Ίntellectual Culture and Literary
Practices," in Α Companion to Ostrogothic Italy, ed. Arnold et al., 326, 331-37.
16 For example, Ennodius, Epist. 8.1 (ηο. 370), in Magni Felicis Ennodi Opera, MGH ΑΑ 7, ed. Friedrich
Vogel (Berlin: Weidmann, 1885), 268 or Paraenesis Didascalia (Opusc. 6/ηο. 452) 21, ed. Vogel,
314-5. For their correspondence, Kennell, Ennodius, 108-9.
17 Cf. Danuta Shanzer, 'Έnnodius, Boethius, and the Date and Interpretation of Maximianus' Elegia
ΠΙ," RFIC 111 (1983): 183-95; Barnish, "Maximian," 25; Richard Bartlett, "The Dating of
Ennodius' Wήtings," in Atti della seconda giornata ennodiana, ed. Ε. D'Angelo (Naples: Pubblicazioni
del Dipartimento di Filologia Classica dell'Universita degli Studi di Napoli Federico ΙΙ, 2003), 60-5;
Lozovsky, 'Ίntellectual Culture," 329-30.
18 Ennodius, Carm. 2.132 (ηο. 339), ed. Vogel, 249: "Languescit rigidi tecum substantia ferri, / Solvitur
atque chalybs more fiuentis aquae. / Emollit gladios inbellis dextra Boeti. / Ensis erat dudum, credite,
nunc colus est. / Ιη thyrsum migrat quod gestas, inprobe, pilum. / Ιη Venerem constans linque
Mavortis opem."
19 See Peter Heslin, The Transvestite Achilles: Gender and Genre in Statius' Achilleid (Cambήdge: CUP,
2005), 238-42.
20 Ennodius, Panegyricus 1-5, in Der Theoderich-Panegyricus des Ennodius, MGH Studien und Texte 12,
ed. and trans. C. Rohr (Hannover: Hanh, 1995), 196-8.
21 Ennodius, Pan. 5, ed. and trans Rohr, 198: "Salve, status reipublicae: ... Si bella regis mei numerem,
tot invenio quot tήumphos."
22 Ennodius, Pan. 5-6, ed. and trans. Rohr, 198-200: "Congressui tuo nullus hostium, nisi qui lau
dibus adderetur, occurrit: militavit tropaeis qui restitit voluntati: nam semper ... peperit subiectus
gloήam ... qui praesumpsit tela virtuti. Qui te in acie conspexit, superatus est."
23 See Menander Rhetor, "Basilikos Lagos," 371-374, in Menander Rhetor, ed. and trans. D.A. Russell
and N.G. Wilson (Oxford: CP, 1981), 80-9.
24 Ennodius, Pan. 11, ed. and trans. Rohr, 202: 'Έducavit te in gremio civilitatis Graecia ... mox eam
sequeretur secuήtas de tutore." Οη the importance of Theodeήc's "Greek" credentials, Arnold,
Imperial Restoration, 142-61; οη civilitas, an ideology of the Ostrogothic regime that stressed the rule
of law and functioned much like humanitas in earlier times, ibid., 126-32; also Heydemann,
'Όstrogothic Kingdom," 26-9.
25 Ennodius, Pan. 11-2, ed. and trans. Rohr, 202-4: "cum ad probationem roboris ... ruptis vinculis
furor emicuit .... Cum animos tuos ... inpulit lux naturae, ne ... ηοη beneficium necessitatis tempore
redderes quod pacis acceperas." Οη the association of strength (robur) with manliness, Kuefler, Manly
Eunuch, 21.
174
26 Ennodius, Pan. 11, ed. and trans. Rohr, 202: "et evisceratas diuturna quiete mentes occasionis pabulo
subiugavit." Οη the connection between too much peace and efferninacy, Isaac, Racism, 190, 307;
Kuefler, Manly Eunuch, 41.
27 Ennodius, Pan. 11-12, ed. and trans. Rohr, 202-4: "nec virtutum messem lacteus ante experi
mentum culmus attulerat .... Pulsa est extemplo pήncipalis urbe reverentia."
28 Ennodius, Pan. 12, ed. and trans. Rohr, 204: 'Ίη ipsis congressionis tuae foribus cessit invasor, cum
profugo per te sceptra redderentur de salute dubitanti."
29 This is the theme of Pan. 13-8. For the significance, Arnold, Imperial Restoration, 156-8. For de
fending the diadem, Pan. 14, ed. and trans. Rohr, 206: "Par te, inclyte dornine, laus respicit donati
diadematis et defensi."
30 Ennodius, Pan. 15, ed. and trans. Rohr, 206: "fasces accepisti, ηοη quo tibi accederet genius de
curuli, sed ut de te pretium palmata mereretur."
31 Ennodius, Pan. 16, ed. and trans. Rohr, 206: 'Ίlle annus habuit consulem, qui rempublicam ηοη tam
sollicitudine quam opinione tueretur, quo ίη segmentis posito quae ab hostibus sumpta fuerant arma
tremuerunt."
32 Ennodius, Pan. 19, ed. and trans. Rohr, 208: "fecunda actuum tuorum seges."
33 See Simona Rota, "Teoderico il grande fra Graecia e Ausonia: La rappresentazione del re ostrogotico
nel Panegyricus di Ennodio," MEFRM 113.1 (2001): 203-43; id., 'Έηηοdίο anti-Lucano. Ι modelli
epici del Panegyricus dictus celmentissimo regi Theoderico," in Atti dela prima Giornata Ennodiana: Pavia,
29-30 marzo 2000, ed. F. Gasti (Pisa: ETS, 2001), 31-55.
34 Ennodius, Pan. 52, ed. and trans. Rohr, 232: "Romani nominis clades."
35 Ennodius, Pan. 23-4, ed. and trans. Rohr, 212: "Saeviente ambitu pauper dominus odia effusione
contraxerat ... nec micare usquam scintillas famulantum extinctus tyranni fomes." Οη the connec
tions between luxury, softness, effeminacy, and decadence, Isaac, Racism, 285-96, 306-23; Kuefler,
Manly Eunuch, 41-61; Williams, Homosexuality, 148-51.
36 For "poor master" (pauper dominus), see the pήor note.
37 Ennodius, Pan. 23, ed. and trans. Rohr, 212: 'Ίam diuturnae quietis dispendio per gubernantium
vilitatem potens terra consenuerat, iam attulerat publicis opibus pax intemerata defectum ... "
38 Ibid.: "cum apud nos cottidianae depraedationis auctus successibus intestinus populator regeret, qui
suorum prodigu s incrementa aeraήi ηοη tam poscebat surgere vectigalibus quam rapinis."
39 Ennodius, Life of Epiphanius 138, ίη Ennodio: Vita del beatissimo Epifanio vescovo del chiesa pavese, ed. and
trans. Μ. Cesa (Como: New Press, 1988), 67 (a speech attributed to Theoderic): "Ίη tήstiam meam
segetum ferax spinas atque iniussa plantaήa campus adportat, et illa mater humanae messis Liguήa, cui
numerosa agήcolarum solebat constare progenies, orbata atque steήlis ieiunum cespitem nostris
monstrat obtutibus."'
40 Ennodius, Life of Epiphanius, 158-9, ed. and trans. Cesa, 70: "'Dolose rnihi virtus tua beneficium
praestitit .... Matrona sublirnis ... prornisit sibi vindicem te futurum. Virgo ab stupratoήs insidiis
pudorem suum tibi credebat discplicere posse si perderet."'
41 Infirm and apt to flee, Ennodius, Pan. 25, ed. and trans. Rohr, 214: "Generata est ab invalidis causa
certandi, et ne vel a negotio peήtuήs veniret fiducia, pars fugacium proelia concitavit"; surrender,
etc., Ennodius, Pan. 49, ed. and trans. Rohr, 230: 'Έcce iterum ad deditionem sibi cognitam hostium
leto debita pars cucurήt." Cf Pan. 45, where their "swift flight" (cursu praepeti) is described as "their
usual remedy" (remedia ... consueta).
42 Ennodius, Pan. 24, ed. and trans. Rohr, 212: "Metuebat parentes exercitus .... Nam ire ad nutum
suum legiones et remeare pavore algidus imperabat. Suspecta est enim oboedientia quae famulatur
indignis."
43 Ennodius, Pan. 37, ed. and trans. Rohr, 222: "datum est hostibus tuis vallum construere, ηοη tueή."
44 Ennodius, Pan. 38, ed. and trans. Rohr, 222-24: "Repente aequora fugacium discursus obnubit ...
acies tuae aspectu consummant proelia, ηοη labore."
45 Ennodius, Pan. 39, ed. and trans. Rohr, 224: "Sed instruxit rursus ίη deceptione sui mens vaga
conflictum, dum apud Veronam tuam apparatu nobili laxis manibus pugna instruebatur inpendiis."
46 Ibid.: "Nihil fortius adversaήis tuis ante aciem, sed cum bellicum cecinerunt classica, nihil infirrnius.
Maxima ίη luctarninis promissione virtus et, [qua]si sufficeret lingua pro dexteήs, copia summa verborum."
47 The subject of Pan. 26-35, which includes a lengthy account of Theodeήc's defeat of the Gepids
near the Ulca (Vuka) River.
48 Ennodius, Pan. 41-2, ed. and trans. Rohr, 226: 'Ίam raucum buccina concinebant, iam te sui oblitus
quaerebat exercitus. Qui dum munimentis chalybis pectus includeres, dum ocreis armarere, dum
175
Jonathan ]. Arnold
lateή tuo vindex libertatis gladius aptaretur, sanctam matrem et venerabilem sororem, quae ad te
diligentiae causa convenerant, dum inter spem et metum feminea sollicitudo penderet... "
49 Ennodius, Pan. 43, ed. and trans. Rohr, 226: "'Scis, genetήx, partus tui honore universis nota
nationibus, quod natalis mei tempore virum fecunda genuisti. Dies est, quo fιli tui sexum campus
adnuntiet: telis agendum est, ut avorum per me decora ηοη pereant .... Stat ante oculos meos genitor,
de quo numquam fecit ίη certamine fortuna ludibrium, qui dextram sibi ipse pepeήt valitudine
exigente successus."' The translation reads dextros (attested ίη the MSS) for Rohr's dextram, inter
preting it as an adjective modifying successus. Note that Simona Rota, ed. and trans., Magno Felice
Ennodio: Panegirico del clementissimo re Teoderico (opusc. 1) (Rome: Herder, 2002), 206 and 339 offers
dextra ("with his ήght hand") as an emendation, which would provide yet another contrast with
Boethius.
50 Ennodius, Pan. 45-6, ed. and trans. Rohr, 228: 'Ήίs dictis excepit te tergo sonipes, lituorum de
sideήis inquietus .... Protinus adventum tuum indicavit hostibus populus occissorum: executorem
prodidit caedis enormitas .... Mundi faecem suscipiens."
51 Ennodius, Pan. 51, ed. and trans. Rohr, 232: "inermem dexteram Odovacri."
52 Ennodius, Pan. 48, ed. and trans. Rohr, 230: 'Ίllic vellem ut aetatis inmemor, Roma, conmeares. Si
venires lapsantibus tremebunda vestigiis, aevum gaudia conmutarent. Quid semper delubήs inmersa
concluderis?"
53 Ennodius, Pan. 56, ed. and trans. Rohr, 236: "Video insperatum decorem urbium cineribus evenisse
et sub civilitatis plenitudine palatina ubique tecta rutilare."
54 Ennodius, Pan. 56-7, ed. and trans. Rohr, 236: 'Ίlla ipsa mater civitatum Roma iuvenescit .... Huc
accedit, quod coronam curiae innumero flore velasti."
55 This is largely the subject of Pan. 83-8. For ''your heroes" (heroas tuos) and "the sweetness of civilitas"
(civilitatis dulcedini), Ennodius, Pan. 87, ed. and trans. Rohr, 258-60.
56 Ennodius, Pan. 83, ed. and trans. Rohr, 256: "Nam illud quo ore celebrandum est, quod Getici
instrumenta roboris, dum provides ne interpellentur otia nostra, custodis et pubem indomitam sub
oculis tuis inter bona tranquillitatis facis bella proludere? Adhuc manent ίη soliditate viήum victricia
agmina .... Durantur lacerti... et inplent actionem fortium."
57 Ennodius, Pan. 60, ed. and trans. Rohr, 238: "Sed ecce rursus post quietem solidam ad acies verba
revocamus .... Sermiensium civitas olim limes Italiae fuit .... Haec postea per regentium neglectum ίη
Gepidarum iura concessit."
58 Ennodius, Pan. 61, ed. and trans. Rohr, 240: "Urebant animum principis .... Credebas ίη tua iniuria
perire ... nec sufficiebat consolatio, quod eam tu ηοη perdideras."
59 Ibid.: "cum inmensus esset dolor, cur illam retentator ηοη inter dominationis tuae exordia redidisset.
Minui aestimas quod ηοη crescit impeήum."
60 For Pitzia, Martindale, PLRE 2, 886-7.Both he and the lesser known Herduic, with whom he
shared the command, were comites described by Ennodius as "the most noble of the Goths"
(Gothorum nobilissimos). On the Sirmian campaign itself, as well as the Pannonian province that
emerged as a consequence (Pannonia Sirmiensis), see Arnold, "Provinces," 80-4.
61 Ennodius, Pan. 63, ed. and trans. Rohr, 240-2. The eastern Roman army ίη question was led by
Sabinianus, consul ίη 505 and magister militum per Illyήcum. That his army was primarily made up
ofBulgars is mentioned only ίη western sources. See Martindale, PLRE 2, 967-8.
62 See Ennodius, Life of Epiphanius 54, ed. and trans. Cesa, 52, with Arnold, Imperial Restoration, 16-20.
The litde Greek (Graeculus) ίη question was the emperor Anthemius, who had been sent to Italy by
the eastern emperor Leo ίη 467. Οη the insult and Greek associations with effeminacy, Isaac, Racism,
381-405; Williams, Homosexuality, 149; Arnold, Imperial Restoration, 141, 147-8, 232; and Stewart,
Soldier's Life, 232-6, 286-7, 301-3.
63 For unconquered youths (indomitam Vulgarum iuventutem), Ennodius, Pan. 64, ed. and trans. Rohr,
242. For the rest, Ennodius, Pan. 66, ed. and trans. Rohr, 244: "Miratae sunt mutuo sui similes
inveniri et ίη humano genere vel Gothos resistentem videre vel Vulgares."
64 The speech occurs ίη the midst of the Goths' gory struggle against the Gepids, who blocked their route
to Italy along the Ulca (Vuka) River. See Ennodius, Pan. 31, ed. and trans. Rohr, 220: "cum inter
naufragia terrena et cruroήs undas invictissimus ductor apparuit, tali muniens adstantes alloquio."
65 Ennodius, Pan. 64, ed. and trans. Rohr, 242: 'Έminus Pitzia ... ardentes adulescentium impetus
potioribus verborum armavit incendiis."
66 Ennodius, Pan. 65, ed. and trans. Rohr, 242-44: "'Meministis, socii, cuius ad haec loca conmeastis
impeήo. Nemo absentes credat regis nostή oculos, pro cuius fama dimicandum est. Si caelum
176
lancearum imber obtexerit, qui fortius telum iecerit ηοη latebit. Ferro pectora inmergite, ut veniat ...
spes manifesta victoriae. ... Aut forte gentem nostram dedignantur aestimare de principe? Intellegant
ab eo fluxisse quod gerimus, nec liceat illis, quod rector noster tranmisit ad originem, uni tantum
debere personae."'
67 Ennodius, Pan. 66-7, ed. and trans. Rohr, 244: "continuo ... se praecipitem plebs Marti inmiscuit. ...
superavit nostή memoήa pήncipis."
68 Ennodius, Pan. 67-8, ed. and trans. Rohr, 244-6: "Versa est ίη fugam natio punita gravius, quod
evasit.... Cum ingenti lamentatione properabant.... Quid strages militum revolvam et Sabiniani
ducis abitionem turpissimam, cum a ratione dividatur retexere exterrninatis patrociniis quid eveneήt
indefenso?"
69 Ennodius, Pan. 68-9, ed. and trans. Rohr, 246: "celebrandus saeculis Pitzia .... Interea ad limitem
suum Romana regna remearunt."
70 Οη Cassiodorus, see note 6 (above). His official works include letters wήtten οη behalf of the
Ostrogothic regime between 506-511, 523-527, and 533-537 (later edited and published as the
Variae), a Chronica commissioned by Eutharic (Theoderic's presumed heir) οη the occasion of his
consulship (519), a number of (mosdy fragmentary) panegyήcs, and the History that Jordanes em
ployed, which was commissioned by Theodeήc.
71 Cassiodorus's history was already ίη circulation by 533, as demonstrated by Variae 9.25.
72 Cassiodorus, Chronica a. 489, ed. Theodor Mommsen, Cassiodori Senatoris chronica ad α. DXIX, MGH
ΛΑ 1 1 (Berlin: Weidmann, 1894), 159: 'Ήίs cons. Felicissimus atque fortissimus dn. rex Theodeήcus
intravit Italiam." Note that, stήctly speaking, Theoderic is first mentioned ίη the entry for 484,
where the date is indicated by the consulships of"dn. Theodeήchus et Venantius." For commentary,
Arnold, Imperial Restoration, 153-4. For Odovacer, Cassiodorus, Chronica a. 489 (defeated twice and
flees), 490 (defeated and fiees ίη a third conflict), 491 (defeated attempting an attack at night), 493
(killed while plotting against Theoderic).
73 Cassiodorus, Chronica a. 504, ed. Mommsen, 160: 'Ήοc cons. virtute dn. regis Theoderici victis
Vulgaribus Sirrnium recepit Italia."
74 Cassiodorus, Orationum Reliquiae, ed. L. Traube, ίη Cassiodori Senatoris Variae, ed. Theodor
Mommsen, MGH ΛΑ 12 (Berlin: Weidmann, 1894), 466: "provincias iustitiae serenita- / te tran
quillat, frenat superbas gen- / tes impeήo ... Macte, infatigabilis tήumphator, quo / pugnante fessa rei
publicae membra / reparantur et ad saecula nostra an- / tiqua beatitudo revertitur." For additional
commentary, Arnold, "Provinces," 84-91; id., "Theoderic and Rome: Conquered but
Unconquered," Antiquitέ Tardive 25 (2017): 122-3.
75 See Patήck Amory, People and Identity in Ostrogothic Italy (Cambήdge: CUP, 1997), 5(}-7; Arnold,
"Mustache," 155, 181-3; id., Imperial Restoration, 126-41, 269-81; id.,"Provinces," 75-90.
76 Cassiodorus, Variae 1.24.1, ed. Mommsen, 27: 'Ίnnotescenda sunt magis Gothis quam suadenda
certarnina, quia bellicosae stirpi est gaudium comprobaή: laborem quippe ηοη refugit, qui virtutis
gloήam concupiscit. ... Latet enim sub otio laudabilis fortitudo ..."
77 Cassiodorus, Variae 1.24.2-3, ed. Mommsen, 27: " ...parentum vestrorum ίη vobis ostendatis inesse
virtutem .... Producite iuvenes vestros ίη Martiam disciplinam."
78 Cassiodorus, Variae 3.23.3, ed. Mommsen, 91: "Gothorum possis demonstrare iustitiam: qui ... et
Romanorum prudentiam caperent et virtutem gentium possiderent."
79 Cassiodorus, Variae 3.24.4, ed. Mommsen, 92: 'Ίmitamini certe Gothos nostros, qui foήs proelia,
intus norunt exercere modestiam."
80 For famous ίη war (to the Goth Ibba, who had led the invasion of Gaul), Cassiodorus, Variae 4.17.3,
ed. Mommsen, 122: "qui es bello clarus, civilitate quoque reddaris eximius"; for glory of civilitas (to
the senate, regarding the Goth Arigern), Cassiodorus, Variae 4.16.1, ed. Mommsen, 121: "et gloriam
civilitatis retulit ... et bellorum insignia reportavit."
81 See Cassiodorus, Variae 4.1.2, ed. Mommsen, 114 (to the Thuήngian king Herminafiid, who had
recendy marήed Theodeήc's niece, Amalaberga): 'Ήabebit felix Thoήngia quod nutήvit Italia, litteήs
doctam, moήbus eruditam, decoram ηοη solum genere, quantum et feminea dignitate." Other ex
amples include Theodeήc's sister, Amalafrida (Variae 5.43 and 9.1); his daughter, Amalasuintha (Variae
10.4.5-7, 11.1, discussed below), his grandson, Athalaήc (Variae 8.1.1, 8.2.3-4, 8.5.2, 9.25.4-6), his
nephew Theodahad (Variae 10.1.2, 10.3.3-6, 11.13.4), and two anonymous Amal pήncesses (Variae
8.9.7, 8.11.4, and 10.11-12). Even Theodeήc could be praised for being a kind of purple-clad phi
losopher (Variae 9.24.8). For a discussion of the"Roman and impeήal qualities" of the Amal dynasty,
Arnold, Imperial Restoration, 165-74.
177
Jonathan ]. Arnold
82 Cassiodorus, Variae 8.21.3, ed. Mornmsen, 252 (to the illustήous senator Cyprian, who had parti
cipated in the Sirmian campaign): "Vidit te adhuc gentilis Danuvius bellatorem. ... Peculiare tibi fuit
et renitentes barbaros aggredi et conversos terrore sectaή. Sic victoriam Gothorum ηοη tarn numero
quam labore iuvisti." Other examples include Cyprian's father (Variae 8.17.2) and sons (Variae
8.21.6-7), the patήcian Liberius (Variae 11.1.16), the sons of Venantius (Variae 9.23.3), and even
Cassiodorus himself (Variae 9.25.8-10) and his father (Variae 1.3.4). See Arnold, Imperial Restoration,
139-41; also Amory, People and Identity, 73-4, 94-5.
83 See TLL, s.v. "consors" and "consortium."
84 Cassiodorus, Variae 7.3.2-3, ed. Mommsen, 203: "dulci otio perfruantur ... vos, autem, Romani,
magno studio Gothos diligere debetis, qui et in pace numerosos vobis populos faciunt et universam
rem publicam per bella defendunt."
85 Cassiodorus, Variae 8.3.4, ed. Mornmsen, 234: "illi labores bellicos pro communi utilitate subeunt,
vos autem habitatio quieta civitatis Romanae multiplicat."
86 Cassiodorus, Variae 11.13.3-4, ed. Mommsen, 342: 'Άma, piissime principum, defensores meos. ...
ecce alumnos meos ... geminavi, ecce civibus ornata resplendui. ... Senatus meus honoribus crescit,
facultatibus indesinenter augetur. ... Diligo Harnalum meis ubeήbus enutritum, virum fortem mea
conversatione compositum, Romanis prudentia carum, gentibus virtute reverendum."
87 Οη Tuluin, Martindale, PLRE 2, 1131-33.
88 For arrns, Cassiodorus, Variae 8.10.5, ed. Mommsen, 240: "arrnis semper studuisse crederetur"; brave
man, Cassiodorus, Variae 8.1Ο.9, ed. Mommsen, 241: "forti viro"; disciple, Cassiodorus, Variae 8.9.7,
ed. Mornmsen, 238: "te illius esse discipulum."
89 Οη the position, which Theodeήc himself technically held when he invaded Italy at Zeno's behest,
Arnold, Imperial Restoration, 66-70, 67, nt. 28, esp.
90 Cassiodorus, Variae 8.9.3, ed. Mommsen, 238: "hic est honor, qui et armis convenit et in pace
resplendent: hunc illa dives Graecia, quae multa gloήosissimo domno avo nostro debuit, gratificata
persolvit."
91 Cassiodorus, Variae 8.9.3-4, ed. Mommsen, 238: "crescat visendi studium eois populis heroam
nostrum .... Hac igitur honoήs remuneratione contentus pro exteris partibus indefessa devotione
laboravit ... "
92 Cassiodorus, Variae 8.8.3, ed. Mornmsen, 238: "velavit fortes humeros cWarnydum vestis, pinxit suras
eius calceus iste Romanus... dum nescio quo pacto in eo, qui bellicosus creditur civilia plus arnantur."
93 For Tuluin's childhood education at court, Cassiodorus, Variae 8.10.2-4, ed. Mommsen, 239-40.
For teacher's glory, Cassiodorus Variae 8.10.2: "constat ad institutoήs eius gloriarn pertinere"; for
peace and war, Cassiodorus, Variae 8.9.5, ed. Mornmsen, 238: "tecum pacis certa, tecum belli dubia
conferebat."
94 Cassiodorus, Variae 8.10.1, ed. Mommsen, 239: "auctus est enim pacis genius de ferri radiantis ornatu
nec discincta iacet toga iam procinctualis effecta." Οη discinctus (effeminate/loose/ungirt), Williams,
Homosexuality, 162-75.
95 Cassiodorus, Variae 8.10.4, ed. Mommsen, 239-40: "Cuius ut coepit aetas adulescere teneήque anni
in robustam gentis audaciam condurari, ad expeditionem directus est Sirmensem: ut quod ab illo
Martio viro verbis didicerat, in camporum libertate monstraret."
96 Cassiodorus, Variae 8.10.4, ed. Mornmsen, 240: "Tales mittunt nostra cunabula bellatores: ...nutritus
in otioso servitio ... quod exercitatione ηοη didicit, virtus prona complevit."
97 Cassiodorus, Variae 8.10.4-5, ed. Mommsen, 240: 'Έgit de Hunnis inter alios tήumphum et
emeήtam laudem pήmis congressibus auspicatus neci dedit Bulgares toto orbe terribiles .... Rediit
subito ad principem veteranus .... Hoc ήmator ille actuum et bonorum remunerator inspiciens
vigorem illi regiae domus virtutis contemplatione cornmisit ... "
98 Cassiodorus, Variae 8.10.6, ed. Mommsen, 240: 'Άrnmonet etiarn expeditio Gallicana, ubi iarn inter
duces directus et prudentiam suam bellis et peήcula promtissimus ingerebat."
99 Cassiodorus, Variae 8.10.6-7, ed. Mornmsen, 240: "Quapropter excitata sunt Gothorum
Francorumque valdissima ea tempestate certamina. Affuit illic dubiis rebus audacia candidati, ubi
tanta cum globis hostium concertatione pugnavit, ut et inimicos a suis desideήis arnoveret."
100 Cassiodorus, Variae 8.10.7, ed. Mommsen, 240: "vulnera factorum suorum signa susciperet: vulnera
inquam ... propria lingua virtutis, quae ... reliquum tamen vitae tempus exornant."
101 Ibid.: "de fortitudine probata ηοη ambigitur."
102 Cassiodorus, Variae 8.10.8, ed. Mornmsen, 241: "Mittitur igitur ... rursus ad Gallias tuendas ....
Adquisivit rei publicae Romanae ... provinciam." The new "province" in question, acquired in
178
523/4, extended the Ostrogothic frontier in Provence to the Isere River. See Jonathan J. Arnold,
"The Merovingians and Italy: Ostrogoths and Early Lombards," in The Oxford Handbook of the
Merovingian World, eds. Β.Effros and Ι. Moreira (Oxford: OUP, 2020), 447.
103 Cassiodorus, Variae 8.10.11, ed. Mommsen, 241: "Favete nunc auspiciis candidati et viris nostήs
Libertatis atήa reserate. Convenit getem Romuleam Martios viros habere collegas." For commen
tary, Arnold, Imperial Restoration, 136-137.
104 This is the subject of Cassiodorus, Variae 11.1.6-8, ed. Mommsen, 328. For priceless familiarity,
Cassiodorus, Variae 11.1.7, "eximium inpretiabilis notitia litterarum."
105 For similar conclusions, Arnold, Imperial Restoration, 48-51.
106 Cassiodorus, Variae 11.1.9, ed. Mommsen, 328: "Placidiam mundi opinione celebratam, aliquorum
pήncipum prosapia gloήosam purpurato filio studuisse percepimus ... "
107 Cassiodorus, Variae 11.1.9, ed. Mommsen, 328-29: "cuius dum remisse administrat impeήum ....
Militem quoque nimia quiete dissolvit."
108 Cassiodorus, Variae 11.1.9, ed. Mommsen, 329: "indecenter cognoscitur imminutum. Nurum de
nique sibi amissione Illyrici comparavit factaque est coniunctio regnantis divisio dolenda provinciis."
109 Ibid.: "Pertulit a matre protectus quod vix pati potuit destitutus."
110 Cassiodorus, Variae 11.1.10, ed. Mommsen, 329: "Sub hac autem domina ... noster exercitus terret
externos: qui provida dispositione libratus nec assiduis bellis adteritur nec iterum longa pace
mollitur."
111 See Cassiodorus, Variae 11.1.10-13, ed. Mommsen, 329. For the Danube, Variae 11.1.10: "Contra
Oήentis pήncipis votum Romanum fecit esse Danuvium." For context, Arnold, "Provinces," 83-4;
id. "Merovingians," 448-9.
112 Cassiodorus, Variae 11.1.12-14, ed. Mommsen, 329: "Macte procinctus Gothorum omni felicitate
iucundior. ...Exultate, Gothi pariter ac Romani: dignum miraculum, quod omnes loquantur." For
mistress, see the following note.
113 Cassiodorus, Variae 11.1.14, ed. Mommsen, 329: "ecce praestante deo felix domina quod habet
eximium uterque sexus, implevit: nam et gloriosum regem nobis edidit et latissimum impeήum
animi fortitudine vindicavit."
114 See Cassiodorus, Variae 11.1.15-18, ed. Mommsen, 329-30.
115 Cassiodorus, Variae 11.1.19, ed. Mommsen, 330: 'Όrdo flagitat dictionis Augustarum veterum
pompam moderna comparatione excutere. Sed quemadmodum illi sufficere poterunt exempla
feminea, cui virorum laus cedit universa?"
116 Ibid.: "Cognoscerent hic profecto universi singillatim propήa, sed feliciter faterentur esse su
perata .... " The qualities that Cassiodorus associated with these Amal kings were in fact Roman and
imperial virtues, a point that served to demonstrate the Romanness and imperial nature of the Amal
dynasty. See Arnold, Imperial Restoration, 173-4.
117 See Arnold, Imperial Restoration.
118 For manly deeds, Getica 282 (before becoming king) and 292-5 (war against Odovacer); for marriage
alliances, Getica 295-9. One also notes that Jordanes appears to stress Theodeήc's non-martial
qualities while in the East, emphasizing his placid nature, peaceful and wealthy surroundings, and
fήendship with the emperor rather than his military support, which goes entirely unmentioned. The
contrast with the accounts ofEnnodius and Cassiodorus is telling. Cf. Jordanes, Getica 271, 289-92.
The contrast with Procopius, who emphasises Theodeήc's wisdom and manliness, is also telling. See
Stewart, Soldier's Life, 262-4.
119 Jordanes, Getica 80 (daughter, mother, and wife); 251 (wife, daughter, and mother); 298 (daughter
and wife); 304-6 (mother and widow); 311 (mother and daughter). For peaceful reign, Jordanes,
Getica 305: "quod praeceptum quamdiu Athalaήcus rex eiusque mater adviverent, in omnibus
custodientes pene per octo annos in pace regnarunt .... cetera in pace et tranquillitate possessa."
120 For the Franks, who despise Athalaήc (not Amalasuintha) and plot war in Gaul until they are given
lands by the king, Jordanes, Getica 305; cf. Jordanes, Romana 367. The account is clearly confused,
but see Arnold, "Merovingians," 447-9, for an explanation. For weakness, Jordanes, Getica 306:
"tum mater, ne pro sexus sui fragilitate a Gothis sperneretur.... " The contrast with Procopius, whose
Amalasuintha remains a "manly woman," is again telling. See Stewart, Soldier's Life, 272-6.
121 Jordanes, Getica 306-7.
122 Jordanes, Getica 308-13. For completely annihilated, ibid., 312: "Romano exercitu ipsi evulsi et
omnino extincti sunt"; for Witigis, ibid., 312-3: "Vitiges ut leo furibundus ... sed frustrata eius
179
Jonathan ]. Arnold
audacia ... aufugit .... Unde pari tenore frustratus fugatusque Ravenna se recepit; ubi obsessus nec
mora ultro se ad partes dedit victoήs ... "
123 Cassiodorus, Variae 10.3.1-2, ed. Mommsen, 318: "inter procinctuales gladios ... regalem nobis
contulisse praestante domino dignitatem, ut honorem arma darent, cuius opinionem bella pepererant.
...sum quaesitus, ut tali fremitu concitatus desiderio virtutis igenitae regem sibi Martium Geticus
populus inveniret." Cf. Cassiodorus, Orationum Reliquiae, ed. L. Traube, 473-6. Οη Procopius's
more complicated depiction ofWigitis, Stewart, Soldier's Life, 281-96.
124 Jordanes, Getica 315-6, ed. Mommsen, 138: 'Ήaec laudanda progenies laudabiliori pήncipi cessit et
fortiori duci manus dedit .... Nec me quis ίη favorem gentis praedictae ... aliqua addidisse credat,
quam quae legi et comperi. Nec si tamen cuncta, quae de ipsis scήbuntur aut referuntur, complexus
sum, nec tantum ad eorum laudem quantum ad laudem eius qui vicit exponens." One notes that
Jordanes again admits to having cut and added material from his available sources.
125 Cf. O'Donnell, ''Jordanes," 23(}-3.
180
10
CONTESTED IDENTITIES ΙΝ
ΒΥΖΑΝΤΙΝΕ NORTH AFRICA
Andy Merrills
Questions of identity were of cήtical political importance from the very first hours of the
Byzantine occupation of North Afi-ica. Belisaήus's expeditionary force landed οη the coast of
Byzacena in late August 533 and immediately set about scouήng the suπounding landscape as
they prepared for the first offensive against the Vandal kingdom. Their general viewed these
aggressive requisitions with concern, feaήng the effect that they would have οη relations with
the local populace. Procopius reports Belisarius's speech to his chastised troops:
For Ι have disembarked you upon this land basing my confidence οη this alone, that
the Libyans, who have always been Romans, are unfaithful and hostile to the Vandals,
and for this reason Ι thought we would lack ηο necessities and, besides, that the enemy
would not do us injury by any sudden attack. But now your lack of self-control has
turned this entirely around for us. For you have doubtless reconciled the Libyans to
the Vandals, bήnging their hostility round upon your own selves ... Now, therefore,
the war will be between you and both the Vandals and the Libyans, and Ι, at least, say
that it will be against God himself, whose aid ηο one who does wrong can evoke.1
The justification for the Byzantine intervention in North Afήca changed substantially over the
months that followed the first landing, not least because of its unexpected success. Initially cast
as an attempt to restore the deposed Vandal king Hildeήc, who had been sympathetic to
Constantinople, the rapid defeat of the usurper Gelimer at Ad Decimum in rnid-September,
and again at Tήcamarum in rnid-December changed this.2 The expedition was subsequently
refi-amed as a liberation of lost Roman provinces from heretical 'Άήaη" barbaήans and the
restoration of orthodox impeήal power. Procopius was wήting around a decade and a half after
the Byzantine victory, and his account of Belisaήus's speech emphasises this ideology of re
conquest particularly clearly. Here, the population of the Vandal Κingdom is provisionally
divided into two: οη the one hand were the Vandals themselves, hostile outsiders against whom
the rnight of the empire was ranged, οη the other the Libyans, who had retained their essentially
"Roman" identity through the long years of the barbaήan inteπegnum. Υet Belisaήus's speech
hints at an ambivalence in this opposition: profound as the differences between Romans and
Vandals may have been, it was the actions of the soldiers themselves, their performance of
DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-12 181

Andy Merrills
Roman moderation rather than barbaήan excess, and the recognition of the shared kinship
between occupying forces and liberated population, which would render these identities
strategically valuable. 3 It was this connection, too, which would ensure divine support for the
expedition as a whole.
Thanks in part to the uneven nature of our source material, there has been a tendency to
view the history of early Byzantine North Afήca in terms of oppositions between well-defined
groups. The passage above reveals Belisarius's (or Procopius's) view of a Roman-Afi-ican po
pulation which had a great deal in common with the incoming impeήal power, but whose
loyalty to it could not be taken for granted; much recent scholarship has illuminated the
sometimes uneasy relations between a Latin-speaking Afi-ican population and a new Byzantine
bureaucracy predominantly staffed by Greek-speakers. 4 Different oppositions are implied by the
military architecture that dominated the Afήcan landscape fi-om the later 530s, and fashioned
5
towns into fortresses and monuments into citadels. Combined with Coήppus's heroic cele
bration of Byzantine campaigning in his epic Iohannis, (a Latin poem wήtten by an Afήcan
author in celebration of an impeήal campaign between 546 and 548), this implies an essential
division between the worlds of urban civilization and rural Mooήsh barbaήsm. 6 Indeed, the
essential narrative of the 530s and 540s is most often framed as the punctuated consolidation of
impeήal rule onto terήtoήes that had been lost to the Moors during the Vandal century.
Meanwhile, the considerable corpus of religious wήting to survive fi-om Afi-ica in the 540s and
550s implies fissures and oppositions of a different kind-not least through the response of a
well-established Afήcan episcopal establishment to theological views imposed from
Constantinople duήng the fractious Three Chapters controversy. 7 Inevitable compaήsons have
been drawn with the Donatist schism, which convulsed the region in the fourth and early fifth
centuries, and the Monothelite debates of the seventh, and it is sometimes easy to see the
Afήcan church as peculiarly resistant to impeήal directives οη matters of faith. 8 Even as recent
work has inteπogated these oppositions more closely-noting, for example, the importance of
Mooήsh federates to the occupation itself, or the degree to which Afήcan theologians were
more concerned to contήbute to religious discussions οη a world stage than to assert a blinkered
provincialism-these essential oppositions have sometimes proved hard to shift. 9
The fragmentary nature of our evidence for Byzantine Afi-ica-both textual and
archaeological-makes any meaningful study of identity within the region immensely difficult.
These challenges are compounded by questions of teleology, whether or not scholars have
acknowledged this point directly. The relatively rapid collapse of impeήal power in the face of
Arab conquests in the seventh century has often led to the assumption that the impeήal presence
in the region was only ever superficial, and that this was as true of local identities, as it was of
military and political infrastructure. 10 Υet if wider questions of identity remain beset with
considerable problems, the unusually febrile atmosphere of early Byzantine Afi-ica is never
theless a rewarding context for reflecting οη identities οη a much more localised scale.
The present chapter seeks to explore some shifting identities which came into focus in
North Afήca duήng the 530s, 540s, and 550s. This is certainly the best-documented peήod of
impeήal control, in terms of clearly datable material evidence as well as textual sources. The
chapter looks first at the specific issue of identity as it relates to the military within Byzantine
Afήca. These were the troops charged with the duty of bήnging the region beneath the im
peήal aegis. The cultural diversity of the Byzantine army, made up as it was of volunteers,
conscripts, and federates fi-om across the impeήal world, has been widely acknowledged, but
little attention has been paid to the degree to which the articulation of local military identities
represented a distinct factor in the operation of impeήal power in North Mήca. We then turn
to the issue of Vandal identity in the decades following the collapse of the Hasding kingdom.
182
Contested Identities in North Africa
The references to "Vandals" in the sources of the early Byzantine peήod mark the imposition of
a new collective label onto the shattered remnants of a defeated group, shaped in part by the
tήumphant ideology within the empire, and in part by the rapidly changing social and political
impulses of the newly impeήal provinces. Following the Byzantine occupation, "Vandalness"
was defined less as a particular manifestation of social, political, and economic distinction, as it
had been over the preceding century, and was instead connected increasingly to religious and
(especially) military opposition to the new regime. This is particularly apparent through the
imposition (and appropriation) of aspects of "Vandal" identity by a succession of Byzantine
military rebels, with little direct connection to the erstwhile Carthaginian kingdom. As
Belisaήus's statement acknowledges, "Roman" (or "Libyan") affiliation was not simply a latent
identity, to be reactivated by a resurgent impeήal power as terήtoήes were smoothly re
integrated into a new empire. The impeήal administration sometimes behaved as if it was, to be
sure, but the working out of this new ideology, its contestations fi-om below and (crucially and
rarely discussed) its appropήations οη the part of rebellious or disparate elements within the new
administration, testify to the complexities of this process.
The final part of the chapter briefly addresses "Mooήsh" identity. That is to say the other
forms of social and political affiliation which existed in North Afήca at the time of the oc
cupation. Belisaήus did not mention this part of the Afi-ican population in his speech to the
troops at Caput Vada, but they remained crucial elements in Byzantine policy in the region and
were a constant puzzle to Procopius and to contemporary wήters. Ιη truth, of course, the vast
Afi-ican hinterland beyond the impeήal cities was socially and politically vaήed. Ενeη those
regions of Mauretania, western and southern Numidia or inland Tήpolitania which had once
been part of the empire, but which had fallen outside the progressively shήnking fi-ontiers of
later Roman, Vandal, and Byzantine control, encompassed an extraordinary geographical di
versity and a consequent variety of human social organization. Populations living in these re
gions would not have regarded themselves as unified, and while they may have shared some
linguistic, religious, or socio-cultural affιliations, their regional diversity was also pronounced.
The cuπent chapter does not attempt to address these multiple Mooήsh identities-which have
been the subject of several important monographs and will doubtless prompt many more-but
rather reflects οη categoήes of "Moorishness" from the Byzantine perspective, and the degree
to which such approaches have complicated modern thinking about late antique Afήca. It
considers, in other words, what the statements and silences about Moors might tel1 us about
Byzantine identity in broad terms, and the degree to which we remain beholden to these
categoήes in our understanding of this complex part of the Justinianic empire.
The Army ίη Africa

Troops were the ultimate agents ofJustinian's conquest, first through the defeat of the Vandals
and the secuήng of the province fi-om external threats, and then through continued control of
terήtoήes which were several weeks' journey from Constantinople, and often significantly
isolated even from Carthage. Ιη Spήng 534, Justinian issued two edicts which established a
substantial civic bureaucratic infi-astructure under the authoήty of the Praetoήan Prefect, and
a comparable military administration under the five provincial military commanders (duces). 11
Α great deal of the practical government of the new region, including much judicial respon
sibility, fell under this military remit.12 Equally, the nominal political authoήty of the Prefect
was often overshadowed by the military influence of magistri militum, who held overall military
command of the region. These were positions without formal portfolio in the early years of the
occupation-the first references to the specific regional title magister militum per Africam only
183
Andy Merrills
date to circa 570-but who nevertheless exerted considerable personal authoήty in impeήal
Afήca. 13 Our naπative sources testify to prefects who were essentially helpless in the face of
political pressure from their military counterparts, and in three peήods, under Solomon in
534-5 and 539-44, and his nephew Sergius from 544 to 545, the magister militum himself held
the post of Praetoήan Prefect concuπently.14
The effective functioning of state power in Afήca rested heavily οη the continued loyalty of
the army, yet this was far fi-om assured in the 530s and 540s. The first decades of the occupation
witnessed one major mutiny, which ran from 536 to 546, and which at its height is said to have
included two-thirds of the Afi-ica garήson (perhaps 10,000 men), and led bήefly to the es
15
tablishment of an autonomous kingdom in Mauretania. Ιη the winter of 545-6, there was a
successful coup under the Dux Numidiae, Gunthaήs, one of the most senior impeήal officers in
Afήca. 16 Gunthaήs assassinated the magister militum Areobindus, seized control for himself
duήng a peήod of profound military cήsis, and ultimately retained power for little more than a
month, probably in around February 546. The ήsing may have implicated a majoήty of the
Afήca gaπison; certainly, loyal troops under the Dux Byzacenae Marcentius were forced to take
refuge οη an island off the coast, and were themselves subject to a campaign to bήng them to
heel.17 Ιη addition to these major cήses, we know of at least one other failed putsch, and
innumerable cases of infighting among the military and civilian commanders of the region, even
in periods of relative peace. 18 It is with good reason that entries relating to North Mήca in the
sixth-century chronicle sources are almost exclusively concerned with mutiny and rebellion,
and almost never with wars against Mooήsh barbaήans.19 While modern scholars may have
emphasised the theological debates of the Three Chapters controversy as the greatest challenge
to impeήal authoήty in Byzantine North Mήca, it is unlikely that contemporary inhabitants of
the region would have concuπed: the soldiery itself posed a far more immediate (and longer
lasting) challenge to peace.
The heterogeneity of theJustinianic army in Afήca has long been recognised, of course, and
this multi-ethnic, polyglot diversity was doubtless complicated further by personal networks of
loyalty, particularly around the pήncipal officers.20 Each of the commanders in the field could
expect the personal loyalty of his own followers, who were often themselves drawn from
particular parts of the impeήal world.21 Belisaήus's dependence οη Thracian soldiers, or
Artabanes's οη Armenians are well known, and such patterns of personal dependence are likely
to have been widespread.22 Procopius also informs us of distinct units of Hunnic and Gothic
federates within the army, and local Moorish recruits also had an important role to play in the
campaigns of the mid 540s, in Italy as well as in Afήca.23 Ιη itself, this vaήety was probably not
particularly unusual for a Byzantine army, and in other ways---;;uch as dress-unifoπnity was
presumably widespread, but there can be little doubt that social and ethnic diversity helped
catalyse the many military cήses of the region.24 Procopius's account of the ήsing ofEaster 536,
for example, places particular emphasis οη soldiers' discontent at the prohibition of Homoian
(or Αήaη) religious worship in Carthage, a policy that was introduced to placate an Afήcan
church that had long suffered under the Vandals, but which alienated many ofJustinian's troops
who were themselves Aήans.25 Another stated cause was the confiscation of the estates which
some impeήal soldiers had claimed following marήage to the wives and daughters of the de
parted Vandals, and which they regarded as theirs by ήght.26 While it seems likely that the
principal causes behind all of the Afi-ican revolts, (including that of 536) were discontent at
delayed pay and resentment at incompetent leadership-certainly the prompt supply of back
pay and arήval of popular commanders saw most dissolve quite quickly-it remains stήking that
fragmented points of collective identity remained noteworthy rallying points for revolt and
were remembered by Procopius more than a decade later.27 Ιη his address to the troops at
184
Caput Vada, Belisaήus certainly recognised the discrepancy between "Romanness" as it was
understood by the impeήal citizens of Byzacena and Byzantium, but his speech also ac
knowledged that the soldiers themselves were hardly perfect agents of this impeήal mission.
Conspicuously, the Afi-ican revolts related to the ideology of empire in a vaήety of ways. Ιη
some cases, the rebels aspired to impeήal legitimacy and aped the rituals of the state in their own
expressions of power. The rebels' elevation of a succession of leaders in the hippodrome of
Carthage in 536, for example, has been interpreted persuasively as a conscious emulation of
existing impeήal ceremonies, and thus plausibly hint at the degree to which even dissonant
military identities found expression in familiar forms. 28 Similarly, Gunthaήs made a particular
eflΌrt to govern through the existing military, civilian and religious infrastructure duήng his
own short-lived usurpation, and his attempts to marry into the impeήal family through
Praeiectia, the widow of the deposed Areobindus and the niece of Justinian, may betray his
29
ultimate search for legitimacy. But elsewhere the pattern is less clear. The rebel Stotzas, who
led the revolt of 536, is referred to as tyrannus in the sources, and this may reflect the view that
he claimed impeήal authoήty, but his aspirations may have been more local. 30 Procopius notes
that Stotzas marήed a Mooήsh woman and hence sought royal status in Mauretania. 31 This is a
reminder too of the complex nature of relations between military and barbarian in this
peήod-a point to which we will return shortly.
The distinction between military loyalties οη the ground and the wider impeήal project has
important implications for our understanding of early Byzantine Afi-ica, not least through its
most familiar mateήal traces. Military architecture was central to the expression of impeήal
power in Afήca from the outset and remains focal in many modern studies of the region. 32 Ιη
the sixth book of his Buildings, Procopius provides the reader with a detailed-if apparently
somewhat uneven-survey of the impeήal building work in the region, and places particular
emphasis οη military constructions, along with churches and urban water supply.33 Here and in
the Wars, the supposed Vandal destruction of Afi-ican city walls exemplify the barbarians' in
difference to urban life, where the restorations undertaken by Justinian herald a return to
Mediterranean civic normality.34 While modern archaeologists have ήghdy questioned whether
the buildings listed by Procopius were all recent constructions, or whether the impressive
standing remains which still mark the Tunisian and Algeήan landscape were erected in the first
frenzied years of the occupation, rather than over the course of the later sixth and early seventh
centuήes, the close conceptual correspondence between military architecture and impeήal
power seems clear enough.35 New city walls changed the profιle and urban functioning of
Afi-ican towns, fortifications weaponised the traditional civic architecture of the region, and
dedicatory inscήptions and the renaming of cities after the impeήal family emphatically asserted
the presence of the new impeήal power.36
Υet when we remember the fissiparous loyalty of the Afi-ican gaπison in this peήod, this
bold message takes οη a rather different tone. We might consider, for example, the hastily
constructed walls at a fort at Gadiaufala (Ksar Sbahi), οη the road between Carthage and
Constantina in northern Numidia.37 Α Latin inscήption, which survives in two fragments,
reveals that the wall circuit was constructed duήng the second prefecture of Solomon,
(539-44), and dedicates the construction to Justinian and Theodora in more or less formulaic
terms. 38 Significantly, Gadiaufala was the site of an important episode in the early stages of the
Stotzas revolt, when in the Summer of 536, the Dux Numidiae Marcellus confronted the rebel
army, only to see his troops desert and join the revolt. Marcellus and his officer corps were then
put to death, in a moment of particular cήsis for impeήal rule.39 The inscήption certainly
testifies that the region was back under impeήal control by the early 540s, but the revolt had not
yet been suppressed entirely across Afήca. Viewed in these terms, the walls of Gadiaufala, and
185
Andy Merrills
the inscription that dedicated them to Solomon, Justinian, and Theodora, can be regarded as a
dramatic assertion of impeήal authoήty over the soldiery of the region. This is particularly
pertinent if we recognise that the troops themselves are likely to have taken a significant role in
the construction of these walls. The labour of the troops thus became a physical monument to
their loyalty.40 Other Afήcan fortifications fit less neatly into the precise geography of the
military revolts, but the point is ηο less relevant there: when Justinian and Solomon fortified
Afήca to assert their power, their message carήed not only to the town-dwellers protected by
the walls, or the barbaήans supposedly kept out by them, but perhaps most directly to the
soldiers responsible for their defence. The first decades of Byzantine rule in Afήca can some
times look like the imposition of military impeήalism from without, but it would be a mistake
to assume that all of the agents within this process necessaήly shared the same assumptions or
identities.
The Vandals After 534

The impeήal occupation ofNorth Afi-ica in 533-4, and the collapse ofHasding political power
shattered the carefully balanced "Vandal" identity that had developed over the course of the
preceding century. Duήng happier times, to be a "Vandal" was to be an individual of political
and social standing within a successful kingdom, to hold certain hereditary lands, without the
obligation of paying tax and perhaps to perform political or rnilitary service to the king.41
Certain signifiers helped to underscore this distinction: a Vandal might dress in a certain way,
speak a Vandalic dialect of Gothic (at least in certain situations), bear a Germanic name, and
fondly imagine an ancestry in the distant north (whether or not this was true).42 The Hasding
royal family were members of the Homoian or 'Άrian" church, and Vandal identity was
broadly associated with this branch of Chήstianity as a result.43 None of these markers was
absolutely definitive: we hear of Roman-Afi-icans who wore " barbaήan" clothes or who
converted to Aήanism, and Vandals who were martyred for their Nicene faith.44 As several
recent studies have shown, moreover, these markers of ethnic belonging changed substantially
over the three or four generations ofVandal settlement in Mήca. But it was the sudden collapse
of Hasding political and social power in 533-4 which most changed what it was to be a
"Vandal." Where once "Vandalness" signified participation within a successful ruling caste,
which distinguished itself by vaήous means from the subject Romano-Afi-ican population, by
the later 530s this had changed utterly.
Most modern discussions of the Vandals draw to a close in Spring 534 with the final sur
render of their king Gelimer. Procopius states that all of the Vandals were rounded up along
with their king, and shipped to Constantinople, before being organised into new cavalry units
and settled permanently οη the eastern frontier.45 The histoήan goes οη to note that 400 of
these soldiers escaped, and made their way back to North Afήca, where they joined Stotzas in
his revolt against the empire, but these revenants cannot have been the only Vandals who
remained in the region.46 While the bulk of the Vandal army were deported in 534, Procopius
also testifies that their wives and children remained behind, along with cleήcs of their church, as
shall be discussed below. Equally importantly, a handful of individuals beaήng Vandalic names
are known from Afi-ica after 535, in both the literary sources and the epigraphic corpus.
Coήppus's Iohannis refers to an armiger called Aήarith, and duces named Fronimuth and Geisiήth
who fought alongside John Troglita in the campaign of 546, and who may well have been
among the Afήcan recruits within his army.47 Α woman with the Vandalic name Guitifήda is
commemorated in a late sixth-century inscήption from Ammaedara, and a man named
Guntaήth was among the 17 cives responsible for the construction of a castrum at Ain el-Ksar, in
186
Numidia in 578-580. 48 While none of these names provides definitive proof of a Vandal
identity, of course, and all may have lost some of their cultural resonance in the generation or so
since the collapse of the Hasding kingdom, the presence of individuals with plausibly Vandalic
names in the later-sixth century may perhaps indicate that the former ruling class was not
completely forgotten. The same might be said of hybήd Germanic-Greek and even Germanic
Berber names known elsewhere in the prosopography of Byzantine Mήca. 49
Regardless of the fate of specific individuals, the significance of the Vandal ethnonym itself
changed substantially in the early decades of the occupation. After 534, the term "Vandal" was
deployed chiefly as a means of denigrating opponents of impeήal military or religious policy,
through association with the defeated kingdom. Ιη fact, the impeήal perspective οη Vandal
identity changed significantly as the struggle for Afi-ica went οη. At the outset of the expedition,
Justinian's pήncipal ambition seems to have been to restore a sympathetic figurehead οη the
50
Hasding throne, rather than the formal annexation of Afήca for military or economic reasons.
Procopius reproduces an exchange of letters between the emperor and the usurper Gelimer, in
which Justinian defers extravagantly to the legacy of the great king Geiseήc, and tacitly re
cognises the Vandal ruler as basileus (presumably a translation of the less exalted title rex). 51 The
niceties of the Vandal law of succession seem to have been the subject of some scrutiny in
Constantinople at this stage, which itself testifies to a certain respect for the institutions of the
ruling group. 52 Shortly after the first landing, moreover, Belisaήus sought to contact the Vandal
grandees with a similar message-that his war was not against the Vandals as a people, but
against an individual who had unlawfully seized authoήty for himself 53 With the failure of
these overtures, however, and the successive impeήal victoήes in October and December 533,
this rhetoric shifted dramatically, and the Vandals were rapidly re-cast as the defeated subjects of
a gloήous emperor. Within days of the victory at Tήcamarum, Justinian was including Alanicus
and Vandalicus among his cσgnomina, titles which he was to retain until his death. 5 4 By late
Spήng 534, Gelimer and his defeated followers were then included within a spectacular tri
umphal procession through Constantinople, a recasting of the group as an abject population
which was probably preceded by a smaller ceremony within Carthage, and which was certainly
repήsed in reduced form in Belisaήus's own consular processions at the beginning and end of
535. 55 The defeat of the Vandals was celebrated in the mosaics and statuary of Constantinople
and commemorated even onJustinian's funeral pall. 5 6 Through all of these representations, the
transformation of the Vandals from fearsome barbaήan group into a symbol of abject defeat was
secured.
"Vandal" identity was also reframed in specific ways, both to underscore certain aspects of
the impeήal programme in Mήca, and to help distance the newly subject Afi-ican population
from this uncomfortable recent past. This was most obvious in the religious sphere, where a
consistent identification of the Arians or Homoians as "Vandal" (and the Vandals as 'Άήaη"),
allowed an increasingly confident impeήal state to frame its occupation as a tήumph for or
thodoxy. 57 Ιη the years after the occupation, stoήes circulated that Justinian had been en
couraged in his expedition by the visions of Laetus of Nepta, a victim of the Vandal
persecutions, and the emperor made explicit reference to his Mήcan conquests as evidence of
divine favour. 58 Conspicuously, Justinian's earliest religious policies in North Afi-ica were re
latively cautious, tolerated some continuity of Homoian worship, and actively encouraged
conversion of the Arian episcopate. Ιη the face of pressure from the Afήcan Nicenes, however,
this position rapidly hardened, and by the Summer of 535 Justinian was demanding the res
titution of all church lands to his preferred sect, and outlawed Αήaη (as well as Donatist and
Jewish) worship. 59 When these prohibitions helped provoke the military ήsing ofEaster 536, as
we have seen, it is conspicuous that the pήests of the Vandals were identified as particular
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Andy Merrills
instigators of this revolt.60 Ιη this context it is also noteworthy that several of the church
foundations of the early Byzantine peήod seem to have been dedicated to victims of the Vandal
persecutions of the fifth century-a further distancing of the contemporary impeήal state from
the recent (and heretical) past.61
This rhetoήc of religious denigration by association with the defeated Vandals was not
restήcted to the impeήal authoήties. At some point in the 550s, the schσlasticus Mocianus was
sent back fi-om Constantinople to his native Mήca to defend Justinian's policy οη the Three
Chapters. Ιη refuting this spokesman, Facundus of Herrniane specifically damned him for
having converted to Arianism, "duήng the rule of the Vandals," an effective redeployment of
62
impeήal rhetoήc against the interests of the capital. Α more complex response is evident from
Ammaedara (Haϊdra), οη the border of Byzacena and Proconsulaήs, where the funerary in
scήption of Bishop Victoήnus also testifies to the shifting cultural landscape. Victoήnus seems
to have been inteπed in a privileged position in the pήncipal basilical church of the city, in the
last years of the Vandal kingdom.63 This church was renovated after the Byzantine occupation,
as one stage of a massive rebuilding programme, and at this time a second epigrapher added the
identifier Vandalorum" to the bottom of the inscήption, thus apparently identifying the de
ceased as an Αήaη. The fact that Victoήnus was damned by identification as the "[bishop] of the
Vandals," rather than as a Vandal himself is perhaps significant and underscores that the con
demnation was articulated along sectaήan rather than ethnic lines. Υet it is also noteworthy that
Victoήnus's tomb remained prorninent in the church even after this rebuilding. Evidently, he
retained some of his posthumous local standing even after his epitaph had been "vandalised."
This rapid reformulation of "Vandal" identity also had resonances in the rnilitary history of
the Byzantine province, where rebellions within the army of occupation were damned by
association with the defeated group. As we have seen, there is good reason to think that in
dividuals of Vandal background (or at least soldiers bearing Vandalic names) fought within the
impeήal forces in Νorth Mήca during the 540s. Υet the ethnonym itself was largely reserved to
condemn troops in revolt. Procopius's account of Stotzas's rebellion from 536, is particularly
associated with the Vandals. Α rnilitary rebel, leading worshippers of the "Vandal" religion,
stiπed into action by the wives and priests of the Vandals, and reinforced by escaped Vandal
soldiers at key moments, Stotzas is never explicitly descήbed as a Vandal himself by Procopius
(and with good reason), but the episode does illustrate the degree to which the identity had
come to be associated with different forms of rnilitary resistance (and failure) in the region.
Equally remarkable is the case of Gunthaήs, who was in Solomon's inner circle in 540, and is
unlikely to have been of Vandal background himself ( despite his Germanic name). 64 Υet two
later Italian sources, the Liber Pσntificalis and Paul the Deacon's Histσria Rσmana, identify the
rebel as Gundaήt or Guintaήt and imply a connection to the Vandals, albeit in somewhat
garbled form.65 As a result, some modern surveys of the peήod have identified Gunthaήs as the
last of the Vandal rulers.66 While this interpretation is questionable οη traditional historical
grounds-Gunthaήs had ηο clear connection to the Hasding kings or their followers-it does
illustrate the surpήsing afterlife of the Vandal ethnonym in the early Byzantine peήod.
The change to Vandal identity in the years following the collapse of the Hasding Κingdom
was startling. Α proud symbol of political and social standing at the start of the 530s, coloured in
equal parts with military swagger, a glamorous fήsson of northern exoticism, and the borrowed
cultural capital of one the last great bastions of Latin learning, by the end of that decade Vandal
identity was associated with little more than heresy and rebellion, a term of opprobrium
wielded by its enernies. The rapid demonization of the Vandal name certainly helped justify the
impeήal presence in Afi-ica, as the reasons for this intervention were systematically reinvented,
but also proved a helpful catalyst for the integration of Romano-Mήcans into the impeήal
188
world.The creation of a caήcature of a defeated barbaήan other allowed the Afήcan subjects of
the emperor to distance themselves from an uncomfortable past, and to reconcile themselves to
a new reality. Histoήans have sometimes wondered how the Vandals disappeared so quickly
from the stage of history after 534. Some were deported, some doubdess fought a valiant rear
guard against imperial power in the mountains (or churches) of Afήca, but many may simply
have searched for new modes of belonging in the changed world.
The Moors and Byzantine Africa

Justinian's legislation confidendy proclaimed that the whole of Roman North Afuca would
soon be brought under the impeήal sway. Tήumphal displays and panegyήcs presented the
whole of Afήca as subservient, and the laws of the peήod anticipate that the old Roman
67
frontiers would be the only limits of the new province. Ιη truth, even after the most ambitious
campaigns ofSolomon in 539-40 andJohn Troglita in 546-8, direct impeήal rule was limited
to Zeugitania, northern and central Byzacena and Numidia, and the eastern plains of
MauretaniaSitifiensis.68Small coastal pockets ofTήpolitania and Mauretania Caesaήensis were
also ruled from Carthage, but large sections of the old provincial terήtoήes remained beyond
the impeήal frontiers, as Procopius recognised.69 Other populated regions, including the Libyan
valleys and pre-desert, the Algeήan High Plateaux and the mountainous terήtoήes of the wider
Atlas range, had always existed outside Roman control, or were only ever nominally subject to
impeήal authoήty.70This was an enormously diverse region, in human as well as physical terms.
Ιη the terήtoήes inland of Lepcis Magna, sedentary communities and seasonal pastoralists were
bound together in loose confederations, which were sporadically reinvigorated by new groups
moving in from the desert.71 Α thousand miles to the west, in the furthest reaches of
Mauretania, local communities clustered around nucleated estate centres, or retained many of
the trappings of provincial civilization, living in Roman towns, worshipping in churches, and
continuing to commemorate their dead with well-made Latin epitaphs.72There is every reason
to think that the societies of "Mooήsh" Afuca in the fifth, sixth, and seventh centuήes were
every bit as diverse as those of Europe in the same peήod, but the sources available to us to
study this world leave a great deal to be desired.
The difficulties we face when attempting to understand these populations begin with the
vocabulary used to describe them. Contemporary scholarship has conventionally refeπed to the
inhabitants of the early medieval Maghήb collectively as "Berbers" or "Moors." 73 Such lan
guage has the virtue of simplicity but runs the ήsk of conflating societies that may be widely
separated in space or time, and which had little in common with one another.The inhabitants
of an estate centre in northern Numidia during the early-sixth century, for example, are un
likely to have found much common ground with the seasonal pastoralists of the Tήpolitanian
frontier regions in the same peήod and would certainly not have seen themselves as part of a
shared "Mooήsh" identity. Many of these groups may well have spoken different forms of
Berber languages, (or at least to have used these languages alongside Latin and late Punic
dialects), but this should not be taken as an indication of shared ethnicity, any more than the use
of Germanic dialects in early medieval Europe.74
Ιη many ways, our early Byzantine sources faced exactly the same problems when they
sought to make sense of the world beyond (and even within) the impeήal fi-ontiers. For
Procopius, the barbaήc inhabitants of Afήca could generally be grouped together under the
catch-all term "Maurousioi." This geneήc term deήved from Mauri, a name previously asso
ciated with the westerly regions of Mediterranean Afήca, but which was increasingly used to
refer to barbaήans across the region fi-om the fourth century, and became widespread by the
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Andy Merrills
fifth.75 Ιη Procopius's view, this group was principally defined by being neither "Roman" nor
"Vandal," a point that is illustrated particularly clearly in his famous contrast between the
indolent and morally corrupt Vandals (who had succumbed easily to the impeήal invasion), and
the Moors (who continued to resist):
For of all the nations we know, the Vandals happen to be the most luxuήous, and the
Moors the most hardy. Since they gained possession of Libya, the Vandals began to
indulge in baths, all of them, every day, and enjoyed a table loaded with all foods, the
sweetest and best the earth and sea could produce. ... But the Moors live in stuffy
huts, in winter, summer, and every other time, never leaving them because of the
snow or the heat of the sun or any other discomfort due to nature. They sleep οη the
ground, with the prosperous among them, if it should so happen, spreading a fleece
under themselves. Moreover, it is not customary among them to change clothing with
the season, but they wear a thick coat and a rough shirt at all times. They have neither
bread nor wine, nor any good thing, but they take grain, either wheat or barley, and,
without boiling it or grinding it into flour or barley-meal, they eat it in a manner not
at all different from the animals.76
Ιη spite of this caήcature, Procopius was well aware that the Afiican Maurσusiσi were not simply
an undifferentiated mass, little distinguished fi-om the animals. Ιη the naπative of the Wars, we
read of Mooήsh leaders who were quite well integrated into the wider diplomatic networks of
the Mediteπanean world, who served in the Byzantine administration, communicated with the
impeήal capital, and oversaw the restoration of churches.77 He descήbes individual rulers
plotting against one another, and against the Byzantine and Vandal states, often in quite diz
zying permutations, and provides a complex-if not always easily comprehensible--image of
the vicissitudes of frontier politics.78 Yet Procopius exhibits little interest in the workings of
Mooήsh society beyond this. Conspicuously, he almost never identifies specific groups among
the Maurσusiσi: the only local name he acknowledges is that of the Lawathae, a confederation of
groups in the Tήpolitanian pre-desert, who fought against the empire in the mid-540s and who
coπespond to the Ilaguas or Laguatan identified by Coήppus (and perhaps to the Austuήani of
our fourth-century sources).79 This may imply a distinction in Procopius's mind between the
barbarians of the region around Lepcis and those found further north and west, and hence
deeper divisions between the populations of these regions, but for the most part Procopius
seems to have been little concerned with indigenous population groups as groups. Ιη this sense,
his treatment of Afήcan barbaήans was little different from his view of similar barbaήans
elsewhere in the world.80 This seems to have been common in early imperial discourse
in Afήca: Chronicle sources ofJustinian's reign similarly refer to the Mauri without distinction,
and legislation does the same.81 This is a significant contrast with earlier impeήal practice,
where a greater vaήety of tήbal names are deployed in the epigraphy and the literary sources
alike.
Almost the opposite is the case in the wήting of the North Afiican poet Coήppus, whose
epic Iσhannis (fl. circa 551) viewed Byzantine victories over the Moors in the later 540s through
the pήsm of Virgilian tradition.82 Coήppus refers to the antagonists of his poem as Mauri and
barbari, and also deploys a range of archaizing terms including Nasamσnes, Musulames, and
Gaetuli, which he certainly used in emulation of earlier poets.83 Elsewhere, however, Coήppus
was much more precise in his use of language and went to some effort to include an array of
authentic local names in his poem, even when these strained the limits of classical Latin metre.84
Many of the peoples that he identifies are otherwise unknown to us but plausibly correspond to
190
what we otherwise know of North Afi-ican onomastics in this peήod (Silcadinet, Silvaian,
Silzactae).85 Others are sufficiently similar to names known from later Roman sources to
suggest that Coήppus drew his mateήal from a trustworthy source, and was not simply in
venting exotic-sounding names. This impression is supported by the inclusion of a handful of
exotic local words in the poem, which do plausibly coπespond to contemporary proto-Berber
dialects.86 Οη occasion, Corippus even hints at the changing constituency of individual groups,
noting for example that the Frexes of his principal antagonist Antalas were a humilis gens
(humble people) at the time of their leader's birth, but subsequently rose to greater prominence
under his guidance.87 Coήppus's account was certainly shaped profoundly by the poetic tra
dition within which he worked, as well as by the assumptions of the new Byzantine power:
there is good reason to think, for example, that some of the longest ethnographic passages in his
epic were a deliberate poetic recasting of the tήumphal procession which marked the end of the
88
impeήal campaign. Ιη any case, Coήppus's poem reveals another means by which lmpeήal
power could impose order οη the mysteήous world to the south and west-by minute clas
sification, as well as by sweeping generalization.
Further illumination is provided by a handful of exemplary inscήptions which testify to the
emergence of a new political elite in the western provinces ofNorth Afi-ica duήng the early sixth
century, but here again the language of identity is surpήsingly vaήed. The inscήption of Masuna
"king of the Mooήsh and Roman peoples' fi-om Altava in 508 does not specify the king's identity
more closely than that, either to accentuate his power or to stress his political position between
the empire and the world beyond. 89 The sixth-century epitaph of Masties fi-om the Aures
mountains is similar, and places particular emphasis οη his position as a broker between Moors
and Romans.90 Α more precise example is that of the anonymous Rex of the "Ucutumani,"
found in northern Numidia, which may also date to the early Byzantine peήod.91 Although
modern scholarship has often connected these scattered texts to seemingly coπoborative accounts
in Procopius and Coήppus, and cited them as evidence for well-defined sub-Roman kingdoms
across the old fi-ontier, this case is far fi-om clear.92 Such inscήptions are merely late examples of
well-established patterns of regional aήstocratic display across Mauretania and Numidia, and need
not betray a conceptual break with old impeήal (or provincial) identities.93
Puzzling as this mateήal is, Procopius, Coήppus, and other scattered literary and epigraphic
sources still compήse a corpus of textual evidence for the study of Moorish or Berber society in
the 530s and 540s that is unήvalled for the early medieval (or indeed classical) peήod. These
texts represent a unique resource for the understanding of local Afήcan societies. Ιη reading
them, however, we need to appreciate not only their impeήal chauvinisms but also the degree
to which they were descήbing a world that was in a state of upheaval, not least because of the
impeήal presence itself The sudden arήval of Byzantine authoήty in Carthage, and the rapid
recalibration of local networks of power caused by the imposition of new modes of provincial
government and military systems, had important implications for the landlords, warlords, lea
ders, and kin-groups who had enjoyed some autonomy under Vandal rule. Modern histoήcal
anthropology has recognised the important role of modern empires in creating or catalysing
"tήbal" societies οη their peήpheήes, even as they produced the ethnographic apparatus to
identify and record these groups.94 There is very good reason to think that similar processes
were at work in sixth-century Afήca. While there is a temptation to view the accounts of
Procopius and Coήppus as evidence for the persistence of timeless patterns of North Afήcan
tήbal identities, particularly when group names from the sixth century may be identified with
earlier (or later) histoήcal sources, this should be resisted. The very fact that our two pήncipal
authors made sense of the societies in this changing world in such different ways cautions
against reading either of these texts uncήtically.
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Andy Merrills
While Procopius and Coήppus certainly provide simplified images of Mooήsh society, it is
still an exaggeration to suggest that theirs was an "ideological iron curtain," in which the worlds
of the barbaήan Moor and civilised Roman were essentially inseparable.95 Both authors were
aware of degrees of otherness within the penumbra of impeήal rule and charted the barbaήsm
of individuals and groups living in the region appropήately. Habitation in towns seems to have
been the pήncipal point of distinction, and one which is likely to have been shared by the
town-dwellers themselves: more than one commemorative inscήption of this peήod celebrates
the role of town walls in separating citizens from the Mauri beyond.96 Υet even beyond the
walls, distinct degrees of separation were apparent. Chήstianity and political loyalty to the
empire seem to have been the pήncipal axes οη which Mooήsh barbarism was plotted, and this
was coloured through reference to exotic speech, dress, and social behaviours. Procopius, for
example, refers to federate Mooήsh leaders who swore loyalty to the empire and in return
received tokens of office that were essentially similar to those sported by sub-kings across the
Mediteπanean world.97 Coήppus, similarly, evokes the loyal dux Cusina as a Roman com
mander in dress, faith, and sensibility, contrasting him with the "feathered" (pinnatus) orna
ments of hostile barbaήans, who broke their oaths and worshipped the god Gurzil.98 At their
most extreme, both wήters descήbe the Moors in caήcatured terms, but both also gesture to the
social and political complexity of the world that they descήbe.
None of this can tel1 us how the majoήty of Afήcan groups conceptualised their own
identity in this peήod. Scholars have attempted to redress this gap through more detailed
scrutiny of the fragmented evidence, as well as to histoήcal and anthropological comparanda,
with often rewarding results. This ήch scholarship has done a great deal to illuminate the
extraordinaήly diverse ways in which identities may have been formulated in "Mooήsh" Mήca.
Indeed, it perhaps demonstrates above all the futility of attempting to impose single inter
pretative models onto this vast and vaήed landscape. Where our imperfect textual and ar
chaeological sources do allow local societies to come into focus, they are often very different
from one another: we should perhaps appreciate the isolated puzzle pieces in their own ήght,
rather than attempt to extrapolate a complete picture fi-om them. Chήstine Hamdoune, for
example, has highlighted the degree to which fortified estate centres formed nuclei of many
local societies in the Mauretanian provinces, often operating οη a much smaller level than the
kingdoms beloved of earlier scholarship.99 Closer to the Byzantine territories in the east,
military service may have offered an alternative route for the emergence of new collectivities: as
groups served together as federates of the empire, new bonds of community would have been
forged. 100 Religion may also have offered a medium for social cohesion, but again this was
vaήed. Hamdoune's study has illuminated a profusion of rural bishopήcs in Mauretania, which
testify to the emergence of distinct Chήstian identities, even in the face of some opposition
from the church in Carthage or Rome.101 Beyond the old frontiers, however, Chήstianity
could polaήse in different ways, with both conversion and resistance offeήng contrasting points
of identity in the face of social and cultural change.102
Conclusions
Issues of identity were politically and culturally vital in early Byzantine North Mήca, even if the
nature of our source mateήal only allows us glimpses of their operation οη the ground.
Justinian's representatives were acutely aware of the differences in "Roman" identity as it was
understood in Constantinople and in Carthage. The ideology that underpinned the occupation
emphasised points of connection, both by appealing to a shared cultural rnilieu-of laws,
language, religion, or the familiar public buildings of Mediteπanean towns-and also through
192
the language of exclusion. References to "Vandals" and "Moors" in early Byzantine sources
may not tel1 us very much about the reality of life for those who had once followed the Hasding
kings, or who lived beyond the direct rule of the Carthaginian authorities, but they do reveal
the rhetorical power of a new imperial state. But even as the rhetoric of empire demonized
outsiders, the complex social affiliations of those who lived within the state became increasingly
important. Our sources are particularly ήch for the military history of the early years of the
occupation, and it is at once clear that the competing identities of a diverse, polyglot, and multi
ethnic impeήal army could themselves prove crucial to the functioning of the state, particularly
in peήods of poor leadership and low pay. Evidendy, there is much about identity in Byzantine
Afi-ica that we do not know, but the fi-agments that are visible to us reveal a great deal.
Notes
1 Procopius, Wars, 3.16.3-4, 6., trans. Anthony Kaldellis and Η.Β. Dewing, Prokopios: Ίhe Wars rif
Justinian (Indianapolis: Hackett, 2014), 178-9.
2 Denys Pήngle, The Defence rif Byzantine Africa from Justinian to the Arab Conquest (Oxford: BAR,
1981), 18-40 lays out a clear narrative of these campaigns.
3 Philip Wood, "Being Roman in Procopius' Vandal Wars," Byzantion, 81 (2011): 428-32.
4 Aveήl Cameron, "Byzantine Africa: The Literary Evidence," in Excavations at Carthage, VII, ed. J.H.
Humphreys (Αηη Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1982), 29-62; Jonathan Ρ. Conant, Staying
Roman: Conquest and Identity in the Mediterranean 439-700 (Cambήdge: CUP, 2012), 196-251 is a
nuanced recent treatment.
5 Pringle, Defence, and see further the discussion below.
6 Cameron, "Corippus' Iohannis"; Vincent Zaήni, Berberes ou barbares?: recherches sur le livre second de Ια
]ohannide de Corippe (Paris: ADRA, 1997), and the references below.
rif
7 Yves Moderan, "L'Afήque reconquise et les trois chapitres," in The Crisis the Oikoumene, eds. C.M.
Chazelle and C. Cubitt (Turnhout: Brepols, 2007), 39-82 is the best overview.
8 See e.g., Robin Μ. Jensen. "Christianity in Roman Afήca," in The Cambridge History Religions in rif
the Ancient World. Vol ΙΙ. ed. Μ. Salzman (Cambήdge: CUP, 2013), 264-5.
9 Conant, Staying Roman, 306-61 and Leslie Dossey, 'Έxegesis and Dissent in Byzantine North
Africa," in North Africa under Byzantium and Early Islam. eds. S.T. Stevens and J.P. Conant
(Washington DC: DO, 2016), 251-68 are illustrative of this new shift.
rif
10 Jamil Ν. Abun Nasr, Α History the Maghrib (Cambridge: CUP, 1971), 65. Walter Ε. Kaegi, Muslim
Expansion and Byzantine Collapse in North Africa (Cambήdge: CUP, 2010) provides a recent
overvιew.
rif
11 Codex Justinian Ι.27.1-2. Charles Diehl, L Άfrique Byzantine: histoire de lα domination byzantine en
Afrique (Paήs: Ernest Leroux, 1896), 97-137; Salvatore Pulliati, Richerche sulla legislazione 'Ύegionale" di
Giustiniano: Ιο statuto civile e l'ordinamento militare della prefettura Africana (Milan: Universita di Bologna,
1980); Pringle, Defence, 55-65 for overviews.
12 Some implications of this are explored in Robin Whelan, 'Άη Ascetic State? Fashioning Chήstian
Political Service Across the Early Sixth-Century Mediterranean," Studies in Late Antiquity 2.3 (2018):
385-418 (through the correspondence of the Afήcan churchman Ferrandus and the dux Reginus).
13 John of Biclar, Chronicle in Kenneth Baxter Wolf, ed. and trans. Conquerors and Chroniclers Early rif
Medieval Spain, ΤΤΗ (Liverpool: LUP, 1990), a.569 refers to Theoctistus as magister militum provinciae
Africae. Cf. Constantin Zuckerman, 'Ήaute hierarchie militaire en Afrique Byzantine," Antiquite
tardive 6 (2002): 169-71.
14 Full discussion and references in John R. Martindale, The Prosopography of the Later Roman Empire,
Volume ΠΙ. AD 527-641, Β (Cambridge: CUP, 1992), 1124-8, 1167-77.
15 Walter Ε. Kaegi, 'Άήanism and the Byzantine Army in Africa 533-546," Traditio 21 (1965): 23-53;
Walter Ε. Kaegi, Byzantine Military Unrest 471-843 (Amsterdam: Hakkert, 1981) 47-52; Procopius,
Wars, 4.14.7-17.35; 23.1-24.16; Coήppus, Iohannis, eds. J. Diggle and F.R.D. Goodyear
(Cambήdge: CUP, 1970), 3.305-17; 4.8-218; Marcellinus Comes, Chronicle (anonymous con
tinuation), trans. Βήaη Croke, The Chronicle of Marcellinus (Melbourne: AABS, 1995), a.537, 543,
545; Agathias, Histories, l. Prol. 25; Victor of Tunnuna, Chronicle, ed. Α. Placanica (Florence: Sismel,
193
Andy Merrills
1997), a.541, 543, 545. Procopius, Wars, 4.16.3 states that 2/3 of the Afήcan aπny were ίη revolt.
Οη the approximate size of the garrison as a whole, see Warren Treadgold, Byzantium and its Army
284-1081 (Stanford: SUP, 1995), 59-61.
16 Procopius, Wars, 4.25.1, 28.41; Agathias, Histories, 1. Prol. 25; Victor ofTunnuna, Chronicle, a.546;
Jordanes, Romana, ed. Τ. Mommsen, MGH, ΑΑ.5.1 (Munich: Weidmann, 1882), 384; Marcellinus
Comes, Chronicle (anon. cont.), a.546.
17 Procopius, Wars, 4.27.5-6.
18 Procopius, Wars, 4.18.2-9 οη the plot of Maximinus ίη 538. Οη internal disputes within the army cf.
Wars, 4.22.1-4 and Coήppus, Iohannis, 3.88-102.
19 Victor of Tunnuna, (who was himself directly involved ίη the Three Chapters dispute), is the only
chronicler to discuss religious controversies ίη Byzantine Afήca.
20 Averil Cameron, "Gelimer's Laughter: The case of Byzantine Afήca," ίη Tradition and Innovation in
Late Antiquity eds. F.M. Clover and R.S. Humphreys (Madison: UWP, 1989), 173; Jean-Maήe
Lassere, Africa, quasi Roma (Paήs: CNRS, 2015), 695; Pringle, Defence, 68-70.
21 a
Peter Riedlberger, "Recherches onomastiques relatives la composition ethnique du personnel
militaire en Afήque byzantine (546-548)," ίη Commutatio et contentio. Studies in the Late Roman,
Sasanian, and Early Islamic Near East, eds. Η. Βοπη andJ. Wiesehofer (Dίisseldorf: Wellem, 2010),
253-71. David Alan Parnell, Justinian's Men. Careers and Relationships of Byzantine Army Officers
(London: Palgrave, 2017), esp. 103-30 assesses the comparable evidence from Italy.
22 Conant, Staying Roman, 20(}-11.
23 Procopius, Wars, 4.1.9-11 and 2.3 stresses the problematic loyalty of Hunnic federates to the impeήal
project ίη Africa. Mooήsh recruits ίη the Italian aπny: Wars, 5.5.4, 5.25.9, 6.23.36-9, 7.18.26-8.
24 Chήstoph Eger, "Byzantine Dress Accessoήes ίη North Africa: Koine and Regionality," ίη Intelligible
Beauty: Recent Research on Byzantine ]ewellery, eds. C. Entwistle and Ν. Adams (London: Bήtish
Museum, 2010), 133-45, οη the military dress ίη Byzantine Africa and similaήties with other
Mediterranean regions. Procopius, Wars, 8.30.17-18 succinctly expresses anxieties about the similar
diversity of the Byzantine aπny ίη Italy.
25 Kaegi, 'Άrianism."
27 Treadgold, Byzantium and its Army, 203-4. Pay and plunder are explicitly identified as causes of
discontent ίη Procopius, Wars, 4.1.10-11; 4.14.10; 4.15.33, 55; 4.18.9; 4.19.9; Secret History 18.11.
And the provision of back-pay stifles revolt at Wars 4.14.40; 4.15.11; 4.16.5. Cf also references to
similar problems ίη Italy: Wars 7.6.6-7; 7.11.13-6; 7.36.7-26; 8.26.5-6.
28 Procopius, Wars, 4.14.3-35; 4.18.8-11. Οη which see Peter van Nuffelen, "The Late Antique State
and 'Mirror Rituals': Procopius of Caesarea οη Rebellions ίη Africa," ίη Continuity and Change.
Studies in Late Antique Historiography, eds. D. Brodka and Μ. Stachura (Krakow: Archeobooks,
2007), 61-72.
29 Procopius, Wars, 4.27.20-22. Artabanes then attempted to marry Praeiecta himself and was stopped
by Theodora when news of a previous marήage emerged: Wars, 7.31.2-11.
30 Procopius, Wars, 3.11.30; 4.15.1; Agathias, Histories, 1. Prol. 25; Victor ofTunnuna, Chronicle, a.541,
543, 545; Jordanes, Romana, 384.
31 Procopius, Wars,4.17.35.
32 Pringle, Defence, and Jean Durliat, Les dedicaces dΌuvrages de difense dans lΆfrique byzantine (Rome:
Ecole franς:aise de Rome, 1981) are fundamental. Franς:ois Baratte and Fathi Bejaoui, "Les for
tifications byzantines d'Ammaedara," Comptes rendus des seances de lΆcademie des Inscriptions et Belles
Lettres 154.1 (2010): 513-38 is a more recent study with specific focus οη Ammaedara (Haϊdra).
33 Procopius, Buildings, 6. Compare also Evagήus, Ecclesiastical History, 4.18.
34 Procopius, Wars, 3.5.8; 3.15.9. Οη the ideology ofJustinian's building programme, see esp. Pήngle,
Defence, 109-20 and Anna Leone, Changing Townscapes in North Africafrom Late Antiquity to the Arab
Conquest (Bari: Edipuglia, 2007), 187-220. Οη its strategic function, compare Diehl, LΆfrique
Byzantine, 138-225; Pringle, Defence, 55-60; Durliat, Les dedicaces, 93-112. Οη the importance of
walls as defining features of towns ίη this peήod, see esp. Ine Jacobs, Aesthetic Maintenance of Civic
Space: The 'Classical' City from the 4th to the 7th C. AD (Leuven: Peeters, 2013), 92-109.
35 Richard Miles and Simon Greenslade, Ίhe Bir Messaouda Basilica: Pi/grimage and Transformation of an
Urban Landscape in Sixth Century Carthage (Philadelphia: Oxbow, 2020), 9-24.
36 Changes to urban life: Baratte and Bejaoui, "Les fortifications." Οη renaming (which included
Carthage and Hadrumetum among several other cities), see Lassere, Africa, quasi Roma, 719.
194
37 Pringle, Defence, 198; Durliat, Les dedicaces, 44-45.

38 CIL VIII 4799. Reproduced at Durliat, Les dedicaces, 45.
40 DieW, L Άfrique Byzantine, 172, follows Capitaine Moll, "Memoire historique et archeologique sur
Tebessa T ( heveste) et ses environs," in Annuaire de Ια societe archeologique de Ια province de Constantine
(1860-1861), 208-10, in his estimate that the defenses ofTheveste alone would have taken 800-850
workers some two years to complete, and which must have involved locals (and slaves) as well as the
military. This may explain the extensive spoliation and use of standing structures within the for
tifications across Africa. The fiscal implications are discussed by Durliat, Les dedicaces, 100-8.
41 Compare Roland Steinacher,"Gruppen und Identitaten. Gedanken zur Bezeichnung 'vandalisch',"
in Das Reich der Vandalen und seine (Vor-) Geschichten, eds. G.M. Berndt and R. Steinacher (Vienna:
OEAW, 2008), 243--60; Andy Merήlls and Richard Miles, The Vandals (Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell,
2010), 83-108; Conant, Staying Roman, 19-66; Konrad, Vossing, Das Konigreich der Vandalen
(Darmstadt: von Zabern, 2014), 96-108.
42 Οη dress see esp Philipp von Rummel, Habitus Barbarus. Kleidung und Reprdsentation spdtantiker Eliten
im 4 und 5 Jahrhundert (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007); οη language and onomastics Nicoletta Francovich
Onesti, Ι Vandali. Lingua e storia (Rome: Carocci, 2002).
43 Tankred Howe, Vandalen, Barbaren und Arianer bei Victor von Vita (Frankfurt: Verlag-Antike, 2007)
rif
and Robin Whelan, Being Christian in Vandal Africa: Ίhe Politics Orthodoxy in the Post-Imperial West
(Berkeley: California UP, 2017) closely interrogate the association of"Vandal" and 'Άήaη" identity
in our Nicene sources.
44 Howe, Vandalen, 168-77 for discussion.
45 Procopius, Wars, 4.7, 17, 8.3, 9.1 and 14.17.
47 Onesti, Ι Vandali, 148-56, Riedlberger, "Recherches onomastiques," 259-64.
48 α
Guitifrida: Duval and Prevot, Recherches archeologiques Haidra Ι, 151-2; Onesti, Ι Vandali, 161. The
Byzantine date is suggested by the use of indictional dating; Guntaήth: CIL VIII 4354; Durliat, Les
dedicaces, 71-6; Onesti, Ι Vandali, 161.
49 Chiefly Sallusticus Manno a hybήdized name known from an inscription of a.577 from Hamman in
Mauretania Caesaήensis CIL VIII 9746, Onesti, Ι Vandali, 167, Aystheodori and Syphila from a
sixth-century inscription from Lepcis Magna, IRΤ845, Onesti, Ι Vandali, 149, 172; and Swartifan: a
possible Berber/Vandalic hybήd in Coήppus, Iohannis, 5.217, Onesti, Ι Vandali, 174.
50 Meier, Das andere Zeitalter Justinians, 174-80.
51 Louis Brehier, Le monde byzantin ΙΙ (Paris: Albin Michel, 1949), 285.
52 Α.Η. Merrills, "The Secret of My Succession: Dynasty and Cήsis in Vandal North Africa," Early
Medieval Europe 18.2 (2010), 158.
54 Οη the importance of the victory in Afήca to Justinian's ideology, see esp. Mischa Meier, Das andere
Zeitalter Justinians (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2003), 150-65.
55 Procopius, Wars, 4.9.15-16; 5.5.17-18.
56 Mosaics: Procopius, Buildings, 1.10.16; Funerary pall: Coήppus, In Praise ofJustin ΙΙ, ed. and trans.
Aveήl Cameron (London: AtWone, 1976), 1.276-90.
57 Procopius, Wars, 3.2.2--6 identifies Aήanism as a constitutive feature of Vandal identity.
58 Laetus: Procopius, Wars, 3.10.18-21; Victor ofTunnuna, Chronicle, a.534, Conant 2016: 203; Divine
favour: cf. Novels rifjustinian, 1. Pr. Uanuary 535], 8.10.12 [535], 30.11.2 [536], Pr. σaη 535]. Puliatti,
rif
Richerche sulla legislazione, 59-72 discusses the religious elements in Codex Justinian Ι.27.1-2.
59 rif
Novels Justinian, 37. [August 535]
60 Procopius, Wars, 4.14.13.
61 Jonathan Ρ. Conant, "Sanctity and the Networks of Empire in Byzantine North Afήca," in North
Africa under Byzantium and Early Islam, eds. S. Stevens and J. Ρ. Conant (Washington DC: DO,
2016), 203-4.
62 Οη this passage and the scholarship surrounding Mocianus's mission, see esp Moderan, "L'Afrique
reconquise," 52-3.
63 Νoel Duval and Franς:oise Prevot, Recherches archeologiques α Haidra Ι: Les inscriptions chretiennes
(Rome: Ecole Franς:aise, 1975), 88-9; Franς:ois Baratte and Fathi Bejaoui,"La societe ecclesiastique
a
dans les hautes steppes tunisienne la fin de l'antiquite: le temoignage de l'archeologie," Comptes
rendus des seances de l'Academie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres 154.1 (2010), 113.
195
Andy Merrills

rif
65 Lib Pont. Vigilius 1, in Raymond Davis, ed. and trans. The Book Ponti.ffs (Liber Pontificalis), ΤΤΗ
(Liverpool: LUP, 1989): Re[x] Guandalorum; Paul the Deacon, Roman History, ed. Η Droysen,
MGH, SS RG (Berlin: Weidmann, 1878), 16.19: Guintarit ... qui Wandalos rursus sollicitans apud eos
arripuerat regnum. Significandy both also state that Belisarius was responsible for suppressing the ήsing,
which suggests a conflation with the first phase of Stotzas's revolt.
66 Cf. for example Roland Steinacher, Die Vandalen (Stuttgart: Κlett-Cotta, 2016), 326-31.
rif
67 Codex Justinian, Ι.27.2.4, 13.
68 For discussion ofthe extent ofByzantine authority compare Denys and Pringle, "Two Fortified Sites
in Byzantine Afήca: Αϊη Djelloula and Henchir Sguidan," Antiquite Tardive 10 (2002): 269-90 and
Ρο! Trousset, "Les limites sud de la reoccupation Byzantine," Antiquite Tardive 10 (2002): 143-50.
69 Procopius, Wars, 4.13.29; 4.20.3(}-31.
70 Pierre Moήzot, Romains et Berberes face ά face (Arles: Errance, 2015) for an overview.
71 Fabήzio Felici, Massimiliano Munzi and Ignazio Tantillo, 'Άusturiani e Laguatan in Tripolitania,"
L'Africa Romana 16 (2006): 591-688.
72 Andy Merrills, "The Moorish Κingdoms and the Wήtten Word: Three 'Textual Communities' in
Fifth- and Sixth-Century Mauretania," in Writing the Early Medieval West. eds. S.E. Screen and C.
West (Cambridge: CUP, 2017), 185-202 (with references).
73 See for example Yves Moderan, Les Maures et l'Afrique Romaine (Rome: Bibliotheque des Ecole
franι;:aise, 2003) and now Christine Hamdoune, Adfines Africae Romanae: Les mondes tribaux dans les
provinces mauretaniennes (Bordeaux: Ausonius, 2018) and the references therein.
74 Salem Chaker, "Libyque: ecήture et langue," Encyclopedie Berbere 28-9 (2008): 4395-409 provides an
overview. Denis Lengrand, "Langues en Afrique antique," in Identites et culture dans l'Algerie Antique,
ed. Claude Briand-Ponsart (Rouen: Universite de Rouen, 2005), 119-26, sets this in context.
75 Moderan, Les Maures, 445-53; Conant, Staying Roman, 273-5.
76 Procopius, Wars, 4.6.5-6, 10-13, trans. Kaldellis and Dewing, Prokopios: The Wars, 203.
77 Cf., for example, Procopius, Wars, 3.8.21; 4.12.30: 4.22.6-10; 4.27.4-5.
78 Procopius, Wars, 4.13.19; 4.25.15-22.
79 Οη this group, see Felici et al., 'Άustuήani e Laguatan" and Moderan, Les Maures, 121-310.
80 Dariusz Brodka, Die Geschichtsphilosophie in der spiitantiken Historiographie (Frankfurt: Peter Lang,
2004), 135-45 οη Procopius's indifference to the nuances ofbarbarian identities.
81 Marcellinus Comes (anon cont), a.537.3; 543.3; Jordanes, Romana, 385; Novels ofJustinian, 1 Pref.,
30.11.2.
82 The bibliography is growing. See now Thomas Gartner, Untersuchungen zur Gestaltung und zum
historischen Stoff der ]ohannis Coripps (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2008), and Peter Riedlberger, Philologischer,
historischer und liturgischer Kommentar zum 8. Buch der Johannis des Goripp (Leiden: Brill, 2010) and the
references therein.
83 Coήppus, Iohannis, 6.196-201; Riedlberger, Philologischer, 46.
84 Coήppus, Iohannis, 2.26-7.
85 Coήppus, Iohannis, 2.51-3; Moderan, Les Maures, 107-9; Zarini, Berb'eres ou barbares?, 153.
86 Notably the terrn tarua (Coήppus, Iohannis, 5.492 and 7.272-4). Οη which see Carles Mίιrcia,
"Tarua: ein amazighisches Wort in der Iohannis des Corippus," Glotta 82 (2006): 77-91.
87 Coήppus, Iohannis, 3.153. Οη the Frexes see esp Philipp νοη Rummel, "The Frexes: Late Roman
Barbarians in the Shadow of the Vandal Κingdom," in Neglected Barbarians, ed. Florin Curta
(Turnhout: Brepols, 2010), 571-604.
88 Discussed in Andy Merrills, "Corippus' Tήumphal Ethnography: Another Look at Iohannis
ΙΙ.28-161," Libyan Studies 50 (2019): 153-63.
89 Jean Marcillet-Jaubert, Les inscriptions d'Altava (Aix-en-Provence: Ophrys, 1968), 126-7, (ηο. 194):
Masunae Gent[ium Maur[orum] et Romanor[um].
90 Pierre Moήzot, "Pour une nouvelle lecture de !'elogium de Masties," Antiquites ιifricaines 25 (1989):
263-84; Pierre Morizot, "Masties a-t-il ete imperator?," Zeitschriftfiίr Papyrologie und Epigraphik 141
(2002): 231-40; Moderan, Les Maures, 404-7.
91 Hamdoune, Adfines, 338-40.
92 Cffor example the influential (and still important) study ofGabriel Camps, "Rex gentium Maurorum et
Romanorum. Recherches sur les royaumes de Mauretanie des Vle et VIIe siecles," Antiquites africaines
20 (1984): 183-218.
93 Hamdoune, Adfines, 157-70.
196
94 See esp. War in the Tribal Zone: Expanding States and Indigenous Waιfare, 2nd ed., eds. R. Brian
Ferguson and Neil L. Whitehead (Oxford: OUP, 1999), with the discussion ofDavid Mattingly in
the same volume. For a thoughtful application of some of these themes, seeDick Whittaker, 'Έthnic
Discourses οη the Frontier in Roman Afήca," in Ethnic Constructs in Antiquity, eds. S.T.Derks and
Ν. Roymans (Amsterdam: AUP, 2009), 189-205.
95 Quote from Peter Brown, "Concluding Remarks," in North Africa under Byzantium and Early Islam,
eds. S. Stevens and J. Conant (WashingtonDC: DO, 2016), 299.
96 Moderan, Les Maures, 418-21.
97 Procopius, Wars, 3.25.3-8. Οη this passage see Andy Merήlls, "The Men Who Would be Κing"
(forthcoming).
98 Corippus refers to Cusina's Roman heritage at Iohannis, 4.511, 5.451 and 8.271. Compare the re
ference to the "feathered" rulers at Iohannis 5.263-364; 7.419, 510; 8.543 and to the worship of
Gurzil at Iohannis, 3.87-151, 6.149-187. The religious oppositions in the poem are well explored by
Chiara Ο. Tommasi Moreschini, "Persistenze pagane nell'Afήca del VI secolo," in Africa Cristiana.
Storia, religione, letteratura, eds. Μ. Marin and C. Moreschini (Brescia: Morcelliana, 2002), 269-301.
99 Hamdoune, Ad fines.
100 See esp. Whittaker, 'ΈthnicDiscourses"; Hamdoune, Ad fines, 193-200.
101 Hamdoune, Ad fines, 215-63.
102 Compare for example the discussion of Mooήsh paganism in Tommasi Moreschini, "Persistenze
pagane," and the evidence for Christianity at Djorf Torba and Brezina in the northwest Sahara:
Malika Hachid, "Strabon, El-Idrissi, la Guerba et un Libyque plus tardif que les Ve/Vle Siecles?," in
Actes du premier colloque de prέhistoire Maghrebine. ΙΙ (Algiers: CNRPAH, 2011): 191-226, 209-11 and
Υoussef Bokbot, "Tumulus protohistoήques du pre-sahara marocain. Indices de minoήtes re
ligieuses," in Actes du VIIIe Colloque International sur l Ήistoire et lΆrchέologie de lΆfrique du Nord, ed.
Μ. Κhanoussi (Tunis: Institute National du Patήmonie, 2003), 35-45.
197
11
CONTESTED IDENTITIES ΙΝ ΤΗΕ
ΒΥΖΑΝΤΙΝΕ WEST, CIRCA
540-895
Christopher Heath
Empires ήse and fall. Identities shift, merge, and splinter and then re-emerge in new con
structions and iterations. Ιη the same way, identities can combine, disperse, and then re
1
combine with opaque processes that are difficult to identify and pinpoint. Byzantine identity in
the central Mediterranean across 400 years experienced shifts in focus, depth, and claήty. This
creates for us, as observers, difficulties of both identification and explication. Forty years ago or
so Andre Guillou posed a question that summaήses this problem, should we refer to "Italie
meridionale byzantine" (southern Byzantine Italy) he asked or just to "Byzantins" in southern
Italy.2 Ιη this chapter that considers the development, survival, and mutation of identities not
only in peninsular Italy, but throughout that area of the central and western Mediteπanean
which remained to varying degrees associated with theByzantine empire between circa 540 and
circa 895, this conundrum should remain at the centre of our thoughts as we grapple with the
complexities and silences of our sources.
At some point during the visit ofConstans 11 (r. 641-668) to Italy in the seventh century, a
column was set up in the cathedral ofTeπacina.The Greek and Latin inscήption recorded that
a certain George, consul, and dux had restored and embellished the forum. Ιη acclamatory
fashion the Greek notice wished the orthodox and victoήous emperor many years of rule and
victory.3 Towards the end of our period, however, Erchempert (fl. ninth century), the pήme
narrative commentator we have for events in the ninth century in the south-up to
888-9-could assert that the Greeks were worse than beasts.4 How then did an association with
the Byzantine emperor and his victory in the 660s migrate to one of unmitigated antipathy in
the 880s? Α longitudinal perspective, which is adopted here will allow us to make sense of these
processes and what they mean for Byzantine identity. Our peήod which covers the re
imposition of (East) Roman control of the south and centre of Italy (circa 540-751) and the
south of Hispania (circa 540-624) at the expense of the Ostrogoths and the Visigoths respec
tively up to the threshold of the Katepanate of Italy (circa 895-1071) which saw (again) the
effective control of the Mezzogiorno byConstantinople is not a cohesive chronological peήod in
itself It is tempting to see in the progressive reduction ofByzantine terήtory, particularly in the
north and the centre ofltaly, a progressive attenuation ofByzantine identity.Closer analysis will
emphasise the endurance of such an identity in Italy (and Spain) that is not tied ineluctably with
a political connection with the Byzantine state apparatus in Constantinople.
Υet before we consider details of the interlocking histoήes ofByzantium and the Italo- and
198 DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-13

Contested Identities in Byzantine West
Hispano-Romans we should be aware of the difficulties that we face. First, we must tackle the
question of identity definition. This is problematic as our peήod of study encompasses in
strumental (re)-fashioning of significant cultural, religious, and political traits.5 This has allowed
commentators to suggest, for instance, that the East Roman empire ofJustinian is not the same
entity as the Byzantine empire of Heraclius. The reality as we shall discuss below is that the
empire's inhabitants believed that they were Roman. Naturally, any associations that individuals
cultivated could be emphasised in one respect but not in another. Over the 400 years covered
by this chapter, a multitude of developments occur but none that affect all parts equally either in
the Italian theatre or Spain or the Islands between these regions. Ιη terms of identity formation
and sustenance, geographical factors and contours must be considered significant since the
variety of landscapes and regions in the peninsula and beyond affects the cultural and political
impulses of individuals at a local and regional level. Merely listing the regions of Sardinia, the
Balearic Islands, Naples, and Venetia/Istήa will allow recognition of the different expeήences,
responses, and resolutions adopted by local political elites in this peήod.6
Definitional issues associated with identity are our first difficulty. When we consider the
shifting geo-political contours of the Mediteπanean it is noticeable that these "run" at the same
time as fundamental social and economic alterations.7 Both collective and individual identity
stand at the core of any given societal fabήc and may be defined by language use, personal
appearance, custom, law, institutions, ethnonyms, or even a sense of group cohesion (wir-gifuh�
that allows for a combination of some or all of significant features of individual and collective
identity.8 At the centre of the empire, in Constantinople, the populace remained Rσmaiσi, and
so too the Hispano- and the Italo-Romans.9 Such vertical identity remained a fundamental
pήsm through which individuals perceived themselves, their communities, and their place
within the empire as a whole. This fundamental quality will often mean that it is not expressed
self-consciously by individuals themselves.10 Whether or not we engage with "the obscure law
of cultural hydraulics" 11 or simply a "community of imagination" to understand the variety of
expeήences we encounter; an approach that sees identity as either given or constructed will not
do justice to the complexities of the situations οη the ground.12 Given the mutability of identity
and the interchangeability of constituent elements or "identity sets" it is not useful to see
identity as either "fixed" or "essential" and thus to understand the application of identity, one
should see it as a "situational construct" where certain components may be emphasised at any
given moment at the expense of others but where attήbute α] does not exclude attήbute b]. Ιη
this way, one can be both Roman, guided, and protected by the God-protected emperor in
Constantinople, and Italian with loyalties vested in regional or local networks of social con
struction.13 There is then ηο inherent contradiction in the activities of individuals such as
Droctulft (fl. 570-590), a Suebian, brought up by Lombards; or the Exarch Isaac (625-643)
descήbed as the "leader of the army ...who kept Rome and the West safe for the serene so
vereigns ... support of the emperors" and "great glory of all Armenia" in his epitaph in
Ravenna; 14 or Mzez (622-669), an Armenian general who sought power in seventh-century
Sicily who all operate with dual identities.15 Mzez, Droctulft, and others epitomise the im
portance of internal negotiations that individuals as agents and receivers make; and, con
comitantly that societies conjure, to understand the complexity of identity formation as a nexus
of layered imperatives.16 There are simultaneously active and passive elements in any identity
that may at one point be interlocking, but at another fluid or even contingent. This allows us to
make sense of the layered imperatives of identity, where "most associations ...were local and
usually kin-based." 17 Yet, local groups and elites valued the broader Byzantine identity that
linked their own networks to Constantinople. Ιη political terms, this might mean that local
rulers simply acknowledged the emperors in their charters, but such reference, nonetheless
199
Christopher Heath
symbolised a constitutive element of "an" identity. 18 Of course, at the same time, groups and
identities do not live in a vacuum, so too the maintenance and construction of identities which
contain both inward and outward facing impulses. One might evidence the activities of the
political and military elites in the Exarchate of Ravenna and Sicily as embodiments of this
tension. Beyond the protagonists themselves, a further level of complexity is added by those
who observe and comment οη social actors. Thus, what might be "felt" or asserted by those
individuals themselves may not be represented in our sources as in any sense accurate or "true."
The inhabitants of the East Roman/Byzantine empire remained Romaioi and were ruled by
the Emperor and Autocrat of the Romans (βασιλεύς και αύτοκράτωρ 'Ρωμαίων/basileus kai
19
autokratδr Rhδmaίδn). For the enemies of the empire, the inhabitants were Romans, but
westerners tended to simply refer to people of the empire as "Graeci" (Greeks).20 This seems to
be the implication ofErchempert's less-than-positive appraisal of'Άchivi" (Greeks) in the ninth
century. Yet akin to the Umayyad (661-750) and Abbasid Caliphate (750-1258) it was at
varying points in its iterations multi-ethnic.21 Over the course of our period, one could posit
the case for a narrowing of perception and the creation of an identity associated with a con
scious Hellenisation that flowed fi-om Constantinople. One example of this process was the
disappearance or at least the marginalisation of Latin speakers and communities in the Balkans
duήng the seventh century.22 One could suggest that composite identities such as "a" Byzantine
identity are in themselves essentially oxymoronic, but one may see that identity is not in
eluctably associated with a political authoήty but can operate tangentially with slower cultural
and religious rhythms.23 Byzantine identity was then somewhat more than "Greek" and at the
same time something else than simply "Roman" (in its classical context).24
As we noted above, Italy does not represent a homogenous geographical unity.25 Paul the
Deacon's catalogue ofltalian provinces serves to highlight the dispaήty between and across the
peninsula.26 Within the Lombard kingdom to the north and the west [of most Byzantine
teπitory] political unity was more honoured in theory than in practice. Byzantine Italy in our
peήod can be characteήsed as a constellation of loosely linked micro-regions that at any given
moment were more or less connected into broader networks of trade and socio-economic
relationships that operated across and between the East, Central and West Mediteπanean.27 It
is, of course, entirely possible to consider Byzantine influence and identity in Venice and
Naples without reference to other regions that theoretically shared political attachment to
Constantinople. It should be emphasised that such shared political tutelage does not necessaήly
allow us to extrapolate a common trajectory when we consider identity. Οη the other hand,
however, this does not prove an atomised level of identity with evidence of contrary impulses
such as the activities of the Ravenna army in Sicily or the intervention ofVenice into Ravenna
which would suggest that there was a realisation of shared interests and goals across those parts
ofltaly linked to Constantinople. Trying to enunciate a global response in all these areas is thus
problematic. Older histoήography perceived Byzantine political history to be an exhausting
litany of revolts, wars, and violence which were observed rather than motivated by the po
pulations under the control of Constantinople.28 Ιη Italy, however, the implicit teleological
constructions of histoήans associate the peninsula with a peήpheral status whose association is
increasingly measured by a discordance linked to both political and religious issues.29 Here, in
this approach the iconoclastic policies of the emperors in the eighth century form a particular
watershed. There are a number of difficulties with this approach. First, there is more than a hint
of hindsight deployed to explain the impact of iconoclasm οη religious and political identity in
Italy. Second, the implicit assumption that a secure collective identity was shared by all in
habitants of the empire cannot be demonstrated. Areas such as Liguήa (until 643) and Corsica
(to circa 700) remain obscure, as does the majoήty of the populations and their impulses, as
200
cultivators of the land, which are beyond the direct witness of our materials.30 Absence of
diagnostic evidence for identity and how these people viewed their own identities, be that
Italo-Roman, Roman, or Greek remains problematic. One way out of this apparent cul-de-sac
has been to apply taxonomies οη the basis of ethnonyms. Guillou's analysis of Ravenna, for
instance, which drew upon a composite and numerical evaluation of the Ravennate elite
produced a rather spurious certainty in respect of numeήcal ratios of the Ravennate population
which was effectively demonstrated invalid by the careful analysis of Brown.31 Ιη any case,
political cultures may or may not be enshήned or enhanced by associative naming patterns. Any
given individual may well have a "Greek" or a "Roman" name, but this does not prove or
embody personally any given or indeed fixed particular social construct. Το deal with these
issues, we must embark οη setting out the socio-political landscapes from the return of Roman
authority in Italy in the mid-530s to the ninth century. Ιη this way, we may pinpoint the
processes of identity construction and formation and understand the responses of Erchempert,
radically at vaήance with those of the seventh century.
Melius est serνire Gothis quam Grecis: Αη Indian Summer or False Dawn circa
535-624
This section will consider the landscapes of identity in Italy and beyond across the period circa
535 to circa 624, which encompasses the final stages of the Gothic wars and the appearance of
the Lombards. These 75 years represent a highly fluid situation οη the ground. Α compaήson
between the realities in Italy in 535, or 540 or 554 or after the Lombard arήval in 568-9
demonstrates shifting patterns of military control and governance across the peninsula. Within
the lengthy and often complicated struggles for control ofitaly duήng the Gothic wars between
535 and 561, identity is both fluid and contingent. At the margins of these military and political
events one may detect the adoption of responses by specific agents and groups. It is a histoήcal
commonplace to depict Italy after the end of the Gothic wars as a rather gήm shadow of its
once glorious self Guillou, for instance, descήbed the south of Italy as "economically ex
hausted, the cities depopulated, the difference between town and county had vanished. The
Byzantines were welcomed, say the chronicles, as liberators." 32 Whether the armies ofJustinian
and his pήncipal generals, Belisaήus (circa 500-565) and Narses (circa 478/ 480-573) were or
were not ultimately viewed as liberators must remain debateable since it assumes that the Italian
population associated themselves into the vertical threads of identity that flowed fi-om a self
conscious Rσmanitas. 33 Such welcome was however to prove both temporary and contingent.
Temporary, in that within 20 years of the Pragmatic Sanction ofJustinian (554), the appearance
of the Lombards in the north-east ended any theoretical or practical unity of the peninsula in a
revived empire.34 Contingent in that, partially because of the military effort and fiscal strain felt
by parts of the population, expressed loyalty to Constantinople became malleable and fluid. Ιη
any case, loyalties to the emperor or latterly to the Ostrogothic kings could not be mapped and
matched across to the self-confessed identities of individuals to produce a straightforward set of
impulses and responses.35 Ιη this sense then the re-imposition of East Roman control did not
prompt the articulation of a simple revived Roman identity. With the onerous tax burdens of
the empire applied, the impoveήshed Italian inhabitants, we are told, declared that it would be
"better to serve the Goths than the Greeks" (Melius est seιvire Gσthis quam Grecis). 36 Procopius
reports the activities of Alexander "Scissors" (ψαλιδιος) in his Secret Histσry as an example of
"impeήal injustice and oppression" who had tήed to exact money from the Italians, alleging
that he was punishing them for their behaviour during the reign of Theodeήc the Great
(489-526) and the Goths." 37
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Christopher Heath
Justinian's Sanctiσ Pragmatica of 554 was an attempt to return the Roman genie to the Italian
lamp. 38 It was easier said than done to simply reverse the traumas of the Gothic wars. One may
suggest that the Sanctiσ in its concern for the application offunds for the repair ofRome's public
buildings was simply tinkeήng at the margins.39 Fundamental fault-lines in identities had be
come a crucial battleground for both hearts and minds duήng the Gothic wars. Expressions of
Ostrogothic identity and Rσmanitas had become entangled in the political, military, and socio
°
economic effects of the war.4 Clearly, these divisions could not be simply smoothed over by
impeήal diktat. Whilst prescήptions in the Sanctio envisaged a return to a dual civil and military
administration, the challenges that soon arose once the Lombards had entered Italy rendered
41
this into an effective nullity with power vested in the Exarchs of Ravenna. lmplicitly the
impeήal regime acknowledged that things were not as they had once been. Such realpσlitik is
exemplified by the extant letters of Mauήce (582-602) which set out the division of spoils and
42
Italy between the Empire and the Franks, once the Lombards had been defeated.
It is not only, however, in the practical world of governance and taxation that we can detect
signs of dissonance between Italy and the wider empire. This is also the peήod of the Three
Chapters schism, which may be identified as an early expression of independence between οη
the one hand the Italian bishops and their flocks, and οη the other hand Byzantine authoήty
best exemplified by the Exarch Smaragdus (585-9 and 603-11).43 Paul the Deacon recounts an
episode where the Exarch "personally" drags Severus the Patήarch of Aquileia to Ravenna to
hold "communion" with John ofRavenna who supported the condemnation of the pertinent
three chapters.44 After the recall of Smaragdus to Constantinople, Severus held a synod in
Marano where he abjured his "forced" communion. 45 Paul's account lists those bishops who
subscήbed to the anti-impeήal position, some in areas controlled by the Lombards but also
some who remained resident in Byzantine terήtory. 46 This theological rupture also had political
consequences with bishops associated with the Lombards distancing themselves from the Pope
who followed the impeήal line.47 What remains significant for us in this nexus of complication
and controversy is that local solidaήties mattered more than wider connections and obligations
to the empire at large.
With the advent of the Lombards in Italy, both Venetia and the Ρο valley became frontier
zones witnessing fluid political change. 48 Paul the Deacon records a number of apparently
Byzantine physical outposts beyond these areas which hints at a rather more complex picture
than is usually depicted in the literature.49 With that said, one can see, if one takes a longer view
that the empire is progressively denuded of terήtory. Around 602, for instance, both Padua and
Monselice were taken by Agilulf (590-616) and subsequently Oderzo was captured by the
Lombards. Further north "command centres" were pushed to the edge of the lagoon at
Heraclea.50 Such attenuation was not accompanied without effort οη the part of
Constantinople to respond to Lombard expansion. 51 The question for us, however, that arises
because of this diminution is how individuals and their identities responded. Both Guillou and
Brown pinpoint the increasing militaήsation of society, and in tandem with this, the creation of
a local elite whose loyalties were fixed and linked into the power networks of the empire.
Slower rhythms of cultural identity demonstrate that a deep affinity persisted. Ιη Istήa both
Parenzo/Porec [Parentium] and Pula/Pola retain ecclesiastical and mateήal evidence for this. Ιη
Porec, for instance, a three-aisled Basilica was constructed in the aftermath of the Justinianic
reconquest by Eufi-asius.52
Οη an individual basis, the career of Droctulft offers an interesting illustration of the con
tingent nature of identity. Suevi by origin, Droctulft had served the Lombards but transfeπed
his own personal loyalty to the Byzantine empire. Ιη Italy, Droctulft attempted to defend
Brescello (Brixellum) against Authaή (584-90) but to ηο avail. Later in 587, we find him in the
202
East defending Adrianople from the Avars and in 598 he was in Afήca, delivering an epistle of
Gregory the Great (590-604) to the Exarch Gennadius.53 Οη the other hand, even in this
peήod-and as early as 618-19-the Exarch Eleutheήus (circa 616-20) attempted to set up his
own independent authoήty. The situation is worth consideήng further. The previous Exarch
John Ι (circa 611-16) had been killed in Ravenna and Eleutheήus, we are told by the Liber
Pσntificalis "killed all who had been implicated in the death of the ExarchJohn and judges of the
state."54 Subsequently, Eleutheήus moved to Naples where he, in turn, defeated and killed the
rebelJohn ofCom[p]sa.55 Given the report of his activities against the Lombards, it is somewhat
surpήsing that the LP's next life ofBoniface IV (608-615) should tel1 us that "he assumed the
56
kingship." His ambitions, however, were brought to an abrupt end by soldiers from Ravenna
who presumably were also linked into a political identity that acquired sustenance and support
and connection to and from Byzantium. For Bertolini, Eleutherius sought to create an in
dependent empire equal to that in the East; whereas Brown simply suggested that he was
motivated to create an autonomous government. Extracting policy from the reports of actions is
problematic but the episode remains evocative for our purposes. Ιη terms of political activity,
both Eleutherius and the Ravenna militia operate within aByzantine idiom. Over the longer
term, however, whether these events are indicative or not of a "permanent state of identity
cήsis" remains controversial given the instability of the peήod. If we, however, restήct our
view to the final third of the sixth century, we might indeed conclude thatByzantine authoήty
was comprehensively "shredded" and that this development contήbuted to the increased
tensions between centre and province and Italy, and Constantinople that we have discussed
above.57
Such tensions might also be assumed as evident in the evidence we have οη rule and
governance in Sardinia. Here one encounters scholarship that up until recently emphasised the
insulaήty, isolation, remoteness, and poverty of the island. Maπied to this teleological impulse
was an assurance thatByzantine Sardinia was ruled by foreign elites who presided over its fiscal
impoverishment. This scenaήo will ηο longer suffice and is not helpful for our considerations of
identity. Whilst the island had been subject to Vandal occupation (456/466-534) its reconquest
by the dux Cyήllis in 534 was not part of a protracted war (notwithstanding an attempted
Ostrogothic invasion in 552-3). As Cosentino remarks, ηο Sardinian official before the seventh
century had Greek names and he emphasises that "in the course of time the ruling class of
Byzantine Sardinia was more and more composed of local elements." 58 Certainly the inter
connectedness of the island is underplayed in the literature. The coπespondence of the emperor
Maurice certainly demonstrates the connection of the island to the widerByzantine world, but
it does not reveal perceptions of identity οη the island. The evidence of Gregory the Great's
letter to Zabarda, dux Sardiniae, and to Hospiton, dux Barbaricinσrum of 594 are evocative but
not conclusive in this regard.59 They do at least provide some context to ongoing auto
chthonous traditions and identities that were still not completely associated withByzantium.60
That said, as we shall in the next section, increasing Hellenisation of the island was not
superficial.
Beyond the Italian peninsula, Justinian directed further expansion in the western
Mediterranean. Ιη 552, a Byzantine fleet orchestrated the capture of a segment of the south
eastern Ibeήan coast between Cartagena and Malaga and extended this to Cadiz in 554-5.61
Akin to the areas controlled by the Lombards, Hispano-Romans remained the majority po
pulations in these areas, but it is difficult to empirically prove conceptual responses to identity in
those areas that remained as part of the empire until the first quarter of the seventh century.
According to Jimenez, Diego, and Garcia, the province was "not fully incorporated due to
military restraints, the plague and renewed war in the East." 62 The significant epigraphic
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Christopher Heath
survival of the inscήption ofComitiolus, which records the repair of the city walls ofCartagena
associates the province into the empire more broadly but fails to reveal more than this formulaic
expression of identity.63
Mediteπanean geo-political realities in the mid-sixth century suggest a fluid and volatile set
of political situations.64 So far as identities were concerned, those enshήned in religio-political
loyalties were challenged, fi-ustrated, and compromised. As we have noted, the experience of
the Italian bishops in the north-east and that ofDroctulft speak to personal internal negotiations
with external agents and powers. Ιη the kaleidoscope of expeήence across the peninsula, from
the ultimately short-livedByzantine duchies in Liguria or even those controlled for lengthier
peήods such as the cities of the Pentapolis, it remains intήnsically unhelpful to assume that one
area's expeήences miπored those of others or that one can extrapolate a simple set of impulses
from comment οη individual episodes or cases from Ravenna, Rome, Venetia, or Naples. Ιη
the next section we shall consider whether, with the hardening of political juήsdictions,
identities begin to crystallise and re-configure to match such aπangements οη the ground.
New Realities ίη the Long-Seventh Century circa 602-751

Sometime between 625 and 643 the Exarch of Ravenna set up an epigraph in Greek letters
commemorating the death of a relative. This now incomplete inscήption was discovered near
the site of the monastery ofSan Mauro in the liminal settlement ofCommachio.65 This mateήal
witness to the presence of Greek speakers and an identity linked to the over-archingByzantine
commonwealth should not surprise us. After all, as Herήn and Nelson note, Ravenna and its
portClassis formed a connective point between Constantinople and the west. Here they suggest
"generals with their attendant troops, government officials, expert craftsmen, visiting en
tertainers and con men from the East all used the port ofClassis ..." Κnowledge of Greek, legal
regulations, philosophical arguments and theological debates also arήved at Ravenna by the
same route."66 Υet this was not all one-way traffic. Such inter-connective currents may be
exemplified by evidence of visual culture from the seventh century. Ιη the basilica of San
Apollinare in Classe, for instance, there remains a mosaic which depicts Constantine IV (r.
668-85) granting tax pήvileges to the church of Ravenna. Clearly, such high-level re
presentation links the city and the populace into a political and cultural identity that is associated
with Constantinople.67 Ιη many respects, however, Ravenna must be viewed as atypical.
Ιη the long seventh century, one may evidence a gradual disentanglement of identities, so
that by 751, one detects a shift away fi-om collective and shared identity withByzantium, with
strategies of distinction that propelled ruling elites in Italy to control and command their own
political, cultural, and economic futures.68 The Exarchate of Ravenna, at least according to
Guillou was a melting pot of identities and ethnicities in the long seventh century. For him "the
settlement of Avars, ofSlavs and ofBulgars is an incontestable fact."69 Whether or not this was
true in any objective sense may be impossible to resolve, but perhaps what remains more
significant is how these individual groups "pooled" their ethnicity into the dominant political
identity associated with the Exarchate. For the early part of this peήod, the Exarchs were able to
control those areas associated with theByzantine empire as far afield as Istria andSicily.By the
end of this period, the Byzantine empire's control became mediated through local power
networks for example, in Naples, in Sardinia, and in the Baleaήc Islands that operated
separately-although elites in these areas "funnelled" their legitimacy through adherence to the
emperor in Constantinople. There was ηο inherent association in this peήod with the East per
se, but a strong attachment to the Mediterranean focus of the empire.70 This is reflected in good
measure by the abortive plans of not only Constans II but also Mauήce (r. 582-602) and
204
Heraclius (r. 610-641) to establish the court in the west.71 It is also reflected in the so-called
Greek papacy of the peήod that follows Agatho (678-81) as Pope up to the death ofGregory ΠΙ
(731-41).72
The continuing Byzantine presence in the western Mediteπanean made the maήtime
possessions of Sardinia and the Balearic Islands a crucial component of a network that flowed
from Constantinople to Sicily and onwards. One can detect an increasing Hellenisation of elites
in Sardinia. Ιη this sense the concept of "peήpheral centrality" is useful.73 Certainly, the ma
teήal culture that survives fi-om the island can be shown to highlight connections to the wider
Mediterranean rather than a preoccupation with autochthonous insulaήty. One inscήption that
survives fi-om the island shows this association with the hope that the "barbaήans" (in this case
the Lombards-who had conquered Corsica in circa 700) "would not prevail." Fundamentally,
however, we remain in the dark were we to attempt to get to grips with the thornier questions
of identity in this peήod οη the island.
We can say more about the southern neighbour of Sardinia. Α political naπative can be
constructed for Sicily in the seventh and eighth centuήes, which demonstrates processes that are
recognisable in other Byzantine terήtories. It is evident that the elite οη Sicily remained linked
into a Byzantine expression of identity. Significant revolts and upheavals occuπed here in 652
including the failed usurpation of the Exarch Olympios who was killed in Sicily, and the
usurpation of Mzez, which followed after the death of Constans Π.74 Later in the eighth
century, we see the island's strategos, Sergios attempt to promote his own impeήal candidate,
Basil Onomagoulos (as emperor Tibeήus). This was based οη a false premise that
Constantinople had fallen to the Arabs and that Leo ΠΙ (717-41) had not survived.75 Crucially
these revolts against central impeήal authoήty aimed at replacing the ruler, rather than rejecting
the authoήty of the empire itself As Brown noted, the "revolts reflected personal ambition
rather than purely local separatism." 76 This remains the case were we to continue the thread
into the later eighth century with the revolt of Antiochos (766); or the defeat of the strategos
Elpidios (781); 77 or the failed putsch of the tourmarches Euphemios whose activities usher Sicily
into a new era. Clearly the island's political class ran to a separate rhythm than the mainland's
and it is also evident that individuals οη the ground still vested their identities into a composite
Byzantine conceptual universe.This is best exemplified by the cultural and religious cuπents οη
the island. The lives of Gregory of Agήgento; 78 Pancratius of Taormina [seventh/eighth
century]; Methodios [788/800-847], the future patήarch of Constantinople; 79 Iohannicis [of
Ravenna of the Exarchate ofTheodore (678-87)80 ; and a certain Kosmas (fl. eighth century) all
show that a robust Byzantine identity persisted in Sicily notwithstanding the political events set
out above.
The situation οη the mainland is not so clear-cut. Brown, who surveyed the global patterns,
suggested that "discontent and separatist feeling had grown rapidly" as the seventh century
elided into the eighth.81 Overall, this is a judgement that can be accepted both in the light of
the events of 726-7 and even with the end of the Ravenna Exarchate in 751.82 At the same
time, we must remember that identity does not solely abide with political orientations. Ιη the
Exarchate and the Pentapolis, after 751, effective power remained in the hands of the
Archbishop-both duήng and after the bήef Lombard over-lordship. Agnellus descήbed his
rule as one that was ':iust like an Exarch and aπanging everything as the Romans were ac
customed to doing." 83 This may, of course, tel1 us more about the increasingly decentralised
nature of elite power in Byzantine and post-Byzantine regions, but it is also suggestive of a firm
link in terms of political identity with norms of behaviour and culture associated with
Constantinople. Ιη the final section, we shall consider whether one can identify the survival of a
Byzantine identity at all.
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Christopher Heath
Italo-Romans at the Margins of Byzantium 751-895

Much ink has been spilt attempting to ascertain when one particular area may or may not have
become"independent" fi-om the empire. Whilst this will be relevant for the political identity of
elites and individuals, as we have seen above, it does not necessarily affect cultural, socio
economic, or personal identity. Ιη political terms the retreat of "the higher powers to be"
miπors similar processes in the west that become increasingly operative across the late eighth
and ninth centuήes.84 Local elites and power networks increasingly substitute their own agency
in place of the emperors. This is evident, for instance with the Tyπhenian entities of Amalfi,
85
Gaeta, and Naples. Ιη Ravenna, the last text that is dated to the emperors in Constantinople
relates to 767, only 16 years after the end ofExarchal rule in the city.86 Further north, whilst
there may have been fears of"direct restoration ofByzantine sovereignty" as late as the eleventh
century, the reality was that "the last naval intervention of the Byzantine fleet" dated back to
810.87 Even so, there remained some align ment between elements of layered identity as
espoused by political communities and embodied by individuals.
Tensions between the two, are demonstrated by the important Plea of Rizana (Riziano) of
circa 804 (or at the very least between 800 and 810) which provides a window οη socio-cultural
identities at the margins of the Byzantine empire.88 Istria had only been conquered by the
Carolingian empire in 788. Missi had been sent to Rizana to hear the complaints of the local
leaders and landowners. Α substantial section of the extant Placitum complains about the ac
tivities of the local dux John. It reports, for instance, that when they were "under the power of
the Greeks" that the inhabitants "had the custom of having the offices of the tribunus, domesticus
and vicarius and also the lociservator... " but now this power was solely vested in the dux. The Plea
concluded that"if the LordEmperor Charles can rescue us, we can escape, otherwise it is better
for us to die than to live" [si nobis sucurrit domnus Carolus imperator, possumus evader, sin autem,
Melius est nobis mori quam vivere].89 Βοrή characterised this document as evidence for a "deep
crisis of identity" and it is clear that the Istήans were concerned with novel approaches to
governance and rule and to the apparent restrictions οη their access to the centre of power, now
circumscήbed by the Dux John.90 Local powerbrokers had then been co-opted into Byzantine
power structures but essentially left to govern themselves. The new aπangements then jaπed
with their social prestige and power-and their personal identities.
This landscape is reminiscent of the scenario in eighth-century Rome. Here the presentation
of visual culture was used as a defining tool of political and cultural identity. Crucially it aimed
to higWight a distinctiveness fi-om impeήal power and the empire but not fi-om cultural or
intellectual traditions that had linked Rome and Constantinople since the sixth century. As
Maskaήnec has shown, in the selection of saints in Santa Maήa Antiqua, we see those saints that
opposed the emperors given prominence. Indeed, the whole schema appropήates to Rome an
identity woven into the Eastern Mediteπanean that has a long tradition of opposition to the
political and religious cuπents in Constantinople.91 As demonstrated elsewhere, Rome enters a
new era from the 730s to 770s, although one key moment which signifies the shift in asso
ciation comes as late as the 770s when "the pontifl's name replaced that of the emperor οη
Roman coins and documents."92 Notwithstanding the coronation of Charlemagne in 800,
vestigial nostalgia for Byzantium endured with one magister militum, Gratian, who was accused
of accepting bribes fi-om theEast in 853.93
Further south, where the empire retained a physical presence and rule, cultural identity
continued to manifest Byzantine connections. Ιη the political sphere, the ypatus of Gaeta,
Docibilis Ι (867-circa 914) is just one example of a local ruler deploying, in his extant will of
906, the Byzantine emperors as his dating reference despite the political autonomy of his
206
terήtory.94 More broadly, as the naπative of Erchempert makes clear, the South was funda
mentally destabilised by the convergent attention of exteήor powers. First, the Aghlabid
emirate (800-909), which progressively in the course of the ninth century pushed out
Byzantium from Sicily; second, the Franks whose intermittent interventions served to further
upset the geopolitical applecart; and third, the Byzantine empire itself whose recrudescence was
signalled by its successful involvement in the campaign to defeat the emirate of Baή (847-871).
Internecine warfare between fractious Lombard polities οη the one hand and independent but
small former Byzantine dependencies such as Amalfi, Naples, and Gaeta fostered the return of
Byzantine teπitoήal control which reached a zenith with the capture of Benevento in
95
892-895. Despite this contact and involvement, Erchempert's presentation is both highly
antagonistic and symptomatic in that the empire is counted amongst those protagonists who are
alien to the region.96 Υet beyond the political sphere, clearly identity remained associated with
97
Byzantium. Italy remained the pivot of such contacts. Ιη terms of cultural identity, language,
and Greek monasticism are telling examples of the continuation of this identity. At a humbler
level, individuals retained their own association of identity with, for instance, the use of Greek
letteήng in diplomas.98
This peήod has been characteήsed as the end of Byzantium in the north and centre of the
Italian peninsula, and for all intents and purposes a liminal connection to the south of Italy
increasingly attenuated by the Islamic conquest of Sicily. Υet, we know that as the ninth
century concluded, Byzantine rule of the south of Italy expeήenced a revival that maintained a
political, cultural, and religious connection until the end of the eleventh century. Lombard
commentators such as Paul the Deacon and Erchempert have both allowed histoήans to view
the Byzantine contήbution to Italy as both alien and unwelcome. Ιη looking at the details οη
the ground and eschewing the discourse woven into histoήcal narratives we can see that
Byzantine identity remained significant and relevant in this period.
Conclusion
Αη investigation into Byzantine identity in the central Mediteπanean that deals with nearly 400
years of human expeήence and tackles an area as diverse and extensive as that represented by
Ibeήa, Sardinia, the Italian mainland, and the Venetian lagoon, must accept that few, if any
generalisations will hold water when analysed in depth. That said, we can recognise the fluidity
and multivalent responses of elites and communities to the shifting and vaήed dynamics of
political power that operated through and from the impeήal centre in Constantinople. And
whilst at first glance, one may be more than tempted to consider the term "Byzantine identity"
to be entirely unhelpful, it is clear that such an overarching identity held attraction and salience
for elites fi-om the Baleaήc Islands to Sardinia to Amalfi and Naples to Venetia. This meant
something tangible and relevant for individuals οη the ground. How important this was to those
individuals must remain an open question. The use of Greek sigillography in one place; the
deployment of charter signatures using Greek letteήng in another; or even, expressions of
loyalty to the emperors in Constantinople across and between any given period cannot simply
allow us to extrapolate a constructed and secure identity.
One wonders whether the slower rhythms of language development in the West where late
Latin shifted into a vaήety ofRomance languages contήbuted, οη the other hand, to a sense of
difference between the West and the East.99 This could be the touchstone development for
identity in that it prompts ipsσ factσ a sense of wir-gifuhl more than any other political or societal
construction. Such cohesion garnered by language is further strengthened by the "pull" of
religious ideology and the "push" of political impulse. Where one or more of these features or
207
Christopher Heath
elements is not in alignment, one may then detect a re-oήentation of response and self
identity. 100 Such then is the case in parts ofltaly fi-om the late-seventh century onwards. Ιη this
respect, then and aside from specific cultural isolates, Byzantium became a "foreign " place with
an identity that remained focussed and mediated through local networks, where local identity
stayed pήmordial. At any given point in time, elites might or might not be subject to co
optation in respect of authoήty and power. This might, οη the one hand, result in direct
governance through imposed representatives sent by Constantinople but increasingly in our
peήod it simply meant an association between elites and the centre. Ιη practice, this might mean
ηο more than that an individual was bestowed with a Byzantine honour, for example, the dux
of Benevento, and that emperors were acknowledged in charters. We must, however, as we

have seen remain wary if not sceptical at naπatives that seek to homogenise the vaήed and
multifaceted experiences of individuals across the whole of the central Mediterranean and how
their responses and impulses were demonstrated. Looking at the interstitial places, in the
tensions between Constantinople and the Central and Western Mediteπanean elites and net
works we may then find the answers to the conundrums posed by cultural and political
identities.
* My thanks to both Clemens Gantner, Edoardo Manarini, the editors and the external
reader who commented οη earlier drafts of this item. All eπors remain mine of course.
Notes
1 Key literature includes: Walter Pohl and Helmit Reimitz, eds. Strategies of Distinction: Constrnction of
Ethnic Communities, 300-800 (Leiden: Brill, 2013); Walter Pohl, 'Ίntroduction - Strategies of
Identification: Α Methodological Profιle," in Strategies of Identijication: Ethnicity and Religion in Early
Medieval Europe, eds. W. Pohl and G. Heydemann (Turnhout: Brepols, 2013), 1-64; John Haldon
and Hugh Kennedy, "Regional Identities and Military Power: Byzantium and Islam ca.600-750," in
Visions of Community in the Post-Roman World: The West, Byzantium and the Islamic World 300-1100,
eds. W. Pohl, C. Gantner and R. Payne (Abingdon: Routledge, 2016), 317-41; Patrick Geary, The
Myth of Nations: The Medieval Origins of Europe (Princeton: Princeton UP, 2002); Patήck Geary,
'Έthnicity as a Situational Construct in the Early Middle Ages," in Mittielungen des anthropologischen
Gesellschaft in Wien 113 (1983): 5-26.
2 Andre Guillou, 'Ίtalie Meήdionale Byzantine ou Byzantins en Italie Meridionale," Byzantion 44
(1974): 152-90.
3 Οροοδε (ών) χ(άί) νήχ(η)τ(ών) β(αςίλεώη) Πολλά τά ετη (Orthodoxos kai Niketos Basileus polla ta etι).
See Andre Guillou, Inscήptions du duche de Rome, in Andre Guillou, Culture et Societe en Italie
Byzantine Vie-XIe s. (London: Variorum, 1978), 149-52. Guillou speculatively associates the in
scήptions with the specific visit of Constans ΙΙ οη 29th June 663. Maskaήnec's work has the most
accessible image of this column. See Maya Maskarinec, City of Saints: Building Rome in the Early
Middle Ages (Philadelphia: UPP, 2018), 59.
4 Joan Rowe Ferry, Erchempert's History of the Lombards of Benevento: Α Translation and Study of its place in
the Chronicle Tradition (Houston, Texas, 1995) (unpublished PhD), 249; and., Luigi Andrea Berto,
Erchemperto: Piccola Storia dei Longobardi di Benevento (Napoli: Liguore, 2013), 202-3 'Άchivi autem ut
habitudinis similes sunt, ίtα animo equals sunt bestiis, vocabulo christiani, set moribus tristiores Agarenis."
5 Our period covers both the first and second Iconoclasms (726-87 and 814-46), which proved in
fluential in formulating the classic "middle Byzantine" identity. See the canons of the Quinisext
Synod, practices of the Byzantine Church appear in opposition to Latin customs honoured in Rome.
See Andrew Louth, "The Byzantine Empire in the Seventh Century," in New Cambridge Medieval
History: Vol. Ι c.500-c. 700, ed. Ρ. Fouracre (Cambridge: CUP, 2005), 291-316, at 313 and Andrew
Louth, "The Emergence ofByzantine Orthodoxy 600-1095," in The CHC: Vol. ΠΙ: Early Medieval
Christianities c. 600-c.1100, eds. T.F.X. Noble and J.M.H. Smith (Cambήdge: CUP, 2009), 50. Leslie
Brubaker and John Haldon, Byzantium in the Iconoclast Era c. 680-850: The Sources - An Annotated
Survey (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2001), xxiii, which sees the peήod from the late seventh century to later
208
ninth century as the period that saw the "formation ofthe characteristic features ofmiddle Byzantine
state and culture."
6 Gasparή sees Venice itselfas "forged as an Adriatic, Italian and Byzantine community." Sauro Gelichi
and Stefano Gasparή, eds., Venice and Its Neighboursfrom VIIIth-XIth-Century: Through Renovation and
Continuity (Leiden: Brill, 2018), 171.
7 Michael McCormick, The Origins of the European Economy: Communications and Commerce 300-900
(Cambήdge: CUP, 2002); Chήs Wickham, Framing the Early Middle Ages: Europe and the
Mediterranean 400-800 (Oxford: OUP, 2006); Robert Latouche, The Birth of the Western Economy:
Economic Aspects of the Dark Ages (London: Methuen, 1967); Henri Pirenne, Muhammad and
Charlemagne (London: George Allen, 1954).
8 Haldon and Kennedy, Regional Identities, 319 highlight religion, language, region, public function,
and social origin as constituitive of the repertoires of identity. See Michael McCormick, "The
Impeήal Edge: Italo-Byzantine Identity, Movement and Migration 650-950," in Studies on the
Internal Diaspora of the Byzantine Empire, eds. Η. Ahrweiler and Α. Laiou (Washington, DC: DO,
1998), 18-9 οη personal appearance.
9 Ostrogorsky identified "Roman political concepts, Greek culture and the Chήstian faith" as the main
elements ofthe "Byzantine way oflife." George Ostrogorsky, History of the Byzantine State (London:
Basil Blackwell, 1980), 27. The multivalence of the term Roman is discussed with aplomb by
Maskarinec. See Maya Maskaήnec "Who Were the Romans: Shifting Scripts ofRomanness in Early
Medieval Italy," in Post Roman Transitions: Christian and Barbarian Identities in the Early Medieval West,
eds. W. PoW and G. Heydemann (Turnhout: Brepols, 2013), 297.
10 Here the concept of "identity sets" is useful that is, "all members of all societies belong ...to more
than one...group ofmutually recognised 'identity sets' but they do not belong to all the same sets."
See Haldon and Kennedy, Regional Identities, 317.
11 T.S. Brown, Gentlemen and Officers: Imperial Administration and Aristocratic Power in Byzantine Italy
554-800 (Rome: Bήtish School at Rome, 1984), 5.
12 Michael McCormick, "Byzantium and the West 700-900," in NCMH: Vol.II c. 700-c.900, ed. R.
McΚitteήck (Cambήdge: CUP, 1995), 349-80, at 349.
13 See Sviatoslav Dmitήev, "The Cultural Context ofByzantium's Cultural and Religious Controversy
with the West in the Ninth Century," Porphyra 24 (2015): 7-8 for the use of "Italian" to denote
inhabitants of the empire in Italy by Greek commentators.
14 Deborah MauskopfDeliyannis, Ravenna in Late Antiquity (Cambridge: CUP, 2010), 280. For dis
cussion ofthe inscription see Edward Schoolman, "Re-assessing the Sarcophagi ofRavenna," DOP
67 (2013): 66-8.
15 For Mzez (or Mizizos) see John Haldon, Byzantium in the Seventh Century: The Transformation of α
Culture (Carnbridge: CUP, 2008), 61; Guillou, Regionalisme et Independance, 160; Prosopographie der
mittelbyzantinischen Zeit Online (accessed 19/Ι /2020).
16 Ronald Mellor "Graecia Capta: The Confrontation Between Greek and Roman identity," in
Hellenisms, ed. Κ. Zachaήa (London: Routledge, 2016), 79-126, at 79. Το paraphrase Pierre
Bourdieu identity "must be a negotiation in mutual misunderstanding between cultures." For the
flexibility of "a" Roman identity see Sviatoslav Dmitriev, "John Lydus and his Contemporaήes οη
Identities and Culture of Seventh Century Byzantium," DOP 64 (2010): 27-42.
17 Patricia Crone, Medieval Islamic Political Thought (Edinburgh: EUP, 2005), viii. See also Patήcia
Crone, Pre-Industrial Societies: Anatomy of the Pre-Modern World (Oxford: Oneworld, 1989) andJulia
Μ.Η. Smith, Europe after Rome: Α Cultural History 500-1000 (Oxford: OUP, 2005).
18 See ChLA2 26 and ChLA2 27 in Guglielmo Cavallo, Giovanna Nicolaj and Francesco Magistrale,
eds., Chartae Latinae Antiquiores: Volume LI Part ΧΧΙΙΙ: Cava dei Tirreni (Dietikon Zίirich: Urs Graf
Verlag, 1998), 110-6, which use the emperors Leo (VI) (r. 886-912) and Alexander (r. 912-3) in the
dating proem and rehearses Guaimar ΙΙ of Salemo (901-46) as both "imperiali patronis' and
'principatus."
19 As is well known "basileus" is the adopted tide ofHeraclius (610-41). Autokratorbecomes usual after
912. Dmitriev ("Religious Controversy," 10 and nts. 30 and 31) indicates thatJustinian Ι first used the
title 'Έmperor of the Romans."
20 Clemens Gantner, "The Label Greeks in the Papal Diplomatic Repertoire in the Eighth-century," in
Strategies of Identijication: Ethnicity and Religion in Early Medieval Europe, eds. W. PoW and G.
Heydemann (Turnhout: Brepols, 2013), 304-7 is very useful οη this question.
209
Christopher Heath
21 McCoπnick, Byzantium and the West, 330. Anthony Kaldellis (Romanland: Ethnicity and Empire in
Byzantium [Cambήdge, ΜΑ: HUP, 2019], 12-7) discusses the replacement of Roman with Greek by
western cornmentators and protagonists.
22 Tia Kolbaba, "Latin and Greek Chήstians," in CHC: Vol. ΠΙ: Early Medieval Christianities c. 600-
c.1100, eds. T.F.X.Noble andJ.M.H. Srnith (Cambridge: CUP, 2009), 214-5. Hellenisation as a
term is not without definitional "drift" since it may be applied (particularly in earlier peήods) to
Pagan religio-cultural impulses but it is preferable to "Graecisation," which I have elected not to use.
23 See Conant, Staying Roman, 1 "empires can survive as an identity long after they disappear as polities."
24 Kaldellis rerninds us of the "fundamental" confusions that aήse from the use of Byzantine as a term,
but I will use the term, notwithstanding these issues. Kaldellis, Romanland, ix-xiii. Drnitriev carefully
sets out contemporary perceptions of what divides Greek and Roman. He observes that: 'Ίη cultural
terms, therefore, the Byzantines were "Greeks," as opposed to the Latin-speaking "Romans." Ιη
political terms, however, the Byzantines were "Romans." See Dmitriev, Religious Controversy, 4-7.
25 Guillou sets out the geographical parameters of Byzantine Italy. See Guillou, L Ίtalia bizantina,
220-7. Division in terms of ecclesiastical geography is set out by Claire Sotinel. See Claire Sotinel,
"The Three Chapters and the Transformations of Italy," in The Crisis of the Oikoumene: The Three
Chapters and the Failed Quest for Unity in the Sixth-century Mediterranean, eds. C. Chazelle and C.
Cubbitt (Turnhout: Brepols, 2007), 85-8.
26 Lidia Capo, ed., Paolo Diacono: Storia dei Longobardi (Vicenza: Valla, 1992), 94-105; William Dudley
rif
Foulke, History the Longobards (Philadelphia: UPP, 1907), 71-9.
27 This underestimates the shared expeήence provided by the sea which was not a "world of
boundaήes ...but of routes that connected." Francesco Borri, "The Waterfront of Istria: Sea and
Identity in the post-Roman Adήatic," in Gelichi et al., 56 and 67.
28 See Montesquieu's comments (1689-1755) l'histoire de l'empire Grecque ...n'est plus qu'un tissu de
revoltes, de seditions et de peιjidies. Les sujets n'avaient pas seulement l'idee de la fidelite que l'on doit aux
princes...." Voltaire (1694-1778) was less sympathetic observing that (in reference to Byzantium in
the Early Middle Ages) Quelle histoire de brigands obscurs, punis en place publique pour leurs crimes, est plus
horribles et plus degoutante?' August Ludwig Schlozer (1735-1809) in his Vorstellung des Universalhistorie
of 1775 it was a 'miserable empire de pretres." As quoted in Andre Guillou 'Le Monde de Byzance' in
Andre Guillou, Studies on Byzantine Italy (London: Vaήorum, 1970), 31-5.
29 This is problematic. One thinks of the evidence in the Epistolae Austrasicae which suggest the op
posite. See Έpistolae Austrasicae' in Wilhelm Grundlach, ed., Monumenta Germaniae Historiae
Epistolae (Tomus ΠΙ) (Berlin: Weidmann, 1892), 110-53.
30 Liguήa: Ross Balzaretti, Dark Age Liguria: Regional Identity and Local Power c. 40{}-1000 (Bloomsbury:
London, 2013), 73-9. Corsica: Incidental references abound. Walter Kaegi, Muslim Expansion and
Byzantine Collapse in North Africa (Cambridge: CUP, 2010), 293 (for the seventh century); Giovanni
rif
Tabacco, The Struggle for Power in Medieval Italy: Structures Political Rule (Cambridge: CUP, 1989),
91 (for the eighth century).
31 Andre Guillou, Regionalisme et Independence dans l'Empire Byzantin au VΠe siecle: L'exemple de
l'Exarchat et de lα Pentapole dΊtalie (Rome: Istituto Storico Italiano per 11 Medio Ενο, 1969), 79 and
95. Brown, Officers, 67-9. See also McCorrnick, Imperial Edge, 19-21 who has useful comments οη
the "name stocks" of Byzantine Italy.
32 economiquement epuise; les villes sont depeuplees; lα difference entre villes et campagnes α disparu. Les Byzantins
seront accuellis dissent les chroniques en liberateurs' Andre Guillou, "Des Collectivites Rurales a la
Collectivite Urbaine en Italie Meήdionale Byzantine VI-Xie s," Bulletin de Correspondance Hellenique
100 (1976): 316.
33 Οη the longevity ofNarses see Dariusz Brodka, Narses: Politik, Krieg und Historiographie (Berlin: Peter
Lang, 2018), 21-2. Brodka points out the absence of cornment by Procopius and Agathias οη the
alleged antiquity of Narses. For responses οη the ground to the Byzantine arrnies see the views of
Moorhead and Kouroumali: John Moorhead, 'Ίtalian Loyalties duήng Justinian's Gothic War,"
Byzantion 53 (1983), 575-96 and Maria Kouroumali, "Justinianic Reconquest of Italy: Impeήal
Campaigns and Local Resources' in War and Waιfare in Lote Antiquity, eds. Ν. Chήstie and Α.
Sarantis (Leiden: Brill, 2013), 968-99. Kouroumali questions Moorhead's conclusion that the Italians
were pήmaήly pro-East Roman, concluding that the Italians had ηο preference for one side or the
other, but merely made alliances with their own best interests in rnind.
34 The breathing space can be reduced to a mere seven years with the final defeat of the last Ostrogothic
210
stronghold in 561 and the first appearance of the Lombards in Venetia et Histria in 568-569 (without
reference to the revolt of Sinduald in 566).
35 Initial responses to the Gothic wars are illustrative here e.g., Cassiodorus remained loyal to the Amals,
whereas Theodahad's son-in-law, Ebremud/Ebrimuth deserted to Belisarius. For further details of
the military responses and actions see J.A.S. Evans, The Age ofJustinian: The Circumstances of Imperial
Power (Abingdon: Routledge, 1996), 171-80.
36 Jean Chatillon, ed., Richard de St. Victor:Liber Exceptionum (Paris: J. Vήη, 1958), 193; Luigi Bonazzi,
Storia di Perugia: dalle origini αl 1860 (Vol.I dalle origini αl 1494) (Perugia: Vincenzo Santucci, 1875),
155. For impoveήshment generally, see Salvatore Consetino, "Byzantine Sardinia between West and
East: Features of a Regional Culture," in Millennium (1), eds. W. Brandes et al. (Berlin: Walter de
Gruyter, 2004), 338.
37 Η.Β. Dewing, ed., Procopius: The Anecdota or Secret History (Cambήdge, ΜΑ: HUP, 1935), xxvi: 29,
313. This is "a topos of modern historiography, which probably needs to be investigated more
precisely." Consentino, Sardinia between East and West, 340. For the problematic nature of Procopius
generally see Henning Borm, "Procopius, His Predecessors, and the Genesis of the Anecdota," in
Antimonarchic Discourse in Antiquity, ed. Η. Borm (Stuttgart: Verlag, 2015), 305-45.
38 Cosentino, Byzantine Sardinia, 338.
39 Rudolf Schoell and Wilhelm Κroll, eds., Novellae: Corpus Iuris Civilis 3 (Berlin: Weidmann, 1928),
779-802. Walter Kaegi, "Sanctio Pragmatica," in Dictionary of Byzantium, ed. Α. Kazhdan (Oxford:
OUP, 1992) (accessed online 24.12.2019); Aveήl Carneron, "Justin Ι and Justinian," in CAH:
Volume XIV Late Antiquity: Empire and Successors 425-600, eds. Αν. Cameron, Β. Ward-Perkins and
Μ. Whitby (Cambήdge: CUP, 2000), 82-3; MarliaMundellMango,"Building and Architecture," in
CAH, 923; Evans,]ustinian, 200-1; RosamondMcΚitteήck, The Papacy and Byzantium in Seventh and
Eighth-Centuries, 252; and, Bjornlie, Politics and Tradition, 14.
40 Chrysos points out the fluidity of reference by Procopius who oscillates between Italians and Romans
in his descήption of the inhabitants of the peninsula. The latter applied with the restoration of
Justinianic rule. See Evangelos Chrysos, "The Roman Political Identity in Late Antiquity and Early
Byzantium," in Byzantium: Identity, Image, Influence, ed. Karsten Fledelius (Copenhagen: Eventus,
1996), 11.
41 Brown, Officers & Gentlemen, 48-59; Giovanni Tabacco, The Struggle for Power in Medieval Italy:
Structures of Political Rule (Cambridge: CUP, 1989), 71-2.
42 Foulke, History of the Langobards, 117-8 and 126; Capo, Paolo Diacono, 146-7 and 152-5. For dis
cussion, see Yaniv Fox, "The Language of Sixth-century Frankish Diplomacy," in The Merovingian
Kingdoms and the Mediterranean World: Revisiting the Sources, eds. S. Esders et al. (London:
Bloomsbury,2019), 63-75.
43 For a summary, John Moorhead, "The Byzantines in the West in the Sixth-Century," in NCMH:
Vol.I c.500-c. 700, ed. Ρ. Fouracre (Carnbήdge: CUP, 2005), 118-40 at 131-2; See also the essays in
Celia Chazelle and Catherine Cubbitt, eds., The Crisis of the Oikoumene: The Three Chapters and the
Failed Quest for Unity in the Sixth-century Mediterranean (Turnhout: Brepols, 2007) and in particular,
Sotinel who tracks "a sense of solidarity ... against the Greeks," Sotinel, Three Chapters, 92.
44 Foulke, History of the Langobards, 131-3; Capo, Paolo Diacono, 156-9; Sotinel, Three Chapters, 115-7.
45 Foulke, History of the Langobards, 133; Capo, Paolo Diacono, 156-9.
46 Andre Guillou, "L'Italia Bizantina; Douleia e Oikeiosis," Bolletino dell'Istituto Storico Italiano per il
Medio Evo 78 (1967): 9-10.
47 That said, there is a lengthy period of opposition and division between Rome οη the one hand and
the provinces ofMilan and Aquileia οη the other hand before the advent of the Lombards. The arrest
of Vitalis of Altino by Narses, as Sotinel correctly notes, is more likely to be associated with
"questions of political allegiance." See Sotinel, Three Chapters, l 06-7.
48 Carola Jaggi, "Ravenna in the Sixth-Century: The Archaeology of Change," in Herrin & Nelson,
87-109.
49 Authari (584-590) defeats Francio who had held 'Ίsola" di Commacina for 20 years (HL:III.27):
Foulke, History of the Langobards, 135-6; Capo, Paolo Diacono, 158-9. See also, Fabio Carrninati and
Andrea Maήani,"Ίsola Comacina e Isola Comense: una stoήca confusione dl Identita,' Nuova rivista
storica Vol. C. (2016): 13-72, at 21.
50 Stefano Gasparri, "The First Dukes and the Origins ofVenice" in Gelichi and Gasparri, Venice and its
Neighbours, 5.
51 One thinks of the efforts of Baduaήus, and the emperors Maurice and Constans ΙΙ in this respect.
211
Christopher Heath
52 Υuή Α.Marano, "The Circulation ofMarble in the Adήatic Sea at the Time ofJustinian," inHerήn
et al., 119-20 for further details.
53 Guillou, L Ίtalia bizantina, 230.
54 Davis, The Book of Pontiffs, 65. Oliver Nicholson, ed., ODLA (Oxford: OUP, 2018), 531;
McΚitterick, Papacy and Byzantium, 53; andJohnHaldon, Ideology and Social Change; Treadgold, The
Byzantine Revival; 'Έleuterio" in DBI.
55 Μaήο Forigione, Napoli ducale. La storia di Napoli dal VI al ΧΙΙ secolo (Rome: Newton Compton,
1997). For discussion of Eleutheήos, see Michael Ε. Stewart, "Breaking Down Barriers: Eunuchs in
Italy and North Afήca 400-625," in Byzantine Culture in Translation, eds. Α. Brown and Β. Neil
(Leiden: Bήll, 2017), 33-54, at 33-5.
56 Davis, The Book cif Pontiffs, 65. Ottorino Bertolini, Roma difronte α Bisanzio e ai Longobardi (Bologna:
Licino Cappelli, 1941), 302. For his activities, Georg Hille, Prosperi Aquitani Chronici: Continuator
Havniensis (Berlin: Weidmann, 1866), 37.
57 Felice Lifshitz, "The Vicissitudes of Political Identity:Histoήcal Narrative in the Barbarian Successor
States ofWestern Europe," in The Oxford History cif Historical Writing: Volume ΙΙ, eds. S. Foot and C.F.
Robinson (Oxford: OUP, 2012), 370.
58 Consentino, Sardinia, 340.
59 John Martin, The Letters of Gregory the Great (Vols Ι) (Toronto: PIMS, 2004), 306-7 & 308-9.
60 Εηήcο Besta, La Sardegna Medioevale: Le vicende politiche dal 450 αl 1326 (Bologna: Forni Editore,
1966), 17.
61 Moorhead, "Byzantines in the West," 118-40, at 129 suggests this was motivated by the need to
defend Byzantine North Mrica from Visigothic attentions. For discussion of Byzantine policies with
regard to ecclesiastical appointment see 130-1 but contra note the complaints of the people and clergy
of Carthage against the replacement of Reparatus. Moorhead's conclusion (139) delineates the
progressive schism between the East and the West by the end of the seventh century.
62 Javier Martίnez Jimenez, Isaac Sastre de Diego and Carlos Tejeήzo Garcίa, The Iberian Peninsula
between 300 and 850: An Archaeological Perspective (Amsterdam: AUP, 2018), 181.
63 " ... Comitiolus sic haec iussit patricius missus α Mauricio Augusto contra hostes barbarus magnus virtute magister
militum Spaniae sic semper Hispania tali rectore laetetur/ dum poli rotantur dumque sol circuit orbem anno."
" ... Patήcian Cornitiolus had this made, sent by Mauήce Augustus against the barbarian enernies,
great in virtue, master of the soldiers of Spania.May Hispania always rejoice in such a governor, as
long as the poles turn and the sun orbits the world ..."Jimenez et alii, The Iberian Peninsula, 181. For
discussion see Augusto Prego de Lis, "La inscήpciόn de Cornitiolus del Museo Municipal de
Arqueologia de Cartagena," in Reuniό d'Arq uelogia Cristiana Hispάnica, eds. G. Esparraguera,J. Maria
and Ν. Tena (Barcelona: Institut d'Estudis Catalans, 2000), 383-92.
64 Lifshitz, Political Identity, 370. Byzantium was restήcted to "toeholds."
65 Sauro Gelichi, "Comacchio: Α Lirninal Community in a Nodal Point during the Early Middle
Ages," in Gelichi et al., 150-1.
66 Judith Herrin and Jinty Nelson, eds., Ravenna: Its Role in Earlier Medieval Change and Exchange
(London: Institute ofHistoήcal Research, 2016), 1.
67 Maήa Cristina Carile, "Production, Promotion and Reception: The Visual Culture of Ravenna
between Late Antiquity and the Middle Ages," in Ravenna, 72-4.
68 'Άlla fine del VI secolo il prestigio di Bisanzio era notevole in Occidente" Guillou, LΊtalia bizantina, 228.
69 ''l'installation d'Avares, de Sklavenes et de Bulgares..est unfait incontestable"Andre Guillou, "Migration et
presence slaves en Italie du Vie au Xe siecles," in Guillou, Culture et Societe, 12.
70 But the import ofMaskarinec's City cifSaints post-540, would suggest that there is a conscious effort to liuk
with Greek and Eastern saints as a strategy of association and connection - or so she suggests for Rome.
71 Louth, "Byzantine Empire," 300.
72 For Guillou "nel VII secolo lα popolazione di lingua greca aumenta in misura notevole, senza tuttavia di
menticare cif.fatto il latino: bastino α provarlo, gli elogi tributati negli ambienti romani α papa Leone ΙΙ (682-3)
siciliano per lα sua capacita di parlare ugualmente bene le due lingue. Le sedi, per esempio, di Siracusa e Agrigento
sono occupate in quell'epoca da prelati greci ... "Guillou, LΊtalia bizantina, 258. See also Andrew J.
Ekonomou, Byzantine Rome and the Greek Popes: Eastern Injluences on Rome and the Papacy from Gregory
the Great to Zacharias 590-752 (Plymouth: Lexington, 2009). Gantner is fundamental here for the
situation in the city of Rome and the role of "easterners." Gantner, Diplomatic Repertoire, 313-8.
73 Consentino, Byzantine Sardinia, at 330.He cites both Lucien Fevre, wήting in 1922, who sees the
island as a remote one in contrast to Sicily and Giovanni Lillou who stresses the impact of foreign
212
occupations οη the preservation of an autochthonous identity. See Chήstopher Lillington-Martin,

" Procopius, πάρεδρος/ quaestor, Codex Justinianus, Ι.27 and Belisarius' strategy in the
Mediterranean," in Procopius of Caesarea: Literary and Historical Interpretations, eds. C. Lillington-Martin
and Turquois Procopius (London:Routledge, 2018), 157-85, at 164-6 & 171-6 for discussion of the
strategy of Justinian in respect of islands in the Western Mediterranean (and ultimately Ibeήa).
74 For detail οη the rule of Constans ΙΙ in Sicily see Sarah Davis-Secord, Ulhere Three Worlds Met: Sicily
in the Early Medieval Mediterranean (Ithaca: Cornell UP, 2017), 36-9.
75 Guillou, L'Italia bizantina, 297-8; and Davis-Secord, Three Worlds, 39-41.
76 Brown, Officers, 346.
77 Guillou, L'Italia bizantina, 298, and Davis-Secord, Three Worlds, 40-1.
78 Andre Guillou, " L'ecole dans !Ίtalie byzantine," in Settimane di Studi (Spoleto: CISAM, 1972),
295-7 sets out the career of Gregory.
79 Methodios who was born in Syracuse in 847 learnt grammar, history, calligraphy, and tachygraphy
before his departure for Constantinople. See Guillou, L'ecole dans L'Italie byzantine, 297.
80 Iohannicis was appointed as the secretary to the Exarch because of his ability in both Greek and
Latin. For discussion see Simon Corcoran, "Roman Law inRavenna," in Herrin et al., 172 andJ.M.
Pizarro, Writing Ravenna: The Liber Pontijicalis of Andreas Agnellus (Ann Arbor: UMP, 1995), 75---6.
81 T.S. Brown, "Byzantine Italy c.680-c.876," in NCMH: Vol.II c. 700-c.900, ed. Rosamond
McΚitteήck (Cambήdge: CUP, 1995), 320-48, at 348.
82 Deborah Mauskopf Deliyannis, ed., Agnellus of Ravenna: The Book of the Pontiffi of the Church of
Ravenna (Washington DC: CUAP, 2004), 276-8. The conflict between the Exarch and the
Ravennates under the life ofJohn V (726-744) is interesting in descήbing the Exarch's forces as the
'arrny of the Greeks."
83 Brown, "Byzantine Italy," 333-4 for discussion. See Deliyannis, Agnellus of Ravenna, 284 (c.159).
Here Agnellus also reports the ef!Όrts of Sergius (744-69) to make an alliance with the Venetians.
84 Sauro Gelichi, " Comacchio: Α Liminal Community in a Nodal Point During the Early Middle
Ages," in Venice and its Neighbours, eds. Gelichi and Gasparri, 148. The Pactum Sicardi of 834, an
agreement between the Lombard Sicard of Benevento (832-839) and Andrew ΙΙ of Naples
(834-840) symbolises this freedom of political authoήty. See Ronald Musto, Medieval Naples: Α
Documentary History 400-1000 (New Υork: Italica Press, 2013), 59-63.
85 Barbara Kreutz, Before the Normans: Southern Italy in the Ninth and Tenth Centuries (Philadelphia: UPP,
1991), 1-17; Patricia Skinner, Family Power in Southern Italy: The Duchy of Gaeta and its Neighbours
(Cambήdge: CUP, 1995), 1-4; Patήcia Skinner, Medieval Amaifi and its Diaspora 800-1250 (Oxford:
OUP, 2013), 112-8.
86 Simon Corcoran, "Roman Law inRavenna," in Ravenna, 190, nt. 152.
87 Annamaria Pazienza, 'Άrchival Documents as Narrative: The Sources of the Istoria Veneticorum and
the plea ofRizana," in Venice and Its Neighbours, 49.
88 C. Manaresi, Ι Placiti del Regnum Italiae R
( ome: Tipografia del Senato, 1955), Vol. Ι, nt. 17, 48-56.
For an English render see Charles West, In the Time of the Greeks: The Rizana Dispute and the
Carolingian and Byzantine empires, at www.turbulentpήests.group.shef.ac.uk (accessed 31 Ι 2020);
Francesco Borri, " Neighbours and Relatives: The Plea of Rizana as a Source for North Adήatic
Elites," Mediteπanean Studies 17 (2008): 1-26; Jennifer Davis, Charlemagne's Practice of Empire
(Cambήdge: CUP, 2015), 274-7. Paul Fouracre, "Risano Revisited: Α Step Τοο Far for
Charlemagne," in Cities, Saints and Communities in Early Medieval Europe: Essays in Honour of Alan
Thacker, eds. S. DeGregoήo andR. Kershaw (Turnhout:Brepols, 2020) (forthcoming). My thanks to
Paul Fouracre for sharing a copy of his essay prior to publication.
89 Theo Kolzer, Die Urkunden Ludwigs des Frommen (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2016), 202.
90 Borri, Neighbours and Relatives, 3.
91 Maskarinec, City of Saints, 130-3.
92 Brown, "Byzantine Italy," 328. Brown notes that in 772, for instance, criminals were sent to
Constantinople to be punished, 329. It is worth highlighting, that as early as the pontificate of Sergius
Ι (687-701) that the Papacy produced their own silver coinage. See Vivien Pήgent, 'Ά Stήking
Evolution: The Mint ofRavenna during the Early Middle Ages," in Herrin and Nelson, 157 with
further references. Duήng the pontificate of Sergius, one also notes the failure οη the part of the
imperial protospatharios Zachariah to arrest the Pope in 693. See also, Dmitriev, Religious
Controversy, 18.
93 Brown, "Byzantine Italy," 332-3.
213
Christopher Heath
94 Ίη the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, in the 28th year of the reign of our Lords, Leo and Alexander,
the purple born, crowned by God magnificent and serene emperors." Katheήne L. Jansen, Joanna
Drell and Frances Edwards, eds., Medieval Italy: Texts in Translation (Philadelphia: UPP,
2009), 501-5.
95 Jules Gay, L Ίtalie Meridionale et L'empire Byzantin: Depuis L'avenement de Basile Ijusqu'a La Prise de
Bari par les Normands 867-1071 (Paris: Libraire des Ecoles Franι;:aises d'Athenes et de Rome, 1904),
147-9; Kreutz, Bιifore the Normans, 62-6.
96 One should, however, recall that the empire was welcomed back to Βaή in 875 when the emirate
was extinguished. Ι owe this observation to Dr Gantner.
97 Pierre Toubert, Les Structures du Latium Mediέval: Le Latium Meridional et la Sabine du IXe siecle α lafin
du ΧΙΙ siecle (Roma: Ecole Franι;:aise de Rome, 1973), 939; McCormick, Byzantium and the West,
376; and Brown, "Byzantine Italy," 337.
98 Cavallo, Nicolaj and Magistrale, Chartae Latinae Antiquiores, 62-5 and 84-7-the signature of a
certain Leopardo in ChLA 2 Ι η.16 and ChLA2 Ι η.22.
99 McCormick, The Imperial Edge, 22-3 οη the impact of Greek οη Romance in Italy.
100 Barth puts it his way: "complex poly-ethnic systems ...entail the existence of extensively relevant
value differences and multiple constraints οη status combinations and social participation. Ιη such
systems, the boundary maintaining mechanisms must be highly effective." Fredήk Barth, Ethnic
Groups and Boundaries: The Social Organisation of Culture Di.fference (Long Grove, IL: Waveland Press,
1988), 19.
214
PART 111
Macro and Micro Identities:

Religious, Regional, and Ethnic
Identities, and lnternal Others
Taylor & Francis
12
OVERLAPPING IDENTITIES AND
INDIVIDUAL AGENCY ΙΝ
ΒΥΖΑΝΤΙΝΕ SOUTHERN ΙΤALY
Joseph Western
More than once, scholars have used the image of a mosaic to descήbe the complexity of
1
medieval southern Italy. The story of the peήod in which the Byzantines controlled much of
southern Italy from the late ninth until the middle of the eleventh century involves a diverse set
of characters, who, like individual tesserae, form a larger image. Α more complete under
standing of these characters requires recognizing how they understood themselves and how
they viewed their places in the world. These investigations must consider the interplay of ethnic
and religious identities, as well as political allegiance-all of which are forms of identity that
overlap with and affect one another. Ιη the same way that a viewer's appreciation of a mosaic is
perspectival, recognizing the value of both the complete image and the intήcate nuances of the
individual pieces, so the picture of southern Italy is enήched when studies of this multi
dimensional region appreciate its people's overlapping identities and the connections be
tween them.
Medieval southern Italy, located in the centre of a Mediterranean region noted for the
interchange of political, religious, and ethnic influences interests histoήans in part because of its
diversity. These influences connected the inhabitants of southern Italy to larger communities
that shaped the identities of its members. Υet these communities were dynamic rather than
monolithic, comprised of individuals who often expeήenced additional and sometimes com
peting pressures οη their decision-making.
Southern Italy also interests historians due to its source record. Anthony Kaldellis recently
observed that "Constantinopolitan sources pay little attention to Italy. Οη the other hand, we
have more pήmary documents fi-om there than from any other region of the empire."2
Charters, coins, inscήptions, letters, chronicles, local annals, and hagiographies offer frag
mentary glimpses of the individuals who travelled to or lived in this region during the two
centuήes of Byzantine control. They comprise a source record thinly dispersed across the
population, such that limited knowledge can be ascertained about a large group of individuals.
For many of these figures, all that survives, for example, is a signature οη a charter or a single
mention in an annalistic entry.
The availability of these types of sources makes prosopography a useful tool for studying
Byzantine southern Italy since the collection of isolated references to specific figures provides a
ήch network of individuals. This includes both elites and commoners, providing depth and
ήchness of perspective. Paul Magdalino's exploration of the intersection between identity and
DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-15 217

Joseph Western
prosopography noted that the latter "is an important analytical tool which literally reduces
history to atoms, for a prosopon is an atomon, the indivisible unit of human existence." 3 Υet
prosopography also "deals with the connections of individuals in a group." 4 It takes isolated
people and looks for linkages between them. Ιη this way, it naturally emphasises group identity.
The conclusions drawn from prosopographical analysis are inherently tied to the categoήes
of information that scholars extract from the sources, and these categoήes dorninate discussions
of group identity outside of the prosopographical approach as well. While this is just a reality
imposed by the circumstances of surviving evidence, it categoήses complex individuals into
discrete groups based οη tiny pieces of information. Ethnicity and religion are, along with sex
and language, the main markers of identity for individuals in the wήting of the history of
southern Italy.
These groups transcended the political boundaήes of state, province, or city and shaped the
worldviews of premodern people, just as they do today. Histoήans utilise group identities not
only to help tell the story of southern Italy but to link the history of this region to the larger
framework of Western medieval or Byzantine history-to assess in what ways southern Italy
was "typical" or "exceptional." Ιη this way, the study of identity both shapes and is shaped by
the stoήes that histoήans tell about the past. The markers of identity chosen for analysis depend
in part οη the categoήzation of the information preserved by the source record, and also οη
their suitability to help make sense of a person, event, group, trend, or peήod in larger context.
The types of stoήes that histoήans find relevant or meaningful shape the study of identity in the
past as well.
While the settlement of people groups had historic geographical ties, there were ηο closed
borders in southern Italy, and members of different ethnicities and religious expressions could
interrningle and cross between the porous boundaήes of states. Ιη fact, medieval southern Italy
had sizeable populations of Latins, that is, those whose ancestors had lived in southern Italy
dating back to the Roman peήod, as well as Lombards, Arabs, Slavs, Jews, those of Greek
ancestry, and other easterners, such as Armenians.
Υet ethnicity is not a firm category. Dion Smythe wήtes that ethnic identity is not a black
and white matter, but rather "a spectrum of shades of grey."5 Placing histoήcal figures into
groups based οη their ancestry is itself a constructed oversimplification of a complex reality.
Broad labels smooth over a diversity formed organically over time, both consciously and
subconsciously. Linda Safi-an's study of art and identity in southern Italy's Salento Peninsula
offers the rerninder that ethnicity is not the same as cultural expression. Cultural identity in
cludes ethnicity, which is itself a construction based οη "genuine or imagined kinship." 6 Over
the course of the Middle Ages, ethnic terms became caήcatures or polernical devices as much as
descήptors.7 Barbara Kreutz noted, 'Όver the centuries southern Italy had been built up of layer
upon layer of diverse peoples ...As each new ethnic wave arήved, it had washed over but surely
never obliterated the population already there." 8 Absent DNA tests, ethnicity in the premodern
world is difficult for histoήans to assess, and explicit observations recorded by histoήcal sources
are relatively rare.
Scholars of premodern identity often turn to the use of names as a marker of ethnicity. Ιη a
context characteήsed by fi-agmentary evidence, the names of individuals are as much as we
know today about many of the people who lived in medieval southern Italy. Names have a
certain etymological and historical context, and from this evidence scholars assert the ethnic
backgrounds of those that bear them. If anything can be posited about many individuals in the
source record, it is their ethnicity based οη the oήgin of their names. Even so, Michael
McCorrnick urges caution in this approach, noting instances in which individuals of different
ethnic backgrounds who lived in the Byzantine empire changed their names, adopting
218
Overlapping Identities
Byzantine (i.e., Greek) fonns.9 It is impossible to gauge how common or isolated this practice
was, however.
Even when names cannot pinpoint ethnicity accurately, they can often suggest spoken
language. Predominantly Greek-speaking Calabήa (and the Salento Peninsula) fonned a distinct
language region fi-om predominantly Latin-speaking areas such as Apulia or Campania. There
were certainly ηο defined linguistic borders in southern Italy, and of course, speaking a tongue
natively does not preclude anyone from speaking more than one fluently. Even so, language
serves, sometimes out of necessity and other times consciously, as a marker of ethnicity or
religious expression.
The inhabitants of southern Italy expressed several fonns of religious belief Islam, Latin
Chήstianity, Greek Chήstianity, and Judaism being the pήmary broad categoήes. These ca
tegoήes, while dominant in historical analyses of the region, suggest a uniformity that the local
religious diversity does not fully support. Ecclesiastical leaders, whose wήtings have often
provided much of the source mateήal for the study of religion in this region, give the im
pression of more uniformity in religious practice than that which actually existed.10 This di
versity, which was characteήstic of early medieval and Mediteπanean religion in general,
complicates naπatives of Chήstians vs. Muslims or Greek vs. Latin Chήstianity. Religious
expression was not fixed throughout a person's life and could change through conversion or
intennarήage.11
As with ethnicity, the source record often limits scholars to interpreting religious expression
based οη nothing more than the name of an individual. Ιη the same way that group identity
emphasises connections between individuals, certain categoήes of identity also share connec
tions between them. For example, even though language and religion mark two noncongruent
groupings of individuals, particularly when the ecclesiastical languages of Greek and Latin are
involved, there are close ties between certain religious expressions and these languages.
Someone in the tenth century with a Greek name is a Greek Chήstian. Scholars then make
further assumptions οη this limited data, such as assuming that this "Greek" Chήstian is loyal to
the Byzantine state.
This last step, attήbuting political allegiance to ethnic or religious connections, requires
further attention. This model is surely coπect in most instances, but it infers a complex in
dividual's identity οη data that could be limited to a single signature in Greek scήpt as a witness
to a charter. What mattered more to the Byzantine administration than ethnic or religious
identity was that its subjects paid taxes and did not rebel and that its neighbours maintained
peaceful relations and did not interfere with foreign policy. For the administration, insofar as it
attempted to forge or shape a political identity among its Italian subjects, it was as a means to
these ends.
The links between political allegiance and ethnic or religious identity fonn an interesting
backdrop to the story of medieval southern Italy duήng the Byzantine peήod. The overlapping
influences οη the region created an environment in which members of various ethnic and
religious identities lived in terήtory claimed by Constantinople or lived οη its borders. Trying
to understand the relationships between these different expressions of identity, based οη the
infonnation about individuals and the construction of cultural forms of identity provided by a
fragmentary source record, suggests that the connection between ethnic and religious identity
was not as closely tied to political allegiance as one might suspect. Individual calculations of self
interest and individual opportunity were often profoundly influential and resulted from
overlapping and sometimes conflicting roles a single person might play.
Even so, these categoήes of analysis shape the histoήcal interpretation of southern Italy. The
region can be seen as an arena pitting Greeks vs. Latins, Chήstians vs. Muslims, and Gennanic
219
Joseph Western
Lombards and Saxons νs. Byzantines. The history of medieval southern Italy is, of course, all of
these things at vaήous times and places. It is also much more, a fact which stands out with even
greater sharpness when analysis moves closer to the level of the individual human actor. Ι do not
wish to assert that connections of ethnic and religious identity were unimportant to people who
lived there or that they did not play large roles in forrning their worldviews, which in turn
shaped the way individuals navigated their world. Of course, those influences were profound.
Rather, Ι would offer a rerninder that the source record only partially reveals the competing
influences that guided but did not limit the individual agency of those we study. Identity cannot
be reduced to a single factor or two, nor should we expect it to be expressed with uniform
consistency by individual human beings, and this suggests a degree of caution should be taken
by scholars willing to understand the region.
Southern Italy ίη Context

Understanding identity in Byzantine southern Italy is complicated by the challenges of un
derstanding identity in any period (including our own) but also by the multifaceted historical
development of the region, with overlapping ethnic and religious influences and a variety of
active state actors vying for terήtoήal control. Medieval southern Italy does not hold a
monopoly οη histoήcal complexity of course. All regions and peήods have a complexity unique
to them, stemming fi-om the great diversity of human individuality, interactions between in
dividuals, the effects of geography, and other non-human components of the world. Ενeη so,
borderlands (understood politically with respect to the edges of states) expeήence a complexity
all their own as regions where more uniform expressions of identity overlap and interrnix with
others. 12 Α bήef geographical and histoήcal background will illustrate this reality.
The term "southern Italy," like many geographical designations, is a construction that
histoήans use in order to talk about a region that is geographically nuanced in its own ήght.
Calabήa forms the southwestern part of the Italian peninsula, its rugged mountains confining
most of its largest cities to the coasts and offeήng wilderness to ascetics who gave the region a
vibrant monastic life in the medieval peήod. Calabήa differed significantly from Apulia, the
region forming the eastern portion of southern Italy. Apulia's coastal plain faced the Adήatic,
which separated Italy fi-om (or connected it to, as was often the case) the Balkans. Το the north
of Calabήa, and to the northwest of Apulia, the region of Campania sloped from the Apennine
Mountains down toward the TyrrhenianSea, the portion of the Mediteπanean just to the north
of Sicily.
Until the fifth century, southern Italy had, of course, been integrated into the Roman
Empire. 13 The disintegration of the Western Roman Empire ruptured this connection, but the
campaign of Belisaήus in the 530s brought the area once again under Roman (Byzantine)
authoήty, though now political control was to be exercised from Constantinople. Additional
changes in the sixth and seventh centuries reinforced the break with the past. The arήval of the
Germanic Lombards into Italy changed the composition of society, particularly in Apulia.
Lombard settlers became significant parts of local populations. 14 The Lombards exercised au
thority in the south from Benevento, which became the centre of a duchy under the authoήty
of the Lombard capital of Pavia. Warfare and plague led to the collapse of existing economic
and ecclesiastical networks and the abandonment of numerous cities in the South. 15
Constantinople made a renewed attempt to maintain Byzantine authoήty in Italy in the
660s, as Constans ΙΙ governed the empire for half a decade from theSicilian city ofSyracuse. By
the end of the seventh century, that city had become the capital of the Byzantine Theme
(province) ofSicily, which included Calabria οη the mainland. This refortification of Byzantine
220
authority in the centralMediteπanean resulted in an influx ofGreek-speaking impeήal subjects

from the East to southern Italy. Υet rnilitary concerns in the East during the seventh century
occupied Byzantine attention, and Constantinople was unable to prevent the Lombards'
continued expansion and consolidation of control οη the mainland. Matters worsened for
Constantinople in the eighth century when the Lombards captured Ravenna, the centre of
Byzantine authoήty in northern Italy. Now only scattered urban areas in the south remained
loyal to Constantinople.
The churches of Rome and Constantinople also expeήenced growing conflict, as claims of
authority, church practice, and church teaching slowly began to dήνe a wedge between them.
Emperor Leo 111 reassigned the ecclesiastical provinces of Sicily, Calabria, and Illyήcum from
the authoήty of the bishop of Rome to that of the bishop of Constantinople, splitting southern
Italy into two ecclesiastical spheres of influence. Chήstians in Sicily and Calabria now looked to
the Patήarch of Constantinople and became integrated into the Greek ecclesiastical sphere,
while Apulia and Campania remained under the bishop ofRome and Latin-ήte Chήstianity. As
a result of these developments, and because the changing balance of power in the region, Rome
increasingly looked northward to the Franks rather than eastward to Constantinople, speeding
the divergence of the churches of Rome and Constantinople. At the invitation of the papacy,
the Franks fi-om north of the Alps became active in Italy, captuήng the capital of the Lombard
kingdom of Pavia in 774. Consequently, the Lombards ofBenevento became independent.
Ιη addition to the threat posed by the Lombards, the Aghlabid Arabs of North Afήca
challenged Byzantine authoήty throughout the ninth century. Beginning in 827, Arab armies
crossed into Sicily and made steady progress in wresting the island fromByzantine control. By
878, they had captured the regional capital of Syracuse. The Arabs would govern Sicily from
Palermo. Independent bands ofMuslims raided mainland Italy and occasionally took cities, one
example resulting in the foπnation of an independent emirate in the Adήatic city of Βaή in
Apulia. Thus, fi-om the sixth through the ninth centuries, Constantinople's political control in
Italy shrank as Lombard, Frankish, and Arab states expanded their own control over the pe
ninsula. Population declined in southern Italy and changed in composition, leading to a dis
ruption of the urban and ecclesiastical networks. At the highest levels of the church,
competition led to fi-actured unity.
Ιη 880, Byzantine Emperor Basil 1 (r. 867-86) launched a successful military expedition to
re-establish Constantinople's authoήty in southern Italy, achieving the restoration ofByzantine
control, which numerous Byzantine attempts over the past decades had failed to do. Over the
course of the next six years, Byzantine commanders managed to confine Arab control in
mainland Italy to an isolated camp οη the western coast, which would be eliminated a gen
eration later. Byzantine armies restored imperial authoήty over much of Apulia, which became
the Theme of Longobardia, and Calabήa.
Ιη the last decade of the ninth century and the first part of the tenth, the Byzantines con
solidated their authority in southern Italy and attempted to press their borders northward at the
expense of the Lombard principalities, while the Lombard pήnces sought to exert their au
thoήty in lands claimed by the Byzantines in northern Apulia. Sicilian Muslims raided coastal
Calabήa, occasionally sending expeditions inland. Meanwhile, both Constantinople (in
Calabήa) andRome (in Apulia and Campania) slowly rebuilt the fractured episcopal network in
the south to match the region's demographic revival. Calabήa, especially, was home to a vibrant
monastic life, partly fuelled by the immigration of monks from Sicily, who fled to the mainland
to escape the Arab conquest.
Ιη the last decades of the tenth century, Saxon armies led by the Ottonian emperors attacked
Byzantine cities in the south. Claiming to caπy the impeήal legacy of ancient Rome, the
221
Joseph Western
Gennan emperors asserted their ήght to govern the entire Italian peninsula. 16 By the turn of the
eleventh century, however, they had been unable to make pennanent terήtoήal gains at the
expense of the Byzantines. The tenth century also witnessed local revolts against impeήal
authoήty in Calabήa and Apulia. Constantinople, still largely preoccupied with more pressing
concerns in the East, sent whatever troops to Italy that it could spare, but these expeditions
were limited in both frequency and effectiveness.
The eleventh century witnessed, first, the waxing of Byzantine control in southern Italy,
followed by a long and ultimately pennanent waning. The arήval of the Nonnans would prove
to be fatal for Byzantine authority. As the Normans seized Sicily from Muslim control, they also
conquered mainland southern Italy. Thus, throughout the early Middle Ages, the historical
landscape often shifted, quickly in tenns of politics and more slowly in terms of culture and
language. 17
The profound ethnic, religious, and political (not to mention economic and cultural)
changes shaped southern Italy into a diverse region of intermixing influences οη the identities of
those who lived under Byzantine governance or οη its borders. Michael McCormick has ex
plored whether these overlapping influences resulted in an Italo-Byzantine identity distinctive
to the region. He identifies instances in which outward appearance seems to have been an
obvious differentiator between local and outsider. Components of this identity would have
included dress and grooming. McCormick notes that regions in Italy had distinctive name
stocks that differentiated them fi-om other regions, even within areas of Italy histoήcally in
fluenced by Byzantine presence, like the Veneto.18 He also highlights the distinct possibility
that those who spoke Greek in southern Italy may have had a distinct regional accent, given the
likelihood of that region's Doήc influence.19 Additionally, he notes the distinctive regional
Greek book scήpt characteristic of texts fi-om southern Italy. He even, though tentatively,
suggests possible genetic markers present in southern Italy that may have differentiated Italo
Byzantines living there from their local neighbours.20 His analysis shows how markers of
identity "bound Italy to the empire's other provinces and to the capital, even as they demar
cated its population from the fonner Byzantine lands which lay next door." 21
Identity and Political Allegiance

These distinctions would not necessaήly have disposed the residents of southern Italy toward
Constantinople, however. This prompts the question of the extent to which the impeήal
government tried to impose a "Byzantine" identity onto its subjects in southern Italy by uti
lizing ethnic and religious identities to connect the region and its inhabitants with the rest of the
empire in the ninth to the eleventh centuήes. 22 The answer seems to be that it did not happen
to the extent that may be supposed.
Certainly, the ethnic composition of southern Italy did change duήng the peήod in which
Constantinople exercised control over southern Italy. This change occurred in part as the
populations of both Apulia and Calabήa rebounded from the demographic catastrophes of the
sixth and seventh centuries. Jean-Marie Martin asserts that while Byzantium provided a re
ligious and legal framework for encσuraging the expansion of a Greek-speaking population, it was
the local dynamism of southern Italy and Sicily that is largely responsible for this demographic
change.23 Although there were several large-scale imperially organised resettlements fi-om the
East to southern Italy that brought new inhabitants to depopulated areas, they did not account
for the overall trend of demographic increase. Ghislaine Noye suggests that the increasing
Hellenization of southern Italy (particularly Calabήa) did not result from deliberate impeήal
attempts to forge identity. She suggests that while the region exhibits certain aspects of
222
Byzantine culture and life, it did not always embrace the practices and adrninistration from
Constantinople.24
Constantinople's role in deliberately shaping religious identity is a bit more difficult to as
certain. Religious identity could certainly influence political identity, especially in the case of
the Byzantine Empire, where there was a strong connection between church and state. The
courtship of the nascent Bulgaήan church by bothRome and Constantinople in the 860s, οη
the eve of the Byzantine resurgence in southern Italy, highlights the close ties that could exist
between ecclesiastical affiliation and political allegiance οη the ecclesiastical borderland between
Greek and Latin Chήstianity.25The question of whether the new Bulgaήan church would look
to the patriarch of Rome or Constantinople was interwoven with concerns of whether the
Bulgars would be a more or less arnicable neighbour to Constantinople. Both Latin andGreek
rnissionaήes competed for influence, while the khan, Βοήs, sought greater prornises fi-om each
side. Each side had a strong sense that ecclesiastical affinity strengthened political allegiance.
This ecclesiastical competition extended to the shores of the Adήatic, as both Rome and
Constantinople sought to increase influence with the pήnces of the Croats duήng the next
decade.26
The most powerful assertion of a deliberate attempt by the Byzantine government to use the
church to increase political allegiance in southern Italy was made by the ernissary Liudprand of
Cremona, who visitedConstantinople in 968 οη behalf of the HolyRoman Emperor Otto Ι. Ιη
the report of his embassy, he asserted that the Byzantine emperor had little regard for Latin
Chήstianity and that the capital was banning Latin liturgies throughout its terήtoήes in Italy.27
This report has continued to weigh heavily οη the narrative of ecclesiastical competition despite
acknowledgement of its polernical nature.28
Constantinople did strengthen the Greek church in the West between the eighth and
eleventh centuries. The greatest example of this comes from the eighth century, with the
transfer of the ecclesiastical provinces ofSicily, Calabήa, and Illyήcum to thejuήsdiction of the
patήarch ofConstantinople. This move strengthened theGreek church and weakened the Latin
church by removing the considerable ecclesiastical revenues of these provinces from the coffers
ofRome.29
The number ofGreek bishoprics in southern Italy increased duήng the Byzantine peήod. Ιη
Greek-speaking Calabήa, Cassano was raised to episcopal status in the first half of the tenth
century. Otranto, which had previously been an autocephalous archbishopήc dependentjust οη
Constantinople, received suffragans in Lucania, at the instep ofitaly's boot, asTursi, Tήcaήco,
Acerenza, Matera, andGravina became bishopήcs.30 Out of those five, onlyTursi was likely a
predominantlyGreek city. 31 This extension ofGreek ecclesiastical authoήty in Latin-speaking
areas has been seen as an ecclesiastical offensive οη the part of Constantinople.32 Certainly
Liudprand sought to convince his audience that it was.
At any rate, ecclesiastical policy was not an effective guarantee of political allegiance. For
example, in 886, several years after the Byzantines captured Taranto from the Arabs, the
Byzantine patήcian Gregory sought to fill the vacant episcopal seat of the city with a Greek
candidate. He was vehemently opposed by the local population, while Pope Stephen V wrote
to Gregory, defending the city as Rome's turf 33 The city received a Latin bishop. Almost a
century later, when Taranto had once again been a Byzantine city for decades,Rome elevated
the bishop ofTaranto to archiepiscopal rank at a time in which the Ottonian kings of the north
were increasingly active in southern Italy, which they sought to claim as their own. Υet despite
this ecclesiastical favor showed toTaranto byRome, when Otto ΙΙ appeared before the city in
982, the gates were baπed against him. 34 Ecclesiastical offensives by either side were not at all
guaranteed to successfully sway the political allegiance of local populations.
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Joseph Western
Changes such as the expansion of bishoprics in southern Italy fit a narrative of ecclesiastical
competition, but they also fit a narrative of demographic expansion and reorganization. These
two narratives are not inherently linked. As the populations of southern Italy rebounded from
the devastation of the sixth and seventh centuήes, increased urbanization led to a need for a
more well-developed hierarchical structure and the growth of the number of bishopήcs. Thus,
in southern Italy, there is little evidence outside of several high-profile events that suggest
Constantinople leveraged ecclesiastical structure to create aByzantine identity in southern Italy.
Instead, the high-level competitive rhetoήc between Rome and Constantinople, and events
such as the schism of1054, help to suggest the naπative of ecclesiastical competition in southern
Italy.
Certainly, the Byzantines did attempt to foster political allegiance in southern Italy. Rather
than relying heavily οη ethnic connections or using religious identity to connect the region
with the capital, they used other means to promote political allegiance. The administration
brought local leaders to the capital or offered them refuge, either as a way to overawe them
with the size, wealth, and splendour of the capital, or to isolate them from local affairs. It
granted imperial titles to important local figures, legislated, and showed force by sending large
armies to provide secuήty from outside destabilizing raiders.
The surest way forConstantinople to "Byzantinise" the region was by maintaining a strong
military presence there. Insecuήty was a primary concern for the people who lived in this
volatile region οη the edge of empires.35 Α good example of this comes from the region of
Campania in the ninth century, where the coastal duchies of Naples, Amalfi, and Gaeta
competed both with each other and with the Lombard principalities of Salerno, Capua, and
Benevento. Κreutz noted that "Campanian deference toByzantium waxed and waned in direct
relation to cuπent perceptions ofByzantium's strength, as demonstrated through victoήes over
the Arabs." 36 Local rulers were more likely to identify with Byzantium, as evidence οη both
coinage and in charters shows, when Constantinople was able to be militaήly useful. Kreutz
gives the example ofNaples issuing coinage with the emperor's name in the 880s asByzantine
troops became involved in Campanian affairs.37
While ethnicity and religious identity are often some of the few pieces of information the
histoήan knows or can suπnise about an individual in the source record, the links between
ethnic and ecclesiastical identity and political allegiance were not fused tightly together. Cases
that run counter to what one might naturally assume, those in which these identities did not
result in political allegiance, can serve as a helpful reminder that identity is complex and often
affected by local pήoήties or a self-interest shaped by influences οη identity that competed with
ethnic or religious connections. These underlying influences οη how a person understands
himself and his relation to the rest of the world often go unrecorded by the sources, but the
history ofByzantine southern Italy is full of instances of actions that contradict the expectations
that link ethnic and religious identity with political allegiance and its behaviour.Not only did
groups and individuals shaήng ethnicity and religious affiliation fight among themselves, but
they were willing to ally with those outside of the group against those with whom they shared
these aspects of identity.
One example comes from the very beginning of the Byzantine peήod. Shortly after the
combined force of the Lombards and Franks had driven the Arabs from Bari in 871 and
captured the city, the Lombards of Benevento had a major falling out with the Frankish king
Louis ΙΙ.38 They indeed impήsoned Louis and then expelled him fi-om southern Italy, taking
224
sole possession ofBaή. Υet just five years later, when Arabs based at Taranto proved menacing,
the Lombard gestald who governed Βaή handed over control of the city to the Byzantine
commander stationed at Otranto, rather than to the Lombard pήnce in Benevento, thereby
stepping across lines of ethnic affiliation. 39
Conflicts in Campania in the next decade offer more evidence. By the 880s, the once
unified Lombard principality of Benevento had been split into three competing terήtoήes:
Benevento, Capua, and Salerno. The duchies ofNaples, Gaeta, and Amalfi, each with ancestral
connections to Constantinople, strove to remain independent and prosperous. As these polities
struggled with each other, they sought to use both Byzantines and Arabs as allies. Ιη some cases,
these Christian states permitted bands of Muslim soldiers to base themselves in their terήtoήes.
Here the Arabs operated both for their own benefit attacking and looting Italian towns and
taking slaves, and also οη behalfof Chήstian states as mercenaήes to weaken and destabilise their
Chήstian neighbours. Gaeta, for example, saw the potential for Arabs as an effective buffer
against its neighbour Capua, inviting them to settle οη the borders of their terήtory in the late
ninth century.40
All this was occurήng as Byzantium subjected increasing amounts ofterήtory in Calabήa and
Apulia to its control. The Byzantines increased military capacity and presence in Italy made
them a desirable ally for many of the competing political entities in the region. Pήnce Guaimar
of Salerno travelled to Constantinople and received an honoήfic title and a contingent of
impeήal troops to oppose the terήtoήal advances ofhis neighbour, Amalfi.41 Guaimar's request
for aid was successful, and he returned to Campania with a detachment of Byzantine soldiers
and the Byzantine title of patήcian. 42 Lombard leaders had become more common in
Constantinople as Byzantium's presence in southern Italy had expanded. When Radelchis ΙΙ
was ousted as the Prince of Benevento by his brother in 885, he had fled to the Byzantine
capital. While he did not receive impeήal help to restore him to his position, he did receive a
grant of land in the Byzantine-controlled Salento peninsula, and a charter of the same year
indicates that he was in the company of a Byzantine patήcian in southern Italy.43 Around the
same time, Bishop Athanasius ΙΙ, who governed Naples, also requested and received Byzantine
troops, which he used to attack his neighbour Capua.44 The Lombard chronicler, Erchempert,
reports that Byzantine and Arab troops fought side by side against a mixed force of Lombard
and Arab soldiers.45 Α rnixed force of Lombard and Neapolitan soldiers also marched against
Lombard Benevento in 887.46
This activity of the 880s followed a peήod of intense campaigning by Pope John VIII
(872-82) to oppose Arab Muslim influence in southern Italy in the prior decade. Ιη 877, John
managed to get the leaders of the Campanian duchies, as well as Capua and Salerno, to agree to
an alliance against the Arabs.47 The next year, the pope left for the kingdoms of northern
Europe to try and garner more support to oppose Arab rnilitary activity in Italy. Not only was
he unsuccessful in his diplomacy, but the parties ofhis Italian alliance refused to abide by their
agreement. Each of the Campanian duchies continued to have individual agreements with the
Arabs. John would excommunicate the populations of Naples and Amalfi.48 Α lucrative trade
relationship with the Sicilian Muslims proved to be more tantalizing for these Chήstian cities
than ecclesiastical censure.
Even examples fi-om this single decade in southern Italy illustrate incredibly complex re
lationships. Ethnic and religious identities were not always the identities that motivated political
decision-making. And while this peήod is unusually well-documented and stands out for the
number of relevant examples, it is certainly not isolated in this regard. Trade between Amalfi
and the Arabs of Sicily, for example, continued into the eleventh century.49 Κreutz noted the
pragmatism of the leaders of this region in terms of religious cooperation, wήting that most
225
Joseph Western
secular authoήties viewed the Muslims as enemies based οη their actions rather than their
beliefs, which "would likely have seemed only slightly stranger than some approaches to
Chήstianity encountered by south Italians." 50
Much interaction and therefore much conflict occur within ethnic and religious commu
nities. Revolts, of course, often pit members of similar ethnicities and religious expressions
against each other, offeήng reminders of the limitations of these influences.Byzantine southern
Italy had its share of these. Perhaps the most consequential was the appeal made by aByzantine
naval commander named Euphemios to the Aghlabid Arabs ofNorth Mήca to invade Italy in
order to support his bid for authoήty.51 The fact that Euphemios went to ally himself with the
Arabs against his fellow Byzantines is indicative of a disregard for ethnic and religious con
nections. This was not an isolated phenomenon. Ιη 997, there was a rebellion againstByzantine
authoήty in Apulia led by Smaragdus, a figu re ofLatin origin. He made a tentative alliance with
52
an Arab commander before the alliance broke apart.
We can add the examples of several figures who are more overtly ecclesiastical in vocation to
those already cited. Ιη some ways, the division between Latin and Greek Chήstianity might be
the place where group identity should be most evident, considering the close connection
between church and state inByzantium. Υet there are numerous examples where the divisions
do not seem to have mattered much. As Valarie Ramseyer noted, "People in the early Middle
Ages did not belong to a religion as much as they practiced one." 53 Scholars have noted the lack
of animosity between Greek and Latin Chήstians in southern Italy, even as high-level eccle
siastical rhetoήc suggested otherwise.54
We see evidence for this in the travels of Greek ascetics from southern Italy who were
welcomed by Latin Chήstians. The most well-known monk from southern Italy in the tenth
century was Nilos of Rossano. Born around 910 in Calabήa, he became a monk at the age of
30, consecrated at a monastery in the Lombard teπitory of Salerno. As Arab raids destabilised
Calabήa, Nilos moved north into Lombard terήtory, welcomed by Prince Pandolf Ι at Capua
around 980, at a time in which Pandolf's ally, Otto Π, was invading Byzantine terήtory.55
Although he would debate withLatins about church practices and matters of theology, over the
course of his life, Nilos would advise high-level figures ranging from aByzantine strategos to the
Duke of Gaeta, the Lombard Pήnce of Benevento, and the Holy Roman Emperor, Otto ΠΙ.
This Greek monk travelled easily among the Latins and was welcomed by them.
Other Greek-speakers from southern Italy also found a home among theLatins at the end of
the tenth century.John Philagathos served as the abbot of theBenedictine Abbey ofNonantola
before being made Pope John XVI. Like Nilos, he was also born near Rossano and had been
recruited by Empress Theophano to the court of the Holy Roman Emperor, Otto Π, where he
served as the tutor to the young Otto ΠΙ. Likewise, Gregory of Cassano was a Greek priest who
became a monk in Salerno before finally settling near Aachen, at Burtscheid, while a monk
namedBasilios from Calabria served as abbot ofMontecassino in the eleventh century.56 Α less
well-known instance is the case of Leo, a Greek bishop in Calabria, who sided with Otto Π
duήng his invasion of Byzantine teπitory and was forced to flee in order to escape charges of
treason.57 Leo settled in Liege, where he remained until his death. These Greek-speaking
natives of southern Italy integrated easily into the Latin-speaking world of Latin-ήte
Chήstianity.
Latin churchmen also found support among Byzantine officials. Basil, the strategos of
Longobardia, confirmed possessions of the Latin bishop ofBenevento throughoutLongobardia
in 938.58 Ιη 956, theByzantine strategosMaήanos Argyros gave Abbot Aligern ofMontecassino
a pήvilege to travel throughout Byzantine Apulia to reclaim properties belonging to his
monastery.59 Byzantine authoήties granted similar pήvileges in the beginning of the eleventh
226
century as well. 60 These instances show that these administrative figures did not operate ac
cording to binary rules when it came to ecclesiastical affiliation.
Conclusion
These few examples do not argue for a general environment of religious tolerance or a world in
which cultural identities were iπelevant. Οη the contrary, many examples could be marshalled
to show strong coπelation between ethnicity, ecclesiastical affiliation, and political allegiance.
Nor do I wish to imply that individuals were equally likely to cooperate with those who did not
share these aspects of their identities as they were with those with whom they did. Ethnic and
religious similaήties certainly strengthened connections and understanding between members of
those groups. Similarly, 1 do not wish to assert that the churches ofRome and Constantinople
never sought to expand their ecclesiastical reach in southern Italy at the expense of the other or,
for example, that ethnic Lombards living in Byzantine-controlled terήtory would not have
preferred to live under the authoήty of Lombard pήnces. Studies of ethnicity and ecclesiastical
affiliation contήbute ήchly to the study of medieval southern Italy, helping present-day scholars
understand important facets of how the people that they study understood themselves and their
places in the world.
However, as has been shown in this chapter, individual identity cannot be easily reduced to
one or two factors and that the connections between these factors cannot be assumed. While
this is by ηο means a novel argument, it is an important one to remember when using categoήes
of group identity to make sense of the past. This is especially true when the boundaήes of
groups formed by ethnic connections and religious practice are less fixed than they are often
seen to be, and individuals are placed into those groups sometimes οη very limited data. The
multifaceted complexity of individual lives does not survive entirely down to the present, and
identities always overlap within individuals, who could embrace or distance themselves from
group identities as it suited them.
While the Byzantine government certainly wished for its subjects to identify themselves with
the imperial capital, this desire served a very practical purpose. The ultimate goal for the im
peήal administration was that people in southern Italy did what they were supposed to do: pay
taxes, not rebel, and defend themselves (and the land) against invaders. This expectation was
placed οη all subjects, regardless of ethnicity or religious expression. Constantinople's ability to
provide the framework for allowing individual expressions of power, such as by granting
Byzantine titles to local leaders, encouraged allegiance to the capital and allowed those that bore
them to display an element of Byzantine identity. Discussing identity in the aggregate ne
cessaήly oversimplifies reality, even if it is often a helpful oversimplification. It is important
when discussing group identity, however, that the group only exists as an aggregation of in
dividuals, and to recognise that the people of the past were as remarkably complex as those in
the present, in whom competing identities play larger and smaller roles over time throughout
their lives depending οη context or situation. Ιη the study of southern Italy in the early Middle
Ages, the markers of identity that are available for histoήans to use in their explanatory quests
form only part of the influence οη the identities of the figures who lived there. As one moves to
the level of the individual actor, easy categoήzation becomes more difficult. People are im
perfect and do not always make decisions according to fixed rules. The histoήcal evidence that
survives to record the actions of these individuals from the past does not allow us to see this
intricacy very often. We should not imagine the complexity to have been absent for those
whom we study, however. Α thin histoήcal record should not lead us to assume a lack of depth
in these fi gures.
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Joseph Western
We must keep the generalizations of group identity in constant conversation with the
realities of individual actions. Some of the sources οη which we rely were produced by figures
for whom a particular aspect of their identity dominated their worldviews.61 It is important
both to examine these biases and to recognise that those about whom they wήte may not have
been as consistent. So too should scholars take care in presuming certain categoήes of identity
necessaήly overlap. While strong coπelations may link ethnic communities with religious
expressions or political allegiance, individual actions are a product of individual decisions. The
individual may be an atomon, but he or she is not an automaton.
Often expressions of group-identity say as much, if not more, about what a person is not, or
wishes not to be, as it defines a person positively. The eleventh-century hagiographical Life rif
St. Nilos rif Rossano includes the following story, often cited in discussions of cultural identity in
southern Italy.62 Ιη the anecdote, Nilos picked his way through the rubble-strewn streets of the
southern Italian city where he had been born, a town that now lay in ruins, its buildings in
vaήous states of collapse, the result of a powerful earthquake. Not wishing to be recognised, he
collected a discarded wolfskin and slipped it over his head and shoulders and made his way
through the streets. As he went, he was followed by a pack of children, who threw stones and
hurled insults at him οη account of his appearance. 'Ήey, you, Bulgaήan! Armenian! Frank!"
they shouted. The children who heckle Nilos cannot positively identify him. They do,
however, confidently assert his alteήty. He (so they think) is not one of them, (mis)identifying
him as an outsider. The story (whether it is true or not) suggests that even contemporaήes
found identity difficult to assess. Individuals could take steps to hide or change their identities,
making it difficult for interpreters with limited information at their disposal to understand them.
The youths in the story would have gained a different understanding ofNilos had they observed
his actions. The writer of the Life concludes the anecdote by following Nilos to Rossano's
cathedral, where the monk bowed his head before a statue of the Theotokos. Ironically, in
doing so, Nilos confessed his religious unity with the youths who had insulted him as an
outsider. The story ofNilos makes clear that ethnic identity was one way through which those
in this medieval world saw themselves-and others. That is to say, medieval people were prone
to generalization just like present-day histoήans.
Ultimately, the main goal in studying identity is not to focus οη how historians make sense
of the people of the past, but rather to understand how the people of the past made sense of
themselves. Understanding ethnic and religious identities certainly helps to interpret the
complicated picture of Byzantine southern Italy, not least because these identities mattered to
contemporaήes. We should explore them so that we can better know how the people we study
understood their communities and their places in them. These communities connected people,
not only locally, but to others who shared certain ideas or loyalties across geography and across
time, and whose thoughts and actions shared common influences. They remind us of people's
penchant for connection, which we share best with those whom we study when we recognise
the complexity of individual decision-making and the nature of overlapping and competing
identities.
The tesserae of individuals that compήse the mosaic of southern Italy are dynamic and
prismatic, changing in appearance depending οη the angle from which they are viewed.
Different perspectives bήng unique aspects of the complete image into greater focus, while
obscuring others. The histoήan's use of group identity in the investigation of the region is akin
to choosing a particular vantage point from which to view the mosaic. Relying too heavily οη
specific categoήes of group identity obscures the dynamism of the pieces by reducing in
dividuals to a single, even if dominant, aspect of their individuality. Of course, the historian
desires to appreciate not only the individual pieces but also the entire image. Paying attention to
228
categoήes of group identity is helpful and necessary for this reason, in the same way that the
observer of a mosaic must stand somewhere. Even so, moving around a bit will only increase
admiration for the work as a whole.
Notes
1 See Graham Loud, The Latin Church of Norman Italy (Cambήdge: CUP, 2007), 12 and Linda Safran,
The Medieval Salento: Art and Identity in Southern Italy (Philadelphia: UPP, 2014), 238 as examples.
2 Anthony Kaldellis, Streams of Gold, Rivers of Blood: The Rise and Fall of Byzantium, 955 A.D. to the First
Crusade (Oxford: OUP, 2017), 29.
3 Paul Magdalino, "Prosopography and Byzantine Identity" ίη Fifty Years of Prosopography, ed. Aveήl
Cameron (Oxford: Bήtish Academy, 2003), 43, emphasis mine.
4 Magdalino, "Byzantine Identity," 46.
5 Dion C. Smythe, "Ά Whiter Shade of Pale': Issues and Possibilities ίη Prosopography," ίη
Prosopography Approaches and Applications: Α Handbook, ed. K.S.B. Keats-Rohan (Oxford: Unit for
Prosopographical Research, Linacre College, 2007), 128.
6 Safran, Medieval Salento, 211.
7 Safran, Medieval Salento, 214; Luigi Andrea Berto, "The Image of the Byzantines ίη Early Medieval
South Italy: The Viewpoint of the Chroniclers of the Lombards (Ninth-Tenth Centuries) and
Normans (Eleventh Century)," Mediterranean Studies 22, ηο. 1 (2014): 1-37.
8 Barbara Kreutz, Before the Normans: Southern Italy in the Ninth & Tenth Centuries (Philadelphia: UPP,
1991), 50.
9 Michael McCormick, "The Impeήal Edge: Italo-Byzantine Identity, Movement and Integration, A.D.
650-950," ίη Studies on the Internal Diaspora of the Byzantine Empire, eds. Η. Ahrweiler and Α.Ε. Laiou
(Washington, D.C.: DO, 1998), 19.
10 Valerie Ramseyer, The Transformation of α Religious Landscape: Medieval Southern Italy, 850-1150
(Ithaca, ΝΥ: Cornell University Press, 2006), 7-11.
11 Safran, Medieval Salento, 219-22.
12 Ramseyer, Transformation, 194 observes that southern Italy was religiously and culturally well in
tegrated into the Mediterranean, and so descήptions of southern Italy as a frontier region should
emphasise political boundaήes. Sarah Davis-Secord, Where Three Worlds Met: Sicily in the Early Medieval
Mediterranean (Ithaca, ΝΥ: Cornell University Press, 2017), 6-11 discusses the central Mediterranean as
a space of a variety of cooperative and hostile interactions. Many of her observations concerning Sicily
as a "borderland" also apply to mainland southern Italy. See also Robert Bartlett and Angus McKay,
ed., Medieval Frontier Societies (Oxford: CP, 1989) and David Abulafia and Nora Berend, eds., Medieval
Frontiers: Concepts and Practices (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2002).
13 The most comprehensive treatment of the history of the entire period remains the classicJules Gay,
L'italie mέridionale et l'empire byzantin depuis l'avi!nement de Basile Ι. jusqu'a lα prise de Bari par les
Normands, 867-1071 (New York: Burt Franklin, 1960). Reprint ofJules Gay, L'italie mέridionale et
l'empire byzantin depuis l'avi!nement de Basile Ι. jusqu'a lα prise de Bari par les Normands (867-1071) (Paris:
Α. Fontemoing, 1904).
14 Jean-Maήe Martin, La Pouille du Vle au XIIe sii!cle (Rome: Ecole franι;:aise de Rome, 1993), 164 and
169; Vera von Falkenhausen, 'Ίl monachesimo italo-greco e ί suoi rapporti con il monachesimo
benedettino," ίη L'esperienza monastica benedittina e lα Puglia, ed. C.D. Fonseca (Galatina: Congedo,
1983), 129.
15 Giovanni Vitolo, "Vescovi e Diocesi," ίη Storia del mezzogiorno, ed. G. Galasso (Naples: Edizione del
Sol, 1990), 75-86.
16 The dispute over the legacy of the Roman Empire was an important matter of identity ίη its own right,
leading to competition over territory and influence ίη southern Italy.
17 Loud, Latin Church, 13.
18 McCormick, Imperial Edge, 20.
20 McCormick, Imperial Edge, 24-30.
22 Peter Charanis, "The Question of the Hellenization of Sicily and Southern Italy During the Middle
Ages," The American Historical Review 52, ηο. 1 (1946): 74-86; Paul Goubert "Quelques aspects de
229
Joseph Western
l'Hellenisme en Italie meήdionale au moyen-age," ίη Atti del 3 congresso internazionale di studi sull'alto
medioevo, vol. 3 (Spoleto: Presso la sede del centro, 1956), 299-312; Andre Guillou "L'Italie
meήdionale byzantine ou Byzantines en Italie meridionale," Byzantion, 44 (1974): 152-90 are nu
merous approaches to this question.
23 Jean-Maήe Martin, 'Ήellenisme et presence byzantine en Italie meήdionale (VIIe-XIIIe siecle)," ίη
L'ellenismo italiota dal VII al ΧΙΙ secolo: alla memoria di Nikos Panagiotakis, ed. Ν. Oikonomides (Athens:
Institute for Byzantine Research, 2001), 201.
24 Ghislaine Noye, "Puglia e Calabήa dall'888 agli anni 960: Longobardia, Arabi, e 'bizantinita,"' ίη Italy,
888-962: Α Turning Point, eds. Μ. Valenti and C. Wickham (Turnhout: Brepols, 2014), 206.
25 John V.A. Fine, Jr., The Early Medieval Balkans: Α Critical Survey from the Sixth to the Late Twelfth
Century (Αηη Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1983), 117-26.
26 Dimitry Obolensky, The Byzantine Commonwealth: Eastern Europe, 500-1453 (London: Weidenfeld
and Nicolson, 1971, 1982), 100-1.
27 rif
Liudprand of Cremona, "Relatio de legatione constantinopolitana," in The Complete Works Liudprand of
Cremona, trans. Paolo Squatήti (Washington, DC: Catholic University Press of Ameήca, 2007), 62.
28 Henry Mayr-Harting, "Liudprand of Cremona's Account of His Legation to Constantinople (968) and
Ottonian Impeήal Strategy," EHR 116 Gune 2001): 539-56; Graham Loud, "Southern Italy ίη the
Tenth Century," ίη NCMH, ed. Τ. Reuter (Cambridge: CUP, 2000), 633 are voices critical of the
veracity of Liudprand's charges.
29 Milton V. Anastos, "The Transfer of Illyήcum, Calabήa, and Sicily," Studi bizantini e neoellenici 9
(1954): 14-31; Judith Herrin, The Formation of Christendom (Pήnceton: PUP, 1987), 350.
30 Liudprand, Relatio, 62 provides this list.
31 Loud, "Tenth Century," 632.
32 Andre Guillou, "Geografia arnministrativa del Katepanato bizantino d'Italia (ΙΧ-ΧΙ sec.)," ίη Calabria
bizantina (Reggio Calabήa: Edizione Parallelo 38, 1975), 128.
33 Monumenta Germaniae Historia, Epistolae VII (Berlin: Weidmann, 1887-1939), 18.
34 Thietmar of Marseberg, Die Chronik des Bischofs Thietmar von Merseberg und ihre Korveier ϋberarbeitung,
ed. Robert Holtzmann, Monumenta Germaniae Historia, Scήptores rerum Gerrnanicarum NS 9 (Berlin:
Weidmannsche Buchhandlung, 1935) asserts that Otto ΙΙ did take the city, but this is doubtful.
35 Noye, "Puglia e Calabria," 172/f discusses the fortification of towns ίη southern Italy from the end of
the sixth century corresponding to the increasing insecuήty after the collapse of the Roman Empire ίη
the West.
36 Kreutz, Before the Normans, 63-4.
37 Kreutz, Before the Normans, 63.
38 Erchempert, Historia longobardorum beneventanorum, 33 ίη Joan Rowe Ferry, 'Έrchempert's History of
the Lombards of Benevento: Α Translation and Study of Its Place ίη the Chronicle Tradition" (PhD
Diss., Rice University, 1995), 33.
39 Erchempert, Historia, 38.
42 Giovanni Saladino, Storia della Calabria bizantina: L'alto medioevo imperiale ed ecclesiastico (Rome:
Saladino, 2010), 133.
43 Francesco Tήnchera, Syllabus Graecarum membranarum quae partim Neapoli in maiori tabulario et primaria
bibliotheca partim in Casinensi Coenobio ac Cavensi et in episcopali tabulario Neritino iamdiu delitescentes
(Neapoli: Typis Josephi Cataneo, 1865), 1.
45 Erchempert, Historia, 56-7.
46 Erchempert, Historia, 71.
49 rif
Alex Metcalfe, The Muslims Medieval Italy (Edinburgh: EUP, 2009), 62-65.
50 Kreutz, Before the Normans, 50-1.
51 Metcalfe, Muslims, 10-3.
52 Annales Lupi Protospatharii, 98 ίη William Joseph Churchill Jr., "The 'Annales Barenses' and the
'Annales Lupi Protospatharii': Cήtical Edition and Commentary" (PhD Diss., University of
Toronto, 1979).
53 Ramseyer, Transformation, 8.
230
54 See, e.g., Loud, Latin Church, 13.

55 Bartholomew the Υounger, Vita de S. Nilo, Fondatore e Patrono di Grottaferrata, trans. Germano
Giovanelli (Grottaferrata: Badia de Grottaferrata, 1966), 72.
56 Vitae Gregory Abbatis, Monumenta Germaniae Historia, Scriptores XV, ed. Ο. Holder-Egger (Hannover:
Impensis bibliopoli hahniani, 1887); Vera νοη Falkenhausen, "Greek Monasticism in Carnpania and
Latium from the Tenth to the Fifteenth Century," in Greek Monasticism in Southern Italy: The Life rif
Neilos in Context, eds. Β. Crostini and Ι.Α. Murzaku (London: Routledge, 2018), 80.
57 "Ruperti Chronicon sancti Laurentii Leodiensis," in Monumenta Germaniae Historia Scήptores VIII
(Hannover: Impensis bibliopoli hahniani, 1887), 10.
58 Vera νοη Falkenhausen, La dominazione bizantina nellΊtalia meridionale dal ΙΧ all'XI secolo (Bari:
Ecumenica editήce, 1978), 180, ηο. 10.
59 Graham Loud, "Montecassino and Byzantium in the Tenth and Eleventh Centuries," in The Theotokos
Evergetis and Eleventh-Century Monasticism, eds. Μ. Mullett and Α. Κirby (Belfast: Belfast Byzantine
Enterpήses, 1994), 36.
60 Tήnchera, Syllabus, no. 14 and 17.
61 Brian Α. Cados, Kingdoms of Faith: Α New History of Islamic Spain (New York: Basic Books, 2018), 5.
62 Safran, Medieval Salento, 211-2.
231
13
DEHUMANISATION,
APOCALYPTICISM, AND ANTI
JUDAISM: REFLECTIONS ΟΝ
IDENTITY FORMATION ΙΝ
SEVENTH-CENTURY
BYZANTIUM
Ryan W. Strickler
The seventh century was a period of transfoπnative cήsis in the Byzantine-Roman Empire.
From its opening decades, military defeat, political conflict, and religious division dominated
Roman society, beginning with the death of Mauήce at the hands of the usurper Phocas in
602.1 Heraclius (r. 610-41) overthrew Phocas eight years later and in the process inherited a
divided church and an entrenched defensive war against the Sassanid Persians which saw the loss
ofJerusalem in 614 and with it the True Cross.2 Although the Romans eventually defeated the
Persians in 628, by 630 Arab tήbes began to make inroads in the empire which had been
weakened by decades of warfare.3 Jerusalem would fall peπnanently into Muslim hands in 637.4
By the end of the century most of the Arabian Peninsula, Palestine, Egypt, and North Mήca
was controlled by the ascendant Islamic Caliphate.
The rapid succession of defeats at the hands of non-Chήstian invaders led to severe identity
crisis for the Romans, for whom God's favour was demonstrated by military victory. Authors
were compelled to appeal to new rhetorical strategies to address this change in fortune. For
some, defeat was part of an apocalyp tic naπative of divine chastisement and future deliverance.
For others, defeat was blamed οη the empire's Jewish population, leading to a ήse in the
production of adversus judaeσs literature.
This chapter considers some of the predominant approaches to Roman identity formation in
the wake of the Persian and Islamic invasions. Α complex mixture of dehumanization, delivered
through apocalyp tic and anti-Jewish discourse allowed Roman authors to quantify their ad
versaήes, both internal and external, and to demonstrate that, despite military defeat, the
Chήstian Romans remained God's chosen people. Whether by emplotting the Romans and
their adversaήes into Biblical and Classical history, or creating an apocalyptic narrative of future
deliverance, Roman authors managed to render the cήses of the century into a grand provi
dential naπative. For others, anti-Jewish discourse peπnitted authors to deflect blame for their
232 DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-16

Reflections on Identity Formation
impeήal failures onto the Jews of the empire and to comfort Christians who may have doubted
their status as God's chosen people.
Methodology
Before we consider seventh-century techniques of identity formation, it will be instructive to
consider the methodology used in this chapter. This study boπows the insights of sociologist
Margaret Somers, whose theoήes pertaining to identity formation are informative. Further,
developments within modern social psychology are useful in comprehending the mechanisms
of dehumanisation which play a role for many authors across vaήous genera.
Α Naπativity and Emplotment

Sociologist Margaret R. Somers has highlighted the importance of naπativity in the process of
identity formation. Individuals find meaning by locating themselves within social narratives
which exist independent of themselves and do so as a result of the inherent need to establish
one's unique identity. Fittingly, Somers uses the term "naπative identity" to descήbe the results
of this social process.5
Somers identifies four dimensions of naπativity. These include ontological, public, con
ceptual, and metanaπativities.6 Of these four, ontological naπativity is most significant for our
purposes. Ontological naπatives provide the content of self-identity by making sense of the
events within an individual's expeήence. Individuals base their actions οη their understanding
of the ontological narratives as they have constructed them.
Closely related to the category of naπativity is the concept of naπative emplotment.
According to Somers, emplotment is the process by which meaning is provided within a given
narrative. Emplotment is the function of naπativity which translates random events into epi
sodes, independent of chronological considerations.7 This is the process by which seemingly
arbitrary events are given meaning and render the events comprehensible within a narrative.
For Somers, emplotment is the mechanism by which otherwise unfamiliar events are rendered
understandable by being placed within a comprehensible plot. 8
Somers's theory of naπative emplotment is widely applicable in the study of late-ancient
history.9 It is further applicable to the study of seventh-century identity formation, and in
particular the rhetorical construct of external adversaήes and Roman Jews in contrast to or
thodox Chήstian Romans. If we accept Somers's paradigm, the cήses of the seventh century
were incomprehensible within the standard Byzantine naπative plot of impeήal success and
expansion as a demonstration of divine favour. Το cope with instability, Byzantine authors
emplotted themselves, their adversaήes, and their crises in a new paradigm of divine chas
tisement, and thus alleviated the anxiety induced by unprecedented defeat.
Β Social Psychology and Dehumanisation Theory

Dehumanization remains a constant theme in seventh-century cήsis literature. Ιη adversus
judaeos literature the adversary is typically the rhetoήcally constructed 'Jew," who is rendered
devoid of agency and reduced to a series of tropes as an easily defeated strawman. Ιη apocalyptic
literature, human adversaήes are frequently dehumanised and reduced to monstrous caήcatures,
often under the control of demons or serving cogs in a divine machine.
Recent developments in the field of social psychology can help us understand the dehu
manisation strategies employed by our sources. Nick Haslam and his team noted a tendency
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Ryan W. Strickler
among humans to distinguish between "human uniqueness," which includes learned social
niceties, norms, and other markers of civility, and "human nature," which includes innate,
"essence-like" qualities common to all human beings.10 According to Haslam, to dehumanise
other individuals or groups in bestial terms is to deny them the unique attήbutes associated with
humanity, while reserving those qualities for members of the ingroup.11 This is subtly differ
entiated from the denial ofhuman nature, which renders members ofthe dehumanised group as
automatons, lacking any self-will or ambition. These two categories provide a framework to
assess the degree of the dehumanisation of a given subject.
Haslam and his team found that groups who attήbuted high levels of human nature to a
particular group granted coπespondingly high levels of human agency. People who were as
cribed high levels of human nature were considered worthy of praise for their actions and
worthy of blame for rnisdeeds. Most importantly for our study, the reverse corollary was also
12
observed. While dehumanised individuals or groups are held less culpable, this is based οη a
perceived lack of autonomy or agency. Ιη other words, groups are dehumanised, in part, be
cause they are considered to lack basic human agency and self-control.
This chapter applies Haslam's categories to an interdisciplinary exarnination of Roman
dehumanisation of political and rnilitary adversaήes. Haslam's categories provide fresh insights
into these processes, as they relate to seventh-century Roman apocalyptic and anti-Jewish
discourse. Incorporating Somers's theoήes of narrativity and emplotment, we can develop a
more complete picture ofthe psychological and sociological processes at work the construction
of seventh-century Roman identity.
11 History of the Past and Future: Biblical, Classical, and Apocalyptic

Emplotment
With this overview in place, we can now turn to the ways in which Romans reconstructed
their identity in the wake of the cήses of the seventh century. One strategy was to emplot the
Romans and their adversaries into biblical salvation history, including apocalyptic naπatives of
Daniel and Ezekiel, as well as into the history of Greek mythology. We will begin by con
sideήng these processes at work in the poet George of Pisidia, as well as a selection of early
witnesses to the Arab invasions.
Α Dehumanizing the Persians

Beginning with the Persian invasions, the court poet George of Pisidia plied his craft to de
humanise impeήal enernies and elevate the Romans, especially the emperor Heraclius. George's
Heracliad, wήtten οη the occasion of Heraclius's victory over the Sassanid Persian Empire,
compares the Persians with biblical and classical foes. Throughout the work, George draws
typological parallels between Heraclius and his Persian counterpart, as well as between the
Roman and the Persian Empires. Ιη each case, George casts Heraclius and the Romans as the
redivivae personae ofheroes ofthe past, while the Persians and Chosroes ΙΙ are depicted as ancient
villains.
One example ofthis strategy is George's use ofthe Old Testament Book ofDaniel. George
casts Heraclius in the role ofboth Daniel and the three holy youths, and Chosroes ΙΙ in the role
of the lion and Nebuchadnezzar's attendants who heated the furnace.13 He wήtes:
Again, the Persian furnace and a second flame bedews the second Daniel, And the
flame, by nature, is ascendant. It spreads over all ofthem [the Persians] and chases, and
234
burns up those who kindle the evil flame. Again, the mouth of the ferocious lions,
because of you was stopped in the land of the Persians. Again the impious Chosroes
played the drunkard, and worshiped Fire and made himself into a god, until the heated
fire with him, and with the worshipper was destroyed. 14
George describes the adversary in animalistic terms and depicts the enemy as a drunkard.
Drawing further parallels with the Book ofDaniel, Chosroes, who worshipped fire, a reference
to the Zoroastήan religion as well as the Babylonian furnace, was finally consumed by that
which he worshipped, just as the attendants of the furnace in which the holy youths were
placed were consumed after the furnace was heated seven times hotter than normal.
George's naπative was not limited to drawing οη Old Testament typologies. Ιη one of the
more colourful passages in the Heracliad, George draws upon the classical tradition, depicting
the emperor Heraclius as a new and greater Heracles. Ιη turn, Chosroes ΙΙ and the Persians are
compared to the mythical beasts of antiquity defeated by Heracles in his trials. Ιη the following
passage, George wήtes:
Rather marvel, reasonably, that there is one among men who is the deliverer of the
world, Heraclius. For he descended into the nethermost gates of Hades and strangled
the rage of the voracious dog; he raised up the Empire as Alcestis; he destroyed the
bloodthirsty dragon he subdued the hydra, the many-necked monster; he purged the life
covered before with filth; he strangled the world-polluting lion. And now Heracles went
15
forth into the State having taken the golden apples, the whole city.
Ιη this passage, George depicts Chosroes ΙΙ and the Persians as voracious dog, a blood-thirsty
dragon, a many-necked hydra, and a world-polluting lion. Fittingly, each of these beasts
correspond to beasts faced by Heracles in his labours, making the recapitulation of Heraclius'
classical namesake complete. The Persians are thoroughly dehumanised while Heraclius is
equated with one of the greatest heroes of antiquity. As in the parallel with Daniel, this de
piction gives context to Roman suffeήng and provides its own ontological narrative, one in
which the Romans are the continuation of the classical tradition.
While the choice of creatures used to dehumanise Chosroes ΙΙ and the Persians may have
been informed by the classical and biblical typology, the effect of this process goes beyond a
clever literary device. Dehumanising the Persians, and doing so in terms familiar to George's
audience, gives meaning to the cήses which concluded with Heraclius's victory. All of this
served to emplot the Romans and their Persian adversaήes into the providential, ontological
narrative of biblical and classical history.
Β Dehumanisation of the Arabs

While the Persians were a well-known and ancient adversary, defeat at the hands of the Arabs
presented a novel problem. Such circumstances forced Roman authors to get creative and, in
turn, Roman dehumanisation of the Arabs employed novel strategies. Sophronius ofJerusalem,
a front-line witness to Arab advances, and his disciple Maximus the Confessor provide some of
the earliest responses to the ήsing Arab threat. The Apocalypse of Pseudo-Methodius is a
pseudonymous text detailing the expeήence of sustained Islamic hegemony in the Middle East
and reflecting upon the implications of life under permanent rule of the enemy. These three
perspectives offer insights into the construction of Roman identity in the wake of the Arab
ιnvasιons.
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Ryan W. Strickler
i Sophronius
The Patήarch Sophronius ofJerusalem is among our earliest and most significant witnesses to
the Islarnic Arab invasions. Elevated to the patήarchate in 634, Sophronius witnessed
first-hand the slow and steady advance of Arab forces into Palestine and the subsequent losses of
his episcopal teπitory to Islarnic conquest. Ιη 641, in an attempt to secure favourable terms for
the inhabitants of his episcopal see, and perhaps at the behest of a population weary of war,
Sophronius negotiated the terms of surrender for the city ofJerusalem to the Caliph Umar ibn
al-Κhattab.16
Among the earliest recorded references to the Arab invasions is the so-called Synodical Letter,
sent by Sophronius to his patriarchal colleague Sergius of Constantinople, upon his elevation to
the Patriarchate of Jerusalem in 634. The Synodical Letter is often studied for its defiant stance
against imperial religious policy; however, the letter also reveals a sincere concern for the
welfare of the empire in the wake of a rapidly increasing Arab threat. Ιη the face of the dangers
posed by the new invaders, Sophronius offers moral support for the emperor Heraclius, whose
controversial religious policies Sophronius vocally opposed. Recalling the recent invasions,
Sophronius requests the following prayer from his recipient:
Ι offer an equally sincere plea to Υou, that Υou will make intense and unceasing
intercession and mediation to God οη behalf of our Chήst-loving and most serene
emperors ... when he has been appeased by Your God-pleasing prayers, will bestow
upon them many full years and grant them both the greatest victories against the
barbaήans, ...and provide them with rnighty and enduήng authoήty over all bar
baήans but especially the Saracens, destroying their pήde, who οη account of our sins
have now unexpectedly ήsen up against us, and are carrying everything off as spoils
with cruel and beastly intent and impious and godless audacity.17
Sophronius puts aside any theological differences he may have with Heraclius and Sergius,
instead offeήng his full support against an increasingly effective enemy and begging his theo
logical ήνal to pray οη behalf of the empire and its sovereigns.
By Christmas of the same year, the threat grew even closer as Arab advances into Palestine
rendered the traditional pilgήmage routes to Bethlehem impassable. Sophronius addressed these
circumstances in his Nativity Sermon of634. Preaching οη the difficulties, Sophronius discussed
the blockade in terms of divine causation:
Because of our innumerable sins and seήous trespasses, we are unable to behold these
things, and are prevented from enteήng Bethlehem by way of the road. Unwillingly,
indeed, against to our will, we are forced to remain home, not bound closely by
physical bonds, but bound by fear of the Saracens.18
Once again, Sophronius blames "innumerable sins" for the present circumstances, sins which
have bound the people in fear and restήcted their movements. Continuing, the patriarch
emplots the conquest of Bethlehem into the creation naπative of Genesis by compaήng their
circumstances to Adam's and Eve's expulsion from paradise, wήting, "We do not behold the
twisting, flarning sword, but rather the bestial and barbarous Saracen [sword], which is filled
with all demonic savagery."19 Ιη this short quote Sophronius dehumanises the Arab invaders
while emplotting them as the swords that prevent the residents ofJerusalem from returning to
the paradise of Bethlehem.
236
Finally, Sophronius once more blames the Romans themselves and their sins for their defeat,
though he is not without hope. The patήarch offers a solution to the tήals suffered by the
empire. These events could be quickly reversed if only the people "were to live as is dear and
pleasing to God." Although Sophronius's outlook is dire, hope is the prevailing theme within
the homily.
Sophronius may have been hopeful in the earliest years of the Arab invasions of Palestine,
but in the end, the region fell to Islamic forces, and Sophronius was forced to preside over the
final surrender of Jerusalem. Ιη his Epiphany Homily, given οη the occasion of the eponymic
feast in 636 or 637, Sophronius offered his final, exasperated account of the Arabs. It is here that
he paints the most vivid and dehumanising picture yet of the Islamic invaders. Placing the Arabs
squarely in prophetic history, Sophronius emplots their teπitoήal advances into the apocalyptic
narrative of the book of Daniel as follows:
[T]he vengeful and God-hating Saracens, the abomination of desolation clearly pre
dicted to us by the prophets, invade the places which are not permitted to them....
Moreover, they are increasingly raised up against us and intensify their blasphemy of
Chήst and the church, and utteήng evil blasphemies against God. Those God-fighters
boast of conqueήng all, diligently and uninhibitedly emulating their commander, who
is the devil....20
This sobeήng account vividly details the catastrophic nature of the Arab invasions and their
impact οη Palestine. The Saracens are a demonic scourge, blaspheming God, and led by the
devil himself, destroying the holy places and waging war against God's chosen people.
However, despite his foreboding, Sophronius still does not blame the Arabs for their success.
Ιη answer to the question of why these godless foes were able to prevail against the Chήstian
Roman Empire, Sophronius offers the following explanation:
We ourselves, in truth, are responsible for all these things and ηο word will be found
for our defence. What word or place will be given us for defence when we have taken
all these gifts [i.e., the sacraments] from him, befouled them and defiled everything
21
with our vile actions?
Ιη this sermon, the cautiously optimistic Sophronius of the Chήstmas homily has become weary
in the face of continued Islamic success and angry with his flock's apparent persistence in sin.
Here we find Sophronius's most developed thoughts οη both subjects and the patήarch at his
least hopeful.
Returning to Haslam's categoήes, we also find that Sophronius's Epiphany Homily assigns the
Arab invaders the lowest level of human nature and human uniqueness in any of the patήarch's
works. Sophronius envisioned the Arab forces not as a human foe, but as a demonic horde
commanded by the devil himself. Moreover, Sophronius enters further into the realm of
apocalyptic discourse to identify the invaders as the "abomination of desolation" as predicted by
the prophet Daniel.22 This approach allowed his audience, namely clergy and churchgoing
laity, to comprehend the threat and recognise the gravity of the situation.
The works of Sophronius exemplify the way in which seventh-century authors employed
apocalyptic discourse to construct Roman identity in contrast to the identity of the Arab in
vaders. As the invaders advanced into his terήtory, the patriarch depicted them in an in
creasingly dehumanised way and emplotted the Romans and Arabs into the biblical narrative of
prophecy. By depήving the Arabs of their agency and locating the cause of their success in
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Ryan W. Strickler
Roman sin, Sophronius not only provided hope of deliverance through repentance, but also
maintained Roman supeήority and their status as God's chosen people. Mter all, the Arabs were
not successful because of their strategy or due to impeήal military weakness, but because God
was teaching his people a lesson οη the importance of repentance.
ii Maximus the Confessor

Sophronius's disciple Maximus the Confessor, for his part, prefeπed to liken the Islamic in
vaders to beasts. Αη early example can be found in his Epistula 8 wήtten to Sophronius in the
earliest days of Arab success. Ιη this letter, Maximus obliquely refeπed to an apparent Arab
threat as "the wolves of Arabia," a phrase found in the Septuagint. Ιη this context, Maximus
allegoήses the biblical wolves, and appears unconcerned, perhaps even unaware, of the seήous
23
nature of the Arab threat at this early stage.
Maximus's perspective eventually changed, as is evidenced in Epistula 14 wήtten to Peter the
Illustris after the Islamic invaders continued to succeed against Byzantine forces. Dated by
Jankowiak and Booth to 633, we find Maximus finally aware of the threat posed by the Arabs.24
Speaking of the early invasions, Maximus wήtes:
For truly, what is more terήble than the evils which affiict the world today? For those
who can comprehend what is more hurtful than the cuπent events? What is more
pitiful and horήfying to those who now suffer them? Το see a barbarous nation from
the desert invading another's lands as if they were their own, and our lifestyle itself
being ravaged by wild beasts who only merely resemble men.25
The dehumanisation of the Arabs is literal in this passage. Using Haslam's categoήes, Maximus
fully denies the human uniqueness and human nature of the Arabs, stating that they only have
the semblance of human beings, and ravage the land like untamed beasts.
As grotesque as this bestial image is, like Sophronius he does not blame the Arabs themselves
for their behaviour. Instead, Maximus blames Christian disobedience for impeήal decline.
Maximus states:
What is, as Ι said, more catastrophic to Christian eyes and ears? Το see a merciless and
quaint people allowed to raise its hand against the divine inheήtance! But all these
things occur οη account of the many sins we have committed. For we have not lived
in a manner worthy of Chήst's Gospel.26
This selection begins with continued dehumanisation of the Arabs. Here, the human nature of
the Arabs is further denigrated: Maximus descήbes them as "merciless and quaint," in com
paήson with the Romans who represent the "divine inheήtance." However, in a surpήsing
turn, Maximus reverses what was initially a lament for Byzantine defeat by Arab forces into a
critique of the Roman population, particularly their intra-Chήstian conflicts.
For Sophronius and Maximus, the dehumanisation of the Arab forces meant the denial of
their human nature through the removal of agency. The Arabs instead become a plot device,
emplotted in an ontological naπative in which Muslim forces have ηο independent existence
apart from their use as God's chastising rod to coπect the empire for its sins. Indeed, for both,
the key to the empire's restoration is repentance. Ιη other words, the Arabs are emplotted in a
providential naπative in which an inhuman enemy is peπnitted to succeed against God's
people, the Byzantines.
238
iii Pseudo-Methodius
Ιη 691, Abd al-Malik erected the Haram al Sharif or Dome of the Rock upon the Temple
Mount, dorninating the Jerusalem landscape and architecturally symbolising the superioήty of
Islam over Chήstianity and Judaism. There is some debate as to whether the dome was intended
as a slight against Christians, with its non-Tήnitarian inscήption, or as a unifying symbol built
οη a site sacred to Jews, Chήstians, and Muslims.27 Whatever Abd al-Malik's intentions, it is
clear that it had negative repercussions in the Chήstian community under Islarnic dornination.
Gerήt Reinink argues that this event, along with the 'Umayyad heavy taxation regime, pro
vided the impetus for the composition of the final document under consideration in this
chapter, the Apσcalypse of Pseudo-Methodius.28
The Apσcalypse, attήbuted to fourth-century martyr Methodius of Olympus, was composed
29
in Syήac but was almost immediately translated into Greek. From Greek it was translated into
Latin in the early eighth century, and in Latin, it was swiftly disserninated throughout Europe.
The text can be roughly divided into two sections. The first provides the fanciful genealogy in
the style of a world chronicle. The second carήes the naπative to the Arab invasions and
beyond.
The pseudo-histoήcal section is followed by a series of vaticinia ex eventu up until the taxation
regime imposed upon the recently conquered Chήstian subjects. It descήbes in detail the in
vasions of the Sons ofishmael, whom the author "predicts" will be peπnitted to be victoήous
over the Romans: "not because God loves them [the Ishmaelites] that He allows them to enter
into the kingdom of the Chήstians, but because of the iniquity and the sin that is being wrought
by the Chήstians," iniquity which is descήbed in great detail.30 The chastisement brought by
the sons of Ishmael included, pήmaήly mateήal depήvation and taxation, and also the defile
ment of churches and holy services.
The punishment brought upon the Chήstians through the Sons of Ishmael, acting as God's
rod of chastisement, is descήbed in detail. The following passage depicts the extent of Chήstian
torment under the rule of the Ishmaelites:
Mter these calamities and chastisements of the sons ofishmael, at the end of that week,
mankind will be lying in the peήl of that chastisement. There will be ηο hope of their
being saved from that hard servitude. They will be persecuted and oppressed, and will
suffer indignities, hunger, and thirst. They will be troubled with a hard chastisement.
All the while, those tyrants will be enjoying food, drink, and rest, and they will be
boasting of their victoήes ...They will dress up like bridegrooms and adorn themselves
as bήdes, and blaspheme by saying, "There is ηο Savior for the Christians."31
The situation descήbed by the Apσcalypse is bleak. The Christians languish in poverty while
their captors live in gratuitous luxury. The success of the Ishmaelites leads them to boast of their
superioήty over the Chήstians.
The author emplots the Arabs, whom he refers to as the "Children of Ishmael," and the
surviving Chήstians into an apocalyptic naπative. The characteήsation of the Islamic aπnies as a
four-headed beast, Ruin and the Destroyer, Devastation and the Spoiler are unique within
seventh-century apocalyptic discourse and is an escalation of the dehumanisation of the Arab
invaders. While they are descήbed as inhuman beasts, the author goes a step further suggesting
they will eat the flesh of men and dήnk their blood. This descήption is a complete dehuma
nisation of the adversary. Το use Haslam's terms, the author denies the Islamic invaders both
their human nature and human uniqueness.
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Ryan W. Strickler
The descήption above depicts the lowest point of Chήstian suffeήng when despair has
reached its peak. At this point, when the situation seems most dire, as their captors taunt Chήst,
the awaited deliverance comes. Pseudo-Methodius descήbes the vindication of the Chήstians as
follows:
Then, suddenly, as with a woman in childbirth, the pangs of travail will be stiπed up
[upon them], and the king of the Greeks will come out against them with great anger.
He will wake up against them "as a man who shakes away his wine." ...The sons of
the king of the Greeks will seize the regions of the desert and will finish by the sword
any survivor left among them in the Prornised Land .... Their oppression will be one
hundredfold stronger than their own yoke. They will be in a hard calarnity of hunger,
[thirst] and exhaustion. They will be enslaved, they and their wives and their chil
32
dren .... And their servitude will be one hundredfold more bitter than theirs.
For Pseudo-Methodius, the Arab victoήes are only one stage in the apocalyptic naπative,
which culrninates in the restoration of the empire through the eschatological "Last Roman
Emperor." Indeed, the woes of the Arab invasions will be surpassed when the unclean nations,
Gog and Magog, are released from captivity and peπnitted to unleash havoc. Contrary to what
one might assume, the Apocalyp se is clear that the Arabs are only a temporary scourge. Ιη the
end, the lands under Arab occupation will be restored to Roman rule, and history will continue
as before once the Arab forces are defeated and their abuses are avenged.
ΠΙ Adversus Judaeos Literature

At the turn of the seventh century,Jewish and Chήstian relations appear to have been relatively
peaceful. However, with the Sassanid conquest of Jerusalem rumours spread, perhaps based
somewhat in reality that the Jews had colluded with the Persians, resulting in the death of
Chήstians. There is some indication that the Persians may have initially granted the Jews
control ofJerusalem for a time.33 Whether this was the case, the Persians quickly turned οη the
Jews resulting in persecution.
After Heraclius's victory over Sassanid forces, the emperor initiated a formal policy of religious
persecution against the Jews of the empire, resulting in the first edict of forced baptism in 636.
This policy was highly controversial even among Chήstians, famously opposed by Maximus the
Confessor in a fi-agment associated with Epistula 8.34 Evidence suggests that enforcement of the
edict was largely lirnited to North Afuca and Palestine, though the general attitude of the empire
against the Jews was manifested in both Chήstian and Jewish literature. The Jewish community
saw a revival of messianic expectation, with liturgical and apocalyp tic literature depicting
Heraclius as the anti-Messianic Arrnilos, who would be defeated by a corning Messiah.
Anti-Jewish attitudes manifested themselves in Christian literature in a pronounced uptick in
adversus ]udaeos literature. From general remarks about the incompatibility of the Jews to
convert due to their "ancestral apostasy," to apologetic prooftexts, to anti-Jewish dialogues,
numerous texts were produced that depicted the Jews as abandoning God and infeήor to
Chήstians.35 There has been some debate as to whether the increased production of dialogues
indicated an intellectual exchange between Chήstians, or whether these were merely rhet
oήcally constructed exchanges designed to demonstrate Jewish infeήoήty.36 Among the most
stήking examples of such a dialogue is the so-called Doctrina Jacobi nuper Baptizati, an account of
a forcefully baptised convert to Chήstianity who tries to convince his former co-religionists to
join him in his new faith.
240
The authors we have dsicussed so far tended toward transforming teπestήal enemies into
supernatural adversaήes in a grand providential battle, the result of punishment for large-scale
sin. Οη the whole, authors of anti-Jewish literature blamed not "sin" in the abstract, or divine
punishment, but οη the equally abstract and equally problematic "Jew." Such literature sought
to demonstrateChήstianity's overwhelmingly supeήoήty toJudaism, and further underline that
Chήstianity was the true Israel (verus Israel). The following section examines this theme as it
appears in two important dialogues of the rnid-seventh century: The Dialogue Between the ]ews
Papiscus and Philo with α Monk, and the Doctrina Jacobi nuper baptizati.
Α Papiscus and Philo

The first document under consideration is the Dialogue Between the ]ews Papiscus and Philo With α
Mσnk. This anonymous seventh-century dialogue recounts a disputation between the two title
characters and an unnamed monk, and addresses questions concerning the legitimacy of the
claims ofJudaism and Chήstianity to the law and the scήptures. The subject matter itself is not
unusual and follows a well-established tradition in line with most previous adversus ]udaeos
dialogues. What makes this text unique is what it reveals about the circumstances of religious
rninoήties in the earliest period of the Islarnic invasions.
The dialogue was composed in 650 in Syήa by an unknown Melkite author after Islarnic
hegemony had been established in the region. Subtle hints throughout the text reveal the
author's allegiance to the Roman empire, and the author's commentary offers some clues about
the treatment of Chήstians and Jews duήng the first decades ofislamic occupation. While the
author of the dialogue's perspective is bleak, his responses to his Jewish interlocutors betray a
hope that his present circumstances will soon come to an end, and that the empire will re
capture the terήtory.37
At one point in the dialogue, discussion turns toward the ability of the characters' co
religionists to remain steadfast under the threat of persecution. The debate begins with ques
tions about the legitimacy of icons in worship, but in the rniddle of his response, the protagonist
steers the conversation toward a compaήson of the plight ofJews and Chήstians under Islarnic
rule and their respective rates of apostasy. The monk addresses these concerns in the following
passage:
While venerating the cross, Ι do not say, "Glory to you, Ο wood!" God forbid!
Rather, Ι say, "Glory to you, Ο all powerful cross, you are a type ofChήst." But you,
while reverencing the calf say, "These gods are your gods, Ο Israel, who led you out
ofEgypt!"38 Ι, although captured, beaten, tortured, and crushed exceedingly, did not
deny my God; and if some Christians have denied him, still they are not as many as
you, who deny God even though you are not killed due to lack of concern. 39
This passage provides an interesting defence against the accusation of idolatry through the
veneration of icons and the cross, a subject that was a common debating point in seventh
century adversus ]udaeσs literature.
The monk counters Jewish objections by changing the subject to a discussion of apostasy,
and by compaήng the faithfulness of the Jews and Christians under Muslim rule. The prota
gonist begins by providing a list of the hardships which he had personally endured. By means of
this list, the monk is likely serving as a stand-in forChήstians more broadly as he claims to have
been captured, impήsoned, and tortured at the hands of the occupying Arab forces, apparently
in an attempt to coerce him to renounce his faith. Despite enduήng these hardships, the monk
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Ryan W. Strickler
remained steadfast, and he claims, moreover, that some Christians had even been killed for not
abandoning their faith and embracing Islam.
While the aim of this passage is to highlight the endurance of Chήstians in the face of
torture, the monk does admit that not all Chήstians were able to endure that level of abuse. At
this point, the monk's account becomes very candid, when he admits that "some Chήstians"
had denied God rather than suffer mistreatment. Raising this subject is of ηο benefit to the
monk's position in the debate, unless Chήstian apostasy was an inescapable fact that the author
felt required a defence. Ενeη so, the author manages to turn weakness into an advantage, by
turning apostasy into a numbers game and compaήng the "some" Christians with the "many
more" Jews who denied God. The monk takes things further by asserting that, unlike the
Chήstians, Jews denied their faith willingly, without hardship and without the threat of death.
The author goes to great lengths to establish the identity of the Chήstians as a persecuted
people who, with a few exceptions, endure faithfully. This is then contrasted with the Jews
who, like their Old Testament ancestors, are willing to betray their God even without the
threat of hardship, drawing an analogy between contemporary Jews and those of the Old
Testament who worshipped the golden calf in the wilderness. Those among the Chήstian
community who betrayed their faith only did so under extreme duress and were few. This
testimony allows the author to both acknowledge and dismiss the significant threat of apostasy,
while simultaneously asserting Chήstian superioήty despite heavy teπitoήal losses which would
indicate otherwise.
Β The Doctrina Jacobi nuper Baptizati

The enigmatic Doctrina Jacobi nuper Baptizat is the final, and perhaps most cunous adversus
]udaeos that we will discuss. This document defies many of the conventions typical of anti
Jewish literature. Unlike most such dialogues, the Doctrina delves into apocalyptic speculation
by addressing contemporary Jewish messianic prophecies. The dialogue is not between static
Chήstian and Jewish interlocutors, but a set of men who were born Jews conversing with a
recent convert to Chήstianity under the forced baptism edict of 632.
The dialogue was wήtten circa 640, in Ptolemais in Palestine by an anonymous Chήstian
40
author. Ptolemais and Caesarea were cities known for their significant Jewish populations
41
and, incidentally, receive extensive mention within the Doctrina. The dialogue is narrated by
the character of Joseph, a newly baptised Jew. The mise en scene is a secret meeting of
CarthaginianJews, lamenting the edict of forced baptism, and debating the best course of action
in light of the edict's enforcement. The title character, Jacob, is a Torah scholar, living in
cognito, who mistakenly betrays his circumcision in a bathhouse and is promptly seized by local
Chήstians and baptised. AlthoughJacob initially resisted, while in captivity he received a vision
from a heavenly messenger who revealed to him thatJesus was the true Messiah and urged him
42
to embrace Chήstianity and accept baptism.
Aside from the unique perspective of a Jewish convert to Chήstianity, several features
distinguish the Doctrina from other adversus ]udaeos dialogues of the peήod. Perhaps most sur
prising is the fact that the Doctrina is openly cήtical of Chήstians and their treatment of Jews.
There is an awareness οη the part of Jacob that Christians are flawed, despite his attempts to
convert his interlocutor, and is illustrated in the vivid narration of Jacob's treatment by
Chήstians pήor to his baptism. During his ordeal, Jacob is forcibly abducted, and then stήpped
down in front of a group of Christians who inspect his genitalia for circumcision. After his status
as a Jew is confirmed, he is taken and forcibly baptised, although in the end he sincerely
converts and accepts his baptism.
242
The Doctrina further differs in its disclosure of a close familiaήty with Judaisrn beyond
standard tropes of the Law and the Old Testarnent. The knowledge ofJudaisrn by rnost authors
of adversus ]udaeos literature was lirnited to repackaged Old Testarnent stereotypes. The author
of the Doctrina, on the other hand, has dernonstrable knowledge of seventh-century Rornan
Judaisrn. For exarnple, rnuch has been rnade of the use of the terrn "mamzir" (μάμζιρος), a
Hebrew colloquial insult roughly equivalent to "bastard" in English. 43 Although μάμζιρος is
attested in Septuagint Greek, it is exceedingly rare and betrays the knowledge of Jewish
idiornatic speech.44 The fi:-equency with which it is ernployed by both parties provides an
inforrnal tone of rnutual insult to the Doctrina. The disrespect reaches such a degree that at one
pointJacob andJustus nearly corne to blows. All of these aspects are unique and differ frorn the
forrnalised setting typical of rnost adversus ]udaeos dialogues, which involve a respectful and
reasonable exchange of ideas, even if in the end the Chήstian is revealed to be superior. As a
result, the Doctrina has an air of authenticity that differs frorn other exarnples of the genre that
are typically contήved and derivative.
Another way in which the Doctrina differs frorn other exarnples of adversus ]udaeos literature is
the inclusion of an apocalyptic section. Ιη this section, the author predicts the division of Rorne
and the rise of the anti-Messiah Herrnolaos (Ερμόλαος). 45 Herrnolaos appears to be a
Hellenised forrn of the Hebrew Armilos who is the anti-rnessianic figure in Jewish apocalyptic
literature. The rnost prorninent appearance of Armilos is found in the Sifer Zerubbabel, where he
stood as a substitute for the ernperor Heraclius who was predicted to attack theJews and usher
in the return of the rnessiah due to his extensive prograrn of persecution, including the very
edict of forced baptisrn at the centre of the Doctrina.
Unsurpήsingly in a pro-Rornan text, the associations with the ernperor Heraclius are not
present in the Doctrina. Still, the discussion of the eschatological adversary raises further ques
tions about the authorship of the Doctrina. It is noteworthy that the entire corpus of Jewish
apocalyptic literature, including the Sifer Zerubbabel and the liturgical piyyutim, was cornposed in
Hebrew, and was closely guarded by theJewish cornrnunity because of its subversive nature. As
a result, it was largely inaccessible to Greek-speaking Rornan gentiles.
Whether the Doctrina was wήtten by an actual forrner Jew or was a carefully researched
dialogue fi:-orn within the Chήstian cornrnunity rernains the subject of debate. While rnost
scholars agree that the Doctrina is a cornpletely unique piece of literature for the period, rnost
argue that the Doctrina was cornposed for Christians without aJewish audience in rnind, though
there are cornpelling argurnents to the contrary. Its exact purpose, whether to convince hesitant
Jews or to ease anxieties regarding the "convertibility" ofJews is also a rnatter of debate.46 The
correct answer has litde irnpact οη our topic and is beyond the scope of this chapter. However,
the author's unique literary approach, particularly the rhetoήcal construction of the mamzir, has
significant beaήng οη the construction of Rornan Chήstian identity in contrast to Jewish
identity. For the author, whether or not one is a mamzir is tied to the question of apostasy.
Within the Doctrina, the debate about the true nature of apostasy leads to a heated exchange,
following the introduction of Jacob by Isaac, one of the parties present at the secret rneeting.
Isaac asks Justus, his cousin, to give his opinion about Jacob's testirnony. The conversation is
depicted as follows:
And Justus sat down and said, 'Ί have found, evilly, that you, rny children and students,
do not fearGod, but rather are apostates ofGod."Jacob answered and said. "Be calrn, lord
Justus." And Justus said, "Truly Ι arn obliged to be angry, because you, as a scourge, an
apostate, and an abornination to the Jews, have now been revealed as a teacher by your
slander." AndJacob answered: "Truly you speak the truth, that before Ι was a scourge, an
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Ryan W. Strickler
apostate, an aborrήnation, a blind man, and a slanderer, not knowing the highest God; in
this you spoke the truth and were a prophet.... He who does not have the Chήst and
does not believe in him is an apostate of God, a mamzir, and is cursed."47
This bήef but heated exchange provides significant insights into Chήstian and Jewish concepts
of apostasy.Justus responds in visceral anger, accusingJacob and his followers of abandoning the
fear of God, and of apostasy. When Jacob tries to calm Justus's ire, he escalates his accusations,
declaring him a scourge, an apostate, an abomination to the Jews, and a teacher of slander.
Justus's accusations of apostasy were technically accurate.Jacob has literally abandonedJudaism
in favour of Chήstianity, and Justus's response could be considered ήghteous indignation.
Justus's response is not surprising. Υet, it is Jacob's response that has the greatest bearing
upon our investigation.Jacob responds, quite unexpectedly, by agreeing with Justus's accusa
tions, even calling him a prophet. However, he then upturns the readers' expectations by
applyingJacob's attacks to his former life as aJew, pήor to his baptism. What follows transforms
the Doctrina's discourse οη apostasy and is entirely unique in adversus ]udaeos literature, and
Chήstian discourse more broadly.Jacob transforms the meaning of apostasy to refer to anyone
"who does not have Christ and does not believe in him." Such a person, Jacob asserts, is "an
apostate of God, a mamzir, and cursed." Jacob redefines apostasy fi-om meaning any aban
donment of one's religion to indicating anybody who actively rejects Chήst. He introduces a
new understanding of the apostate as a true mamzir.
This passage represents a radical new approach to the theme of apostasy and reflects a so
phisticated attempt to construct a new and unique Christian identity in opposition to Judaism.
Rather than addressing the phenomenon of Chήstians abandoning the faith, as the author of the
Dialogue Between the ]ews Papiscus and Philo with α Monk had done ten years later, the author of
the Doctrina adapts the concept to refer pήmarily to Jews, apostates by default, because they
abandoned God by denying Christ. This is a twist in the traditional concern of adversus ]udaeos
literature. All anti-Jewish dialogues before and after the Doctrina had been tasked with estab
lishing Chήstians as "verus Israel." Instead, the author here turns the concept upside down to
define Jews as "veri apostatae." The final result is the same, but the means are a new and offer a
rhetoήcally sophisticated approach to the argument.
Conclusion
The cήses of the seventh century created an intolerable identity crisis among many Byzantine
Romans. Traditional conceptions of Roman supeήoήty that relied οη military victory as
evidence of divine favour could not be maintained in the face of defeat at the hands of two
major non-Chήstian adversaήes. While some Romans evidently caπied this perspective to its
logical conclusion, opting to convert to the religion of the adversary, many Roman authors
turned to alternative paradigms to reconstruct Roman identity.
One strategy was to emplot the Romans and their adversaries into a larger narrative in which
defeat was temporary and the Romans would emerge victorious. This involved the dehuma
nisation of adversaήes, to deny their agency, and to place them as either monstrous foes of the
biblical and classical past, as was the case of George of Pisidia, or as demonically dήven or
animalistic foes, as was the strategy of Sophronius, Maximus, and pseudo-Methodius.
Others turned to the traditional Christian rivalry against the Jews in the competition for
status as God's chosen people. This approach had some degree of imperial sanction and was
fuelled by a general animosity against the Jews after their perceived betrayal in the conflict
against the Persians. Here, Chήstians sought to demonstrate that Jews were, by their nature,
244
apostates, and that Chήstians remained supeήor to the Jews despite rnilitary defeat. This per
spective found expression in traditional rhetoήcal dialogues such as the Dialogue between
Papiscus and Philo with a Jew, and the more enigmatic Dσctrina Jacσbi nuper Baptizati.
Regardless of the rhetoήcal strategy, the purpose remained the same: to ensure Christians
that their status as God's chosen people remained intact. Defeat was not evidence of God's
abandonment and was only temporary. Chήstian enernies, whether foreign invaders or their
Jewish neighbours, were inferior to Chήstians who retained God's blessings and awaited their
repentance. Ιη the end, the empire would regain its status and Christians would retain com
mand of God's empire οη earth.
Acknowledgments
Ι would like to thank Bronwen Neil, Pauline Allen, David Olster, and Michael Stewart for their
encouragement and feedback. All eπors are my own. Ι have opted, whenever possible, to favour the
adjective "Roman" to descήbe the subjects under the norninal hegemony of Constantinople. Ι will
occasionally employ the term "Byzantine," understanding its reference to a people who self
identified asRomans. While this is done pήmaήly to address the importance ofRornan identity to
the authors under consideration, it has the added benefit of avoiding the anachronistic use of a
relatively modern term that would have been foreign to the people of the time.
Notes
Michael Whitby, The Emperor Maurice and His Historian (Oxford: OUP, 1988), 24-7; David Μ. Olster,
rif
The Politics Usurpation in the Seventh Century: Rhetoric and Revolution in Byzantium (Amsterdam: Α. Μ.
Hakkert, 1993); Kaegi, Heraclius Emperor of Byzantium (Cambήdge: CUP, 2003), 42-57.
2 John Haldon, Byzantium in the Seventh Century: The Transformation of α Culture (Cambridge: CUP,
1990), 42-3.
3 Walter Ε. Kaegi, Byzantium and the Early Islamic Conquests (Cambήdge: CUP, 1992), 68-73.
4 Kaegi, Islamic Conquests, 95.
5 Margaret Somers, "The Naπative Constitution of Identity: Α Relational and Network Approach,"
Theory and Society 23 (1994): 605-49, here 605.
6 Somers, "Constitution of Identity," 617.
9 Thomas Sizgoήch has successfully applied the concept to his study of early Islamic identity formation.
See Thomas Sizgoήch, Violence and Belief in Late Antiquity: Militant Devotion in Christianity and Islam
(Philadelphia UPP, 2009), 1-20.
10 Nick Haslam et al., 'Ήumanness, Dehumanization, and Moral Psychology," in The Social Psychology rif
rif
Morality: Exploring the Causes Good and Evil, eds. Μ. Mikulincer and P.R. Shaver (Washington DC:
American Psychological Association, 2012), 203-19, 203-4.
11 Haslam et al., 'Ήumanness, Dehumanization, and Moral Psychology," 205-6.
12 Haslam et al., 'Ήumanness, Dehumanization, and Moral Psychology," 209-10.
13 Cf. Daniel 3 and 6.
14 George of Pisidia, Heraclias, Ι.15-25., in Giorgio di Pisidia. Poemi. vol. Ι, Panegirici Epici, ed. Agostino
Pertusi (Ettal: Buch-Kunstverlag, 1959), 194, 196.
15 George of Pisidia, Heraclias, Ι.65-79 (ed. Pertusi, 118-9).
16 For a detailed description of the sources related to this event, see DanielJ. Sahas, "The Face to Face
Encounter Between Patήarch Sophronius ofJerusalem and the Caliph 'Umar ibn al-Κhattab: Friends
rif rif
or Foes?," in History Christian-Muslim Relations, Volume 5: Encounter Eastern Christianity with Early
Islam, eds. Ε. Grypeou, Μ. Swanson and D. Thomas (Leiden: Bήll, 2006), 33-44.
17 Sophronius of Jerusalem, "Synodical Letter 2.7.3," in ACO series secunda , vol. ΙΙ: Acta Conciliorum
Oecumenicorum: Concilium Universale Constantinopolitanum tertium, 2 parts, ed. Rudolph Reidinger
(Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1990-1992), 490-2.
245
Ryan W. Strickler
18 Sophronius, Homily on the Nativity, ed. Η. Usener, "Weihnachtspredigt des Sophronios," Rheinisches
Museumfur Philologie 41 (1886): 500-16, here 506.
19 Sophronius, Homily on the Nativity (Usener, 507).
20 Sophronius ofJerusalem, 'Ήornily οη Epiphany," in Analekta Hierosolymitikes Stachyologias, vol. V, ed.
Α. Papadopoulos-Kermeus (Brussels: Culture et Civilisation, 1963), 151-68, here 166-7.
21 Sophronius ofJerusalem, Homily on Epiphany (Papadopoulos-Keπneus, 167).
22 Cf. Daniel 9:27, 11:31, and 12:11. See also Matthew 24: 15-6.
23 Maximus the Confessor, Ep. 8 (PG 91, 440C-445B).
24 MarekJankowiak and Phil Booth, 'Ά New Date-List ofthe Works of Maximus the Confessor," in
The Oxford Handbook of Maximus the Confessor, eds. Ρ Allen and Β. Neil (Oxford: OUP, 2015), 19-83,
here 44-5. See also Daniel J. Sahas, "The Demonising Force of the Arab Conquests. The case of
Maximus (ca 580-662) as a Political 'Confessor,"' ]ahrbuch der Osterreichischen Byzantinistik 53 (2003):
97-116.
25 Maximus the Confessor, Ep. 14 (PG 91, 540Α).
26 Maximus the Confessor, Ep. 14 (PG 91, 541 BC).
27 Aήetta Papaconstantinou, "Between 'Umma and Dhimma: The Christians of the Middle East under
the Umayyads," Annales islamologiques 42 (2008): 127-56, here 140.
28 GerritJ. Reinink, 'Έarly Chήstian Reactions to the Building ofthe Dome ofthe Rock inJerusalem,"
Khristianskii Vostok 2 (2001): 227-41. Stephen Shoemaker has recendy challenged this consensus view
in Stephen J. Shoemaker, Apocalypse of Empire (Philadelphia: UPP, 2018), however his views remain
controversial.
29 Gerrit J. Reinink. "Ps.-Methodius: Α Concept of History in Response to the Rise of Islam," in The
Byzantine and Early Islamic Near East: Problems in the Literary Source Materials, eds. Αν. Cameron and L.I.
Conrad (Princeton: Darwin Press, 1992), 149-87, 154-5.
30 Pseudo-Methodius, Apocalypse, ΧΙ (ed. and trans. F.J. Martinez, 'Έastern Chήstian Apocalyptic in the
Early Muslim Peήod: Pseudo-Methodius and Pseudo-Athanasius" (PhD diss., Catholic University of
Ameήca, 1985)).
31 Pseudo-Methodius, Apocalypse, ΧΙΙΙ.
32 Pseudo-Methodius, Apocalypse, ΧΙΙΙ.
33 John C. Reeves, "Sefer Zerubbabel: The Prophetic Vision of Zerubbabel ben Shealtiel," in Old
Testament Pseudepigrapha: More Noncanonical Scriptures, Volume 1, eds. J.R. Davila and Α. Panayotov
(Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013), 448-66, ηο. 148; Hagith Sivan, "From Byzantine to Persian
Jerusalem: Jewish Perspectives and Jewish/Christian Polernics," GRBS 41 (2000): 277-306.
34 C.f, Robert Devreesse, "La fin inedite d'une lettre de saint Maxime: un bapteme force de Juifs et de
a
Samaήtains Carthage en 632," Revue des sciences religieuses 17 (1937), 25-35; Ryan W. Stήckler, "The
Wolves of Arabia: Α Reconsideration ofMaximus the Confessor's Epistula 8," Byzantion 86 (2016):
419-39.
35 Examples include the anonymous treatise 25 Chapters to Counter the ]ews (V. Deroche, ed., "La
polemique anti-judaϊque au Vle et VIIe siecle: un memento inedit, les Kephalia." ΤΜ 11 (1992):
276-311), the anonymous Doctrina]acobi nuper Baptizati (V. Deroche, ed., "Juifs et Chretiens dans
rif
l'Orient du VIIe siecle." ΤΜ 11 (1992), 17-273), the anonymous Trophies Damascus (G. Bardy, ed.,
"Les Trophees de Damas, controversejudeo-chretienne du VIIe siecle," ΡΟ 15.), the anonymous Disputation
rif
Between Gregentius and Herbanus the ]ew (Α. Berger, ed., Life and Works Saint Gregentios, Archbishop of
Taphar (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2006), 450-802); and the anonymous Dialogue Between the]ews
Papiscus and Philo (A.C. McGiffert, ed., Dialogue Between α Christian and α]ew (New Υork: Christian
Literature Co, 1889)).
36 C.f, David Μ. Olster, Roman Defeat, Christian Response and the Literary Construction rif the ]ew
(Philadelphia: UPP, 1994); Vincent Deroche, "Polernique antijudaϊque et l'emergence de l'Islam
(VIIe-VIIIe siecles)," REB 57 (1999): 141-61; Aveήl Cameron, "Blarning the Jews: The Seventh
Century Invasions of Palestine in Context," ΤΜ 14 (2002): 57-78.
37 Olster, Roman Defeat, 21.
38 Cf. Exodus 32.
39 Dialogue Between Papiscus and Philo and α Monk (ed. McGiffert, 75).
40 Chήstian Boudignon, "Le temps du saint bapteme n'est pas encore venu: Nouvelles considerations sur
la Doctrina]acobi," in Les dialogues adversvs Ivdaeos: Permanences et mutations d'une tradition polemique, eds.
S. Morlet, Ο. Munnich and Β. Pouderon (Turnhout: Brepols, 2013), 237-56, here 239.
41 P.W. van der Horst, 'Ά Short Note οη the Doctrina]acobi Nuper Baptizati," Zutot 6 (2009), 1-6, here 4.
246
42 Doctrina]acobi Ι.3 (Old Slavonic translation) (ed. and trans. Dagron and Deroche, 73-4) Α lacuna exists
in the Greek text which Dagron and Deroche fill using the Old Slavonic translation.
43 Olster, Roman Defeat, 161. Marie-France Auzepy argues, based οη the frequency with which μάμζιρος
appears in the Doctrina, that the teπn was "used as an insult by Chήstians againstJews." This conclusion
rnisses the point of the author's use of the term, which was to rnimicJewish colloquial speech. M.F.
Auzepy, "From Palestine to Constantinople (Eighth-Ninth Centuήes): Stephen the Sabaite andJohn
of Damascus," in Languages and Cultures of Eastern Christianity: Greek, ed. S.F. Johnson (Farnham:
Ashgate, 2015), 339-442, η. 84.
44 David Olster suggests that this, combined with the author's farniliarity withJewish social organisation,
is evidence that the Doctrina was composed by an actual baptisedJew. Olster, Roman Defeat, 160-1.
Most recent scholars, follow Deroche's assertion of a creative Chήstian author, based οη the author's
reliance οη geneήc constructs of adversus Judaeos literature and the fact that μάμζιρος could have been
known by a Chήstian through its appearance in the Septuagint. See Deroche, "Polernique
antijudaϊque," η. 30; van der Horst, 'Ά Short Note," 2; and Sarah Gador-Whyte, "Christian-Jewish
Conflict in the Light of Heraclius' Forced Conversions and the Beginning of Islam," in Religious
Confiict from Early Christianity to the Rise of Islam, eds. W. Mayer and Β. Neil (Berlin: Walter de
Gruyter, 2013), 201-14, at 212.
45 Doctrina Jacobi, V.1 (eds. Dagron and Deroche, 183-5).
46 Most recendy, Christian Boudignon has argued that the Doctrina was a well-researched and highly
creative composition designed to counter Chήstian objections that the Jews were not suitable for
baptism. See Boudi gnon, "Le temps du saint bapteme n'est pas encore venu," 255---6.
47 DoctrinaJacobi, ΙΙΙ.1-2 (eds. Dagron and Deroche, 153-5).
247
14
PROVINCIAL IDENTITIES ΙΝ
BYZANTIUM
Anthony Kaldellis
'Άs you all know, Ι was not prejudiced against your lord because he is a Bulgaήan and
Ι a Roman; moreover, Ι am a Roman fi:-om Asia Minor, which is far away, and not
fi:-om the Romans who live in Thrace and Macedonia." - Eustathios Daphomeles to
the followers of the Bulgaήan lord Ibatzes, after he blinded him through a ruse.1
Provincial identities in Byzantium have never yet been studied systematically. What we lack are
not sources but an interpretive fi:-amework within which to make sense of them, one that is true
to the way in which they were understood at the time and to how they interfaced with other
kinds of identities. Ιη the absence of a systematic treatment, what we face instead is the jostling
of too many models that are both untested and incommensurate with each other, leaving us
confused. For example, there is the model of Byzantium as a "multiethnic empire," which
presupposes the existence of many ethnic groups in the empire's terήtoήes. Which were they?
Until 2019, there was ηο focused study of ethnicity in Byzantium and so potentially any group
that had an ethnic-seeming name could be listed as such. Α book fi:-om 1985 listed
"Macedonians, Cappadocians, Bulgaήans, and Varangians."2 But, as we will see, the first two
were not separate ethnic groups but ethnic Romans living in two different regions of the
empire and serving in the armies posted there.
Another model postulates a sharp disjunction between provincials and Constantinopolitans,
who allegedly looked down οη provincials with such haughty snobbery that there could be ηο
common identity between them.3 While snobbery is attested, it is exaggerated here. It never
oveπode the common Romanness that united Constantinopolitans and provincials. There is ηο
reason to review here the countless texts that postulate precisely such a common Romanness or
the gήd of pan-impeήal institutions that manifested it in practice. One need note only that, due
to the demographic realities of premodern cities, most residents of the capital or their ancestors
had come originally fi:-om the provinces and did not feel that they had to hide the fact. This was
also true of the court elite in the capital at any time: many or most were also provincials.
Consider the court ofJustinian: almost all its top members came from the provinces except one:
Theodora. Interestingly, one sometimes encounters the opposite model in play, namely that
Constantinople was a cosmopolitan and multi-ethnic place whose population came fi:-om all
over the world. This model, whose factual basis is non-existent, also obliterates Romanness
along with any distinction between the provinces and foreign lands. It overshoots the mark:
248 DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-17

Provincial Identities in Byzantium
Constantinople was a city of immigrants, yes, but before the twelfi:h century they came fi:-om
the Roman provinces, not fi:-om foreign lands (and the later Latin ex-pat communities tended to
form separate, self-governed enclaves).4
Υet another model is drawn fi:-om scholarship οη the ήse of the modern nation-state. It makes
the blanket statement that before modern industήalization there was ηο way for illiterate peasant
communities to belong to an "imagined community" larger than their local farm, village, or
town. Identity was not only pήmaήly local; it was exclusively so. This model is demonstrably false
in the case ofByzantium, whose farming communities were thickly networked into the apparatus
of the state and quite aware of their identity as both Romans and Chήstians. Chήstianity, let us
remember, was overarching and transregional and yet still managed to spread to the countryside
without the benefit of factoήes and newspapers. Still, this model of exclusive localism does have
advocates among Byzantinists, who sometimes deploy it explicidy to deny the Byzantines's
Roman identity (though never their Chήstianity). There is too much evidence against this model
for it to be viable in this form, but, if we drop its exclusive aspect, it must factor into any model
for provincial identities: somehow the local did nest within the global.5
This proliferation of models and categoήes creates confusion, which is in turn aggravated by
the field's commitment to denying the Byzantines's Roman identity, ηο matter the cost to the
coherence of the source-record. This makes it impossible to understand local provincial identities
properly too. For example, one scholar has characteήsed Leon Tornikios, the rebel of 1047, as
being "ultimately of Armenian descent, but a resident of Adήanople," and Isaakios Kornnenos,
the rebel of1057, as "ultimately of Macedonian descent but [who] possessed estates in Anatolia."6
This is a chaotic jumble of categoήes. The term "descent" sneaks modern racial categoήes into
the picture, where they do not belong (they imply that a person's putative biological oήgins retain
their significance in defiance of one's cultural profιle). 'Άrmenian descent" merely racialises a
conjecture drawn fi:-om Tornikios's name. "Macedonian descent" is basically meaningless as a
modern scholarly statement, as Byzantine Macedonia was either a region or an army, not an
ethnic group. The two men's local aspect is furthermore reduced to a mere fact of residence or
property, not identity, and the fact that both men were first and foremost Romans is occluded.
This is a mess. Το get out of it, we need to rebuild our categoήes fi:-om the sources up. This
chapter will try to make sense of Byzantines's provincial identities within the overarching fi:-a
mework of their Roman identity, which, by the rniddle Byzantine peήod if not earlier, was an
unambiguously ethnic one. The Romans of Byzantium were, roughly speaking, that part of its
population that was Greek-speaking and Chήstian Orthodox. It was not these qualities alone that
made them Roman, but we can track them more easily through them. This Roman identity,
moreover, was not exclusively focalised οη Constantinople (which was also known as New
Rome), but οη "Romania," which was the common name for the whole of the Roman state and
its society; afi:er the tenth or eleventh century it also became its official name in court documents.
Still, Constantinople did occasionally serve as a focal point for Byzantine Roman identity, given
how important it was as the seat of all the institutions that bound Romania together. Thus, local
identities, those of village, town, or province, were imbήcated within this Romanness. As this
chapter will show, they were not independent, pre-existing, or more "authentic" identities. They
were, in fact, themselves artifacts and aspects of Romanness in almost all the forms of their
expression. One did not drop below Romania's threshold merely by going local.
Roman and Local Identities ίη Byzantium

Few Byzantine authors bothered to theoήse the relationship between the global and the local.
One who did was the patήarch Photios, and he did so only because he was presented with an
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interesting challenge: how could saint Paul be both a Roman and a Jew? How could he be a
Roman and fi-om Tarsos? Now, the context of this exercise differed fi-om Romanίa because in
Paul's time Roman identity was more restήcted in geographical extension. Το absolve Paul
from the charge of lying about it, Photios had to postulate that each person could have a
number of "fatherlands" (patridaι): one's ancestry (here the Jews), native city (Tarsos), civic
community (Rome), and religion (Chήstianity, whose fatherland was "heavenly Jerusalem").7
By the middle Byzantine peήod, these layers of identity were in practice more simplified and
streamlined, at least for most Romans. Το be sure, one might still have converted to Orthodoxy
from another religion or have been born outside the empire and become a naturalised Roman,
but this was not the norm. Let us look again at Isaakios Komnenos, mentioned above. Psellos
says that he came fi-om the village of Pella, but that through his military campaigns he "brought
honor to both his patris and his village," his patris here being Romanίa. What Psellos expected
from generals was for them to police the separation between the Roman world and the bar
baήan one beyond the Danube and the Euphrates.8 Historical texts, military manuals, and even
religious services from this peήod make it clear that the armies and soldiers were charged with
defending the Roman terήtory as a whole, as their patris, not just their home distήct and towns.
One text specifies that "a general is not to avenge only a city that has been attacked: he ought to
be a champion of his entire patris. "9 Psellos declared himself a "Roman patήot," and he was not
alone among Byzantine authors (or characters who appear in Byzantine texts). 10
Υet at the same time, the evidence for local patriotism is also undeniable. Some emperors
with provincial oήgins rebuilt their hometowns and villages and drew attention to the fact that
they were doing so Gustinian and Justiniana Pήma, Mauήkios and Arabissos in Cappadocia);
conversely, it was bitterly humiliating or descήbed as poignantly sad when their place of oήgin
was captured by the enemy, as Αmοήοη was in 838 and Kastamone, an ancestral estate of the
Komnenoi, in the 1070s.11 Byzantine authors likewise proudly mentioned their provincial city
of oήgin. Examples of this pήde are found in authorssuch as Agathias in the later sixth century,
who expressed the wish to repay Myήna for reaήng him, and Konstantinos of Rhodes in the
tenth, who expressed huge pride in his native island; after 904, Kaminiates longed (pσthσs) to
return to his patris Thessalonike when he was seized as a captive; they forged histoήes in order
to boost the credentials of their native town, which Arethas did for Patras in the Chrσnicle rif
Mσnembasia (also tenth century); they took its name as their own, for example, Michael
Attaleiates in the eleventh century and the Choniates brothers in the twelfth; they celebrated its
bishops and saints, as Michael Choniates did for Chonai; and, when it became fashionable in the
later peήod, they wrote encomia for it (such as Theodoros Metochites for Nikaia and Bessaήon
for Trebizond). What we call Constantinopolitan "snobbery" was just the capital's version of
the same thing, albeit super-charged, given the City's pre-eminence, power, and greater access
to mateήal resources. 12
Ιη naπative sources, the local patris of prominent Roman could be cited either by town (or
village), by ancient province (e.g., Paphlagonia), or by theme (e.g., the Anatolikon), depending
οη the text's style and level of granulaήty. One might express ties of affective identity with
someone fi-om the same region, for example, hσmσpatriσi Kappadσkes, or the same city, for
example, hσmσpatrides of Thessalonike, both phrases occurήng in the same text. One could be
bom in Constantinople but still have one's patris in the provinces, for example, Rhodes, just as
in Greece and Spain today most native-born Athenians and Madήleiios will say that they are
"fi-om" the village of their parents or grandparents. One might also leave Constantinople and
return to the patris, for example, Paphlagonia. 13 It was a routine part of saint's Lives to comment
οη the local oήgin of the saint and, if possible, to praise it for being the kind of place that would
produce such a saint, or for being so fortunate as to be honoured by him, or both. Panegyήc
250
also required praise of the honour and the place of origin, and there were explicit instructions
about how to do so. But "if neither his patris nor his nation is conspicuously famous, you should
omit this topic and consider whether his family has prestige or not." 14
Byzantine patήotism, or identity with respect to the locality, thus operated οη two main
registers: that ofRomanίa as a whole and that of one's oήgin, whether village, city, province, or
theme. These were not in tension or opposition with each other but clearly nested in a re
lationship of vertical coordination. Each produced its own exclusions, foreigners, that is, non
Romans, in the first case and people from other towns or provinces in the second. They are
nicely coordinated in the Life of the patήarch Euthychios of Constantinople, which recounts
the flow of refugees to the city of Amaseia duήng the Persian invasions of the late sixth century.
The text refers to the city's "indigenous inhabitants" (autochthones), then to "the foreign (eth
nikoι) refugees, who were mostly Georgians," and finally to the "citizens of the other cities"
(xenopolitaι) such as Nikopolis, Neokaisareia, and the surrounding region, who sought safety
with the saint.15 Ethnikoi meant non-Roman.
It just so happens that there is a perfecdy serviceable model that we can use for this nexus of
nested identities; it comes from aRoman author who was trying to precisely solve this problem,
but it has likely never been applied to Romanίa. Ι am referήng to Cicero's model of the duae
patriae, the "two fatherlands" of most Romans, the one being Rome itself and the other his
native town or land.
All people from small towns have two countήes, one by nature and the other by
citizenship ... But the one which takes its name fi:-om the state as a whole [Rome]
should have first place in our affections. That is the country for which we should be
willing to die, to which we should devote ourselves heart and soul... Υet the one
which gave birth to us is dear to us in a way not very different from that which took
•
us 1n. 16
Α model such as this was necessary for the aftermath of the unification of Italy when most
Romans were ηο longer natives of the city itself They needed ways to negotiate between their
local and their Roman commitments, and perhaps not all of them would have set the scales of
this balance in the same way as Cicero. Local citizenship and pήde continued to matter even as
Rome was increasingly understood as the "common patria" of the entire empire, including by
Chήstian authors.17 Cicero's model proved to be a flexible and enduήng fi:-amework for the
articulation of local and Roman identities, as we see in the fourth- century Latin author
Ausonius.18 Ιη fact, when it comes to the notion of Rome as the common fatherland, a direct
line of continuity links the early empire to Romanίa.
The notion ofRome as "the common patria" was enshήned inJustinian's Digest, taken fi:-om
the wήtings of the juήst Modestinus (circa 250 AD), a student ofUlpian. From there, the idea
passed into the Greek translation ofRoman law, the Basilika, which was issued in circa 900. But
it was not long after Justinian that the idea was transfeπed to Constantinople, in its legal
capacity as New Rome. Ιη one of his laws, Herakleios (610-41) called Constantinople "the
common fatherland (patris) of all."19 This was not some obscure legal theory known only to
juήsts. The monk Sabbas, who wrote the Life of Makarios, abbot of Pelekete, in the ninth
century, began his narrative by stating that the saint's patris was Constantinople, "which bestows
its fame upon all other patridai fi:-om its own stores that are drawn from the power of the
monarchy that resides there and the steadfastness of its faith."20 Other fatherlands bask in the
glow cast by the capital. Moreover, the theory had seήous legal consequences οη the ground. Α
legal text from the twelfi:h century, the Ecloga Basilicorum, explains:
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Anthony Kaldellis
Υou have learned that a man who is brought to tήal in the court to whose jurisdiction
he belongs is required to appear there, namely in the city where he dwells. But know
this too, that this here city, namely NewRome, is the comrnon court for all, both for
those who live in it and those who live in the other lands, because it happens to be the
common patris. Everyone who finds himself here, whether he is fi:-om Thessalonike,
Raidestos, or any other land, is ήghtly sumrnoned to appear here, and he cannot say,
"this is not my legal residence or the court to whose jurisdiction Ι am subject; so come
to the place where Ι live and bήng the motion there against me." For it has been said
that Rome, namely the City, is the common patris of all and the common court of
• • 21
JUStlce.
Legally, all Romans could be treated as New Romans.
The Administrative Basis of Provincial Identities

Byzantine sources mention many groups that lived in the empire, but they were not all of the
same kind and should not be treated as analytically equivalent. These groups included actual
foreigners who were understood to be ethnically different (e.g., Armenians and Slavs)-these
were the ethnikoi in the Life of Euthyrnios that was quoted above. There were also Roman
populations identified by the province in which they lived (e.g., Paphlagonia) or theme (e.g.,
the Opsikion theme), as well as arrnies whose names matched that of the region in which they
were setded (e.g., the "Macedonians," meaning the field army of Macedonia, or the Anatolikoi
in the theme of Anatolikon). These arrnies were recruited overwhelrningly among theRomans
of the provinces but could include contingents of foreign mercenaries. Our sources are gen
erally good at keeping these groups distinct, but sometimes they jumble them together for
rhetoήcal effect, creating potential confusion. For example, the acerbic teacher Ioannes Tzetzes
(of the twelfth century) complained about how infested with thieves Constantinople was. They
were "not of one voice and nation, but a mix of languages, too many ... Cretans and Turks,
Alans, Rhodians, and Chiots." But the worst thieves of all, he concludes, are those that are
ordained saints in the City of Constantine.22
Now, in the twelfth century, Cretans, Rhodians, and Chiots did not speak a different
language nor were they a separate ethnicity from the mainstream Roman; Turks and Alans did
and were. Tzetzes mixed them all together, probably in order to score some rhetoήcal points
against the islanders, though not as vicious a point as the one that he scored against the clergy.
Even so, his attack gestures toward a perception of difference, a sense that those islanders were
somehow up to ηο good and that they, therefore, had a partially separate identity. His con
temporary poet Konstantinos Manasses also attacked the Cypriots as stupid and smelly, so that
one simply had to punch them in the face.23 Tzetzes implies that these types were an ethnos.
Were they? And what did that mean?
We have to look to antiquity again for answers, the source ofRomanίa's fundamental modes
and orders. Ιη the eastern parts of the earlyRoman empire, the word ethnos was a technical term
for a province. Grammatically, it was conjoined with the genitive plural name of the putative
nation that inhabited each province, but they were named afi:er it. So, for example, the ethnos of
the Cappadocians and the ethnos of the Galatians simply meant the province of Cappadocia the
province of Galatia, and so οη. We should not mistake these formations for ethnic groups. They
were created for imperial administrative convenience and did not necessarily map onto the
world of pre-existing ethnicities whom the Romans had conquered or absorbed. Hence,
scholars call them pseudo-ethnicities.24
252
By the early Byzantine peήod, this terrninology was completely naturalised in the voca
bulary. Histoήans called the provinces of the empire ethne and were not confused by that into
thinking that they were talking about different ethnic groups or nations.25 They could, at the
same time, use the term ethnos to refer to an actual ethnic group or nation. Therefore, consisting
of many provinces, or ethne, did not by itself make the empire "multi-ethnic." (Α note οη
methodology: the existence of ethnic groups in any peήod cannot be proven simply by the use
of words cognate with "ethnicity," such as ethnos. One needs to adduce evidence for the
existence of the actual traits that define an ethnicity along with contemporary perceptions that
those traits did indeed mark groups off from each other in ethnic ways.)
However, over the course of time-and we are talking about the passage of many centuries
here-the mentality of the province-as-ethnσs began, through the consistent operation of im
peήal institutions, to generate realities of its own. It did not go so far as to create actual eth
nicities οη the ground, but it did create regional identities that were defined by the impeήal
province. Specifically, the provinces structured the mechanisms by which provincials interacted
with imperial officials, the emperor, and the empire at large; they set the parameters for
channelling local ambitions, especially through the impeήal cult, the assembly of the province,
and competition among the cities of a province for honours and status; they regulated much of
the adrninistration of life, fi:-om the judicial circuits of the governors to tax-collecting and
funding structures; they incentivised the adoption of regional identity-labels such as Asianos and
Syros that would never have been used in this way in the absence of the province (even an
arch-Hellenist such as Libanios called himself a Syros for that reason); they brought into being
borders that did not exist before the province was created and thereby defined the hoήzons of
the local; and, above all, they imbήcated all this within the empire's overall structure. The
provinces were one of the ways in which the empire created local subjectivities (Romanisation
and Chήstianisation, already mentioned above, were two others).26
The emperors themselves fostered the establishment of provincial identities. Hadήan
especially, who travelled extensively throughout the empire, used art and coins to personify the
provinces and give them distinct identities within the overall constellation of empire. Justinian
legislated many of his reforms at the level of the province, and many of his laws are prefaced
with rnini-histoήes of each province, couched as the tale of its ethnos' ancient relationship with
the Romans. Provinces were thereby endowed with distinctive attήbutes and histoήes.27
Provincials embraced, appropriated, and naturalised these adrninistrative divisions, which
were thereby "translated in terms of regional identity... and re-imagined as an affective
bond."28 Here are some indexes fi:-om the early Byzantine period of the power that they
eventually came to hold.Like a cartel, the professors of rhetoήc at Athens in the fourth century
apportioned incorning students among themselves based οη their provinces of oήgin (aπanged
by contiguous clusters).29 When the praetoήan prefect Rufinus had destroyed his political ήvals
Tatianos and Proklos in the early 390s, he banned all people fi:-om their native province ofLykia
from holding political office (the ban was lifted when Rufinus was killed in 395).30 When
Theodoretos, bishop of Kyrrhos in Syήa in the mid-fifi:h century and an Aramaic-speaker
himself, listed the dialects of Aramaic, he did so by province: the Osrhoenians, Syrians,
Euphratensians, Palestinians, and Phoenicians.31 "Arab" came into widespread use as a pseudo
ethnic term only after the creation of the province of Arabia. Arabs who appear in Roman
sources are not who we call by that name (the latter are called "Saracens" in the sources),
merely inhabitants of the province.32 Finally, among the greatest successes of the provincial
system was its adoption by the Church as the basis for its supraregional organisation. Bishops, as
career bureaucrats, operated within the fi:-amework of the province ηο less than did governors
and other impeήal officials. This was already the case before the Council ofNikaia (325), which
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Anthony Kaldellis
took that fact for granted. The Council in Troullo (692) decreed explicitly that "the organi
zation of ecclesiastical affairs shall follow the pattern of civil and state organisation."33
Byzantine naπative texts that feature a large cast of characters, including histoήography and
ascetic literature such as Ioannes Moschos's Spiritual Meadow, routinely identify their protagonists
by oήgin, whether by city, broad region (Gaul, Egypt), or province. These identifications could
be quite technical. For example, a hagiographer said that the patris of saint Gregoήos ofNazianzos
was Cappadocia Secunda, though such administrative precision was rare in literary texts.34 What
is interesting about these identifications is that they are ofi:en linked to the ethnos or genos of the
person in question (genos being another flexible term that could refer to family, place of oήgin,
race, "kind," etc.). So Byzantine texts are full of people whose ethnos or genos was
Constantinopolitan, Rhodian, Cypήot, Phyrgian, and Cappadocian. Ιη the middle Byzantine
peήod, the military distήcts, called themata afi:er the eighth century, were supeήmposed οη the
ancient provinces. Thus, we begin to have references to people whose "genos was from
Opsikion."35 This was the name of an army stationed in its own distήct in northwest Asia Minor;
never in its history had there been an ethnic group with that name. Likewise, the Anatolikon
theme, whose name is deήved from the late Roman field army of Oήens: in the epic poem
Digenis Akritis, the Muslim emir asks his future brothers-in-law, "Who are you and where are you
from? What is your genos? What thema do you live in?" Το this they answer, "We are from the
Anatolikon, born of noble Romans."36 Also the Boukellaήoi theme, which was named afi:er a
type of retinue: Psellos refers in one of his letters to a certain Boukellaήos who visited him. He
was probably not referήng to a soldier, but to a resident of the theme.37
We must be discriminating when real and pseudo-ethnonyrns are jumbled together, as we
saw with Tzetzes above. Ιη the early-seventh century, Sophronios, the future patήarch of
Jerusalem, wrote an account of the Miracles of Saints Kyros and Ioannes. One section is dedicated
to the miracles expeήenced by non-locals (i.e., non-Egyptians), 'Ί mean Romans [of the city of
Rome], Galatians, Cilicians, Asians, Islanders [i.e., provincia Insularum], Phoenicians,
Constantinopolitans, Bithynians, Ethiopians, Thracians, Medes, Arabs, Palestinians, Syήans,
Elamites, and all the ethne that live under the sky." But only the Ethiopians, Medes, and
Elamites were actual foreigners. The rest of this long list of supposedly "foreign" ethne consists
entirely of provincial pseudo-ethnonyms.38
Incidentally, it is possible that the provinces of the early Byzantine empire did contain ethnic
groups that were regarded as more or less distinguishable from the Roman majoήty. The
systematic study of ethnicity in this context has not yet begun, so Ι can offer here only pre
liminary remarks. The Isaurians (in south Asia Minor) were regarded in some contexts as
ethnically different, but Isauήa was also the name of a province.Native Egyptians might also be
regarded as culturally distinct in some contexts, though this requires more research and, besides,
their name was that of a region in the empire and two of its provinces. Ι have found ηο
evidence that Aramaic-speakers were regarded as ethnically different in the early Byzantine
peήod, and they were, besides, spread across many provinces. Jews and Samaήtans were de
finitely regarded as separate groups; ηο provinces were named after them. Finally, some
Thracians retained a sense of ethnicity, though they were otherwise fully assimilated into the
Roman mainstream. The name by which they went in this peήod was Bessoi, which was not
the name of a province, meaning that it meant something. The emperor Leon Ι (457-474) was
ethnically a Bessos; in terms of his province, he was a Dacian.39
None of these groups were part of the more homogeneous ethnic teπain of the middle
Byzantine empire, except the Jews. Α new set of characters took their place, including Slavs,
Bulgars, Armenians, and Arabs, who conquered, settled, or were settled οη the empire's former
and cuπent provinces.40 Υet even in this new environment, the Romans continued to use the
254
names of the ancient provinces for the purposes of classification and identification. As late as the
fourteenth century, the statesman and essayist Theodoros Metochites classified the ancient
empire's writers of Greek into Egyptians, Syrians, Phoenicians, Palestinians, and Asians (the
latter group including the Ionians). Ιη this case, imperial geography had become a system of
literary analysis. We do not use it today, of course, but Metochites was certain that he could tel1
41
the stylistic differences among these groups.
Those groups also provided the basis for Byzantine antiquaήan research into the ethnic
background of the empire's remaining terήtories. The key source for this is the work On the
Themes written by the scholar-emperor Konstantinos VII Porphyrogennetos (d. 959).
Konstantinos lists the ancient "tήbes and nations" that populated the empire's themes, going
back to mythical times in some cases, for example, the Trojans, in his section οη the Opsikion
theme.42 The first theme that he discusses is Anatolikon, which encompassed terήtory fi-om five
ethne, by which he means Justinianic provinces: Phrygia Saloutaria, Lykaonia, Pamphylia,
Phrygia Kapatiane, Lykia, and Cappadocia. But οη the next page, he treats these provinces as
ethnic groups who were "fi-ee" and lived under their own native rulers before they were
conquered by the Romans. After the conquest, "they were all enslaved and became compact
[or mixed together: συμμιγεις] under one authority," namely the Roman monarchy. He makes
a similar point when he introduces the European themes later οη. When these too were oή
ginally conquered by Roman empire, it "recast and reconstituted everyone into one form of
rule and forced them all to live under the same yoke." 43 Ιη a certain sense, Konstantinos was
restating what Cicero had been told by his brother, that "this is Rome, a state formed by a
gatheήng of nations."44
The history of pre-Roman Asia Minor was considerably more complicated than
Konstantinos makes it sound here. What he has done is to reverse-engineer the pήor history of
the "nations" of Asia Minor from the names of the Justinian provinces. The Roman admin
istration was here extending its reach over the past as well, to colonise the Byzantine histoήcal
imagination. Of course, Konstantinos had read widely and knew that matters were not always
that simple. Ιη the section οη the Boukellaήoi theme, he says correctly that it deήved its name
not fi-om a place or an ethnos (here probably meaning an ethnic group) but fi-om a type of
military unit. He adds that the ethnic group who used to live there were the Maήandynoi, who
are attested in ancient sources as living between Bithynia and Paphlagonia. But these
Maήandynoi came to be assimilated to the Galatians, or annexed to the province of Galatia-it
is not clear what Konstantinos means here. The Galatians, at any rate, were "colonists of the
Franks" (he means "Celts") who settled there in the Hellenistic peήod.45
The Weak Valence of Provincial Identity

Let us look closer at the Galatians. Oήginally, they were Celts who invaded Asia Minor and
settled there in the third century BC. As late as the peήod of Augustus, they lived under their
own kings and spoke Celtic. However, given their linguistic environment they gradually
switched to Greek and began to be called Keltograikσi or Hellenσgalatai, that is, Greek-speaking
Celts. By the fourth century AD, they were thoroughly assimilated to the dominant Roman
culture. Themistion, a philosopher and president of the Constantinopolitan Senate, descήbed
them as follows:
Look at these Galatians, the ones in the Pontos. These men crossed over into Asia
under the law of war... but now ηο one would ever refer to them as barbaήan but as
thoroughly Roman. For while their ancestral name has endured, their way of life is
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Anthony Kaldellis
now akin to our own. They pay the same taxes as we do, they enlist in the same ranks
as we do, they accept governors οη the same terms as the rest and abide by the same
laws.46
The last possible reference to a Galatian language-or a regional accented dialect of Greek-is
in the early-sixth century (a man was possessed by a demon and when he recovered he could
speak only Galatian, whatever that meant).47 By the early seventh century, the only distinctive
aspect of the Galatians was that, apparently, they ate well ("We have eaten like Galatians!").48
Over the course of a millennium, a foreign people had been assimilated, their difference re
duced to a mere regional stereotype. This is one way of defining "Romanization."
Mter circa 500 AD, provincial identities consisted of little more than such stereotypes,
though they were typically linked to the ancient provinces, not to the themes. Most of them
were negative. Cilicians were apparently quick to anger. The name of the Lykaonians made
people think of werewolves. Was Tzetzes echoing a common perception of his time that
islanders were thieves? The idea that Cretans were liars was an ancient stereotype. Was
Manasses echoing popular perceptions when he said that Cypήots were stupid? Sometimes such
tropes were internalised. Α Calabrian wrote in the margins of a manuscript: 'Όη many oc
casions the desire to study seized me. But Ι abandoned my studies because Ι am stupid and
49
above all because Ι am Calabήan, and Calabrians are a barbaήc race inimical to the truth."
The two groups that were the most targeted in middle Byzantium for such abuse and ή
dicule were the Cappadocians and the Paphlagonians, the first because they lived by the frontier
and tended to dominate the Roman army, and the second because their networks were
unusually well represented at the court. Konstantinos VII devoted a section of On the Themes to
sayings about the "evil character" of the Cappadocians, including "The Three Bad C's:
Cappadocia-Crete-Cilicia," and the joke, 'Ά snake once bit a Cappadocian, and the snake
died." The foul reputation of Justinian's widely hated praetorian prefect Ioannes the
Cappadocian did not help the province's image, though Konstantinos also listed all the Fathers
of the Church who came fi-om there.50 These stereotypes were often just recycled from an
tiquity, which means that to a partial degree Byzantine provincial identities were just classical
literary stereotypes. When the western ambassador Liudprand called the emperor Nikephoros ΙΙ
Phokas (963-969) a "horned, double-limbed, bήstly, wild, bumpkin, barbaήan, hard and hairy
one, rebel, and Cappadocian," he was directly copying Cicero.51 Psellos hypothesised that the
Cappadocians were so difficult to deal with either because their national ancestor had imparted
those traits to them or else because of their climate, two classical modes of ethnographic
explanation.52
Prejudices against Paphlagonians also had a long prehistory, going back to classical times,
especially the comedies of Aήstophanes, fi-om which the name never recovered. When
Eustathios of Thassalonike wanted to slander a group of Paphlagonians who collaborated with
the evil emperor Andronikos Ι Komnenos (1183-5) he held their low esteem in the eyes of the
ancient Greeks explicitly against them.53 Α specific damaging association was the region's re
putation for producing court eunuchs-"a wretched eunuch fi-om the wastes of Paphlagonia,
who has insinuated himself into political power," as one of them was called. They were as
sociated with pigs and themselves said to have hairy asses.54
Another provincial group that gained notoήety in the eleventh century were the
Macedonians. The incidence of provincial stereotypes rose and fell depending οη historical
circumstances, and the Macedonians came into prominence because the empire's Balkan armies
became more important after the conquest of Bulgaήa by Basileios ΙΙ in 1018. Not only did
they become more important, but they also played a greater role in impeήal affairs and
256
participated in a number of rebellions against the centre duήng that century. They are descήbed
as "an arrogant lot" who were always ready to set their audacious schemes into motion.But we
must be careful: these characterizations were used not for a provincial population but specifi
cally for the empire's Macedonian field army, whose base was in Adήanople. These "arrogant
Macedonians" were its officer corps. They were in all respects ethnically Roman, as we see for
example when a mixed army is descήbed as consisting of "Thracians, Macedonians, and other
Romans as well as barbaήans."55
It was always possible to push back against these negative stereotypes, and some authors did
so, often in a defensive manner, revealing that they had gained wide currency and acceptance.
The ecclesiastical histoήan Sokrates in the mid-fifth century digressed to praise the excellent
national character of the Phrygians and the Paphlagonians, who neither swear nor attend the
games and who practice self-control, unlike the Scythians and the Thracians who are quick
tempered and the easterners, who are addicted to pleasures. He had a specific rhetoήcal purpose
in saying this, which was to defend the Novatian sect with which he was somehow affιliated,
and which had emerged in those provinces. Regional tropes, it seems, had been deployed
against the Novatians. Ιη the early sixth century, Severos, the anti-Chalcedonian patήarch of
Antioch, criticised his fellow-traveller Dioskoros ΙΙ, the patήarch of Alexandήa, for calling
Cappadocia a "waste country" whose bishops could be ignored. "The Alexandήans believe that
the sun ήses for them alone," he added (Severos himself was fi-om Pisidia, not far from
Cappadocia).56 And Lives of saints whose patris was Cappadocia and Galatia pointedly praise
those homelands by citing Scήpture and the Church Fathers. The pήest Arethas, oήginally from
Patras in the Peloponnese but presently to be appointed the bishop ofKaisareia in Cappadocia,
praised, in a banquet speech at the court, the fidelity and bravery of the Cappadocians who
were defending the empire against the Arabs.57
Conclusions
We must distinguish among foreign groups that were present οη impeήal terήtory (e.g., Goths
in the early peήod, Slavs and Varangians in the middle peήod); groups long resident in the
empire who were nevertheless still perceived as ethnically non-Roman Gews, possibly
Egyptians and Isaurians in the early period); and provincial pseudo-ethnicities that existed only
as subcategoήes of mainstream Romans. Based οη the latter alone-Thracians, Macedonians,
Helladics, Paphlagonians,Lydians, Pisidians, Cappadocians, and the like-we should not classify
Romanίa as a "multi-ethnic empire." These were not true ethnicities, but regional sub
classifications of Romans.
One can say about a truly multi-ethnic empire that, say, "a subject of the king ofBabylonia
was always a citizen of a city (or a member of a tήbal group), never a citizen of Babylonia.
There was not even a word to descήbe the whole realm, but only words for the particular
regions (Sumer, Akkad, Sealand); the king was simply "the king of Babylon," as always
identified with the chief city."58 Such a statement would be completely false aboutByzantium.
The realm did have a single name, Romanίa, which was a vernacular, street-level name before
being adopted by the court in the tenth and eleventh centuήes. The name deήved fi-om the
ethnicity and common legal status of the vast majority of its subjects, who were Romans, all of
whom lived under the same system of law. Rights were not differentiated by tήbe or region
among the Romans (except only when Rufinus punished the province ofLykia for two years in
393-5, because of a political vendetta). Romania had a well-developed sense of constituting a
common "fatherland," and its institutions, from the army to the Church, reinforced and
manifested that sense.
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Anthony Kaldellis
Provincial identities were fully imbήcated in the impeήal system and made sense only within
it. They were, in fact, products of the administration. lmposed at first for reasons of con
venience, they acquired a life of their own as their subjects gradually appropriated them, de
veloped them, and endowed them with meaning in order to rationalise their place within an
increasingly homogeneous legal, political, and ethnic order. Between the first century BC and
the eighth AD, they put down roots and became so ingrained that they survived their aban
donment by the central administration as official categoήes in favour of the theme system
duήng the eighth century. When the first huge themes began to be subdivided, the names of
some of the ancient provinces were brought back into use (e.g., Cappadocia and PapWagonia
became themes in the ninth century; however, they had continued to exist under those names
as Church provinces all along: anyone who went to church knew whichJustinianic province he
or she lived in). Given their deep historical roots, provincial identities were always in dialogue
with ancient tropes, yet another way in which antiquity provided the template for the lived
expeήence ofRomans in the Byzantine period. "Classical ethnography provided a resource for
the assigning of characteήstics to such identities."59
Byzantine provincial groups lacked almost all the constitutive elements of a real ethnicity,
such as a separate language, religion, laws, social structure, distinct history, customs, and a sense
that they were different from their neighbours, who in this case were just the Romans of the
adjacent provinces. One did not distinguish between Romans and Cappadocians as one did
between Romans and Bulgaήans or Armenians. The court elite of Constantinople drew many
or most of its members fi-om the provinces, and one might even argue that the function of the
stereotypes that were associated with their local identities was to enable rhetorical politicking.
Those stereotypes were but variations within a now universal Roman norm; that was the only
context in which they made sense. Provincial identities were weak. They never impeded a
provincial fi-om heeding the Siren call of Constantinople, "the common fatherland," when and
if it came. Conversely, we hear of many provincials who bitterly lamented having to leave the
capital and go back into the provinces to serve as bishops or governors. Romanίa's centήpetal
forces were stronger.
Notes
1 Ioannes Skylitzes, "Synopsis," in Ioannis Scylitzae Synopsis historiarum, ed. Ioannes Thum (Berlin: De
Gruyter, 1973), 362.
2 Alexander Kazhdan and Αηη Wharton Epstein, Change in Byzantine Culture in the Eleventh and Twelfth
Century (Berkeley: UCP, 1985), 172-3. See now Anthony Kaldellis, Romanland: Ethnicity and Empire in
Byzantium (Cambήdge, ΜΑ: HUP, 2019).
3 Paul Magdalino, "Constantinople and the έξω χώραι in the Time ofBalsamon," in Byzantium the 12th
Century: Canon Law, State, and Society, ed. Ν. Oikonomides (Athens, 1991), 179-98; "Constantinople
and the Outside World," in Strangers to Themselves: The Byzantine Outsider, ed. D.C. Smythe
(Aldershot: Roudedge, 2000), 149--62.
4 E.g., Liliana Simeonova, "Constantinopolitan Attitudes Toward Aliens and Minoήties, 860s-1020s,"
Etudes Balkaniques (2000): 91-112; cf. Kaldellis, Romanland, 225-7, 258--60.
5 Theory: e.g., Emest Gellner, Nations and Nationalism (Ithaca, ΝΥ: Comell University Press, 1983);
applied to modem history: Denis Vovchenko, Containing Balkan Nationalism: Imperial Russia & Ottoman
Christians, 1856-1914 (Oxford: OUP, 2016), 60; Byzantium: Ioannis Stouraitis, "Roman Identity in
Byzantium: Α Critical Approach," ΒΖ 107 (2014): 175-220; Roman empire: Ronald Mellor, "Graecia
Capta: The Confrontation between Greek and Roman Identity," in Hellenisms: Culture, Identity, and
Ethnicity from Antiquity to Modernity, ed. Κ. Zachaήa (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2008), 79-125, here 79:
"ethnic identity in antiquity was pήmaήly an elite concern."
6 Michael Hendy, Studies in the Byzantine Monetary Economy, c. 300-1450 (Cambήdge: CUP,
1985), 137.
258
7 Photios, "Letters 103, 246, and 247," Photii Patriarchae Constantinopolitani Epistulae et Aruphilochia,
3 vols., eds. Β. Laourdas and Leendert Gerrit Westeήnk (Leipzig: Teubner, 1983-1987); cf. Psellos in
John Duffy, Michael Psellus: Philosophical ruinora, vol. Ι (Leipzig: Teubner, 1992), 191 (op. 51).
8 Psellos, "Funeral Oration for the Patήarch Konstantinos Leichoudes 11," in Michael Psellus: Orationes
Funebres, vol. Ι, ed. Ι. Polemis (De Gruyter, 2014), 100-1; "τs 'Ρ(μαϊκer κακ τα βακerlin 2014) 100-
Letter 88," in Michael Psellos: Epistulae, ed. Stratis Papaioannou (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2019), 187.
9 Sylloge Tacticoruru 13.2, Alphonsi Dain, ed., Sylloge Tacticoruru quae oliru 'Ίnedita Leonis Tactica" dicebatur
(Paήs: Les Belles Lettres, 1938); Leon VI's Taktika contains many revealing statements about the patris,
a term that is not used for the distήct to which each general is assigned (that is his chora or ge): George
Τ. Dennis, ed., The Taktika of Leo VI (Washington, DC 2010); many sources are presented and
analysed in Shay Eshel, The Concept of the Elect Nation in Byzantiuru (Leiden: Bήll, 2018), 99-115, and
there are many more.
10 Psellos, "Chronographia 6.154, 6.190, 7.19," in Michelis Pselli Chronographia, 2 vols., ed. D. Reinsch
(Berlin: De Gruyter, 2014); for more, see Kaldellis, Roruanland, 94-7.
11 Stanislaw Turlej,Justiniana Prirua: An Underestiruated Aspect ofJustinian's Church Policy, trans. Α. Sosenko
(Κrakow: Jagiellonian University Press, 2017); Arabissos: John of Ephesos, 'Έcclesiastical History ΠΙ
5.22," in The Third Part of the Ecclesiastical History ofJohn, Bishop of Ephesus, trans. R. Payne Smith
(Oxford: OUP, 1860); Kastamone: Nikephoros Bryennios, "Mateήals for a History 2.26," in Nicephori
B ryennii Historiaruru libri, quattuor, ed. Paul Gautier (Nicephore Bryennios: Histoire: CFHB, 1975).
12 Agathias, 'Ήistoήes pr. 14-15," in Agathiae Myrinaei Historiaruru Libri Quinque, ed. Rudolf Keydell
(Berlin: De Gruyter, 1967); Konstantinos: Ν. Koutrakou, "Universal Spiήt and Local Consciousness in
the Middle Byzantine Peήod: 'The Case of Constantine the Rhodian, "' in Rhodes 2,400 Years: The
Town of Rhodes froru its Foundation to its Turkish Conquest, 1523, v. 2 (Rhodes, n.d.), 485-92;
Kaminiates, "Capture of Thessalonike 2-3, 7," in Ioannis Caruiniatae de expurgatione Thessalonicae, ed.
G. Bohlig (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1963); Arethas: Ilias Anagnostakis and Anthony Kaldellis, "The
Textual Sources for the Peloponnese, A.D. 582-959: Their Creative Engagement with Ancient
Literature," GRBS 54 (2014): 105-35, here 106-15; Chonai: Michael Choniates, 'Έncomium for the
Metropolitan Niketas of Chonai," in ΜιχαS. Larubros, Metropolitan Niketas of Constantinople, 2 vols., ed.
S. Lambros (Athens, 1879-1880), ν. 1, 24-71; encomia: Helen Saradi, "The Monuments in the Late
Byzantine Ekphraseis of Cities: Searching for Identities," Byzantinoslavica 69 (2011): 179-92.
13 horuopatrioi: Kaminiates, Capture of Thessalonike 2, 43; Rhodes: Theodoros Alopos in Psellos, Letter 235;
Paphlagonia: "Life of the Patήarch Euthymios," in Vita Euthyruii Patriarchae CP, ed. Patήcia Karlin
Hayter (Brussels: Editions de Byzantion, 1970), 16a.
14 Quotation from Menandros Rhetor, The Iruperial Oration 370, ed. and trans. Donald Russell and Nigel
Wilson, Menander Rhetor (Oxford: CP, 1981), 81; hagiography: Thomas Pratsch, Der hagiographische
Topos: Griechische Heiligenviten in ruittelbyzantinischer Zeit (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2005), 56-7.
15 Laga, Eustratii presbyteri vita Eutychii patriarchae Constantinopolitani (Turnhout: Brepols, 1992), lines
1727-32.
16 Cicero, On the Laws (De legibus) 2.5, trans. Niall Rudd, Cicero: The Republic and The Laws (Oxford:
OUP, 1998), 122-3. The theory is self-explanatory, but there is ample commentary, e.g., Gary Farney,
Ethnic Identity and Aristocratic Corupetition in Republican Rorue (Cambήdge: CUP, 2007), 5-10.
17 The main sources are presented by Clifford Ando, Iruperial Ideology and Provincial Loyalty in the Roruan
Erupire (Berkeley: UCP, 2000), 11, 15, 49, 63-9; for Chήstian authors, 346-51; see also Catheήne
Edwards and Greg Woolf, eds., Rorue the Cosruopolis (Cambήdge: CUP, 2003).
18 Ausonius, Ordo urbiuru nobiliuru (The Ranking of Noble Cities), 166-8. For more cases, see Jesper
Majbom Madsen, Eager to be Roruan: Greek Response to Roruan Rule in Pontus and Bithynia (London:
Bristol Classical Press, 2009), 6-7, 80, 122-3; in general, see Anna Heller and Anne-Valeήe Pont, eds.,
Patrie d'origine et patries electives: les citoyennetes ruultiples dans le ruonde grec d'epoque roruaine
(Bordeaux, 2012).
19 Modestinus in Digest 50.1.33; Basilika 10.35.28.4, 38.1.6, eds. H.J. Scheltema et al., Basilicoruru Libri
LX, 8 vols. (Groningen, 1953); Herakleios, Novel 2, in J. Konidaήs, "Die Novellen des Kaisers
Herakleios," Fontes Minores 5 (1982): 33-106, here 74.
20 Sabbas, Life of Meletios of Pelekete 2, ed. Ι. van den Gheyn, "S. Macaήi monasteήi Pelecetes hegumeni
Acta graeca," Analecta Bollandiana 16 (1897): 14(}-63, here 143.
21 Ecloga Basilicoruru 7.5.5, ed. L. Burgmann, Ecloga Basilicoruru (Frankfurt am Main, 1988); for this text,
see also Spyros Troianos, Οι πηγές του βυζαντινού δικαίου, 2nd ed. (Athens and Komotini, 1999), 202;
for the legal point, see Ruth Macήdes, "The Competent Court," in Law and Society in Byzantiuru:
259
Anthony Kaldellis
Ninth-Twelfth Centuries, eds. Α.Ε. Laio and D. Simon (Washington, DC: DO, 1994,) 117-29,
here 121.
22 Ioannes Tzetzes, Chilades 13.358-363, in Ioannis Tzetzae Historiae, ed. Ρ.Α.Μ. Leone (Naples: Libreήa
Scientifica, 1968), 528.
23 Konstantinos Manasses, Hodoiporikon 4.100-129, ed. C. Homa, "Das Hodoipoήkon des Konstantin
Manasses," ΒΖ 13 (1904): 325-47.
24 LSJ s.v. εs.ν. A2c; see Adήan Nicholas Sherwin-White, The Roman Citizenship (Oxford: OUP, 1973),
437-44; Fritz Mitthof, "Zur Neustiftung νοη Identitat unter impeήaler Herrschaft: Die Provinzen des
romischen Reiches als ethnische Entitaten," in Visions of Community in the Post-Roman World: The
West, Byzantium and the Islamic World, 300-1100, eds. W. Pohl et al. (Farnham, UΚ: Roudedge,
2012), 61-72.
25 E.g., Zosimos, New History, 1.13, 1.18, 1.26, 1.48, 2.14, 5.29, 5.37.
26 Clifford Ando, 'Ίmpeήal Identities," in Local Knowledge and Microidentities in the Imperial Greek World,
ed. Τ. Whitmarsh (Cambήdge: CUP, 2010), 17-45.
27 Hadήan and in general: Ando, Imperial Ideology, 80-130, 303-20; Demetήos Kήtsotakis, 'Ήadrian and
the Greek East: Impeήal Policy and Communication" (PhD diss., Ohio State University, 2008);
Justinian as histoήan: Marion Κruse, The Politics of Roman Memory: From the Fall of the Western Empire to
the Age ofJustinian (Philadelphia: UPP, 2019).
28 Peter Thonemann, The Maeander Valley: Α Historical Geography from Antiquity to Byzantium
(Cambήdge: CUP, 2011) 115-6.
29 Eunapios, Lives of the Philosophers, 487-8.
30 For this episode, see Christopher Kelly, Ruling the Later Roman Empire (Cambήdge, ΜΑ: Belknap
Press, 2004), 48-9.
31 Theodoretos, 'Ίnquiήes About the Book ofJudges," PG 80: 507-9; see Fergus Millar, Ethnic Identity in
the Roman Near East, 325-450 (London: Routledge, 2004); "Language, Religion, and Culture,"
Mediterranean Archaeology 11 (1998): 159-76, here 163-4.
32 Robert Hoyland, In God's Path: The Arab Conquests and the Creation of an Islamic Empire (Oxford: OUP
2015), 23, 26 (Ι am not sure about the case of al-Qays); Greg Fisher, Between Empires: Arabs, Romans,
and Sasanians in Late Antiquity (Oxford: OUP, 2011), 142.
33 Troullo: Canon 38, text and trans. George Nedungatt and Michael Featherstone, eds., The Council in
Trullo Revisited (Rome: Pontifico Istituto Oήentale, 1995), 116-7.
34 Gregoήos the Grammaήan, "Life of Gregoήos of Nazianzos 2," in Gregorii Presbyteri Vita Sancti Gregorii
Theologi, ed. Χ. Lequeux (Turnhout: Brepols, 2001); for this text, see Stephanos Efthymiadis, "Two
Gregoήes and Three Genres: Autobiography, Autohagiography and Hagiography," in Gregory of
Nazianzus: Images and Rιiflections, eds. J. Bj0rtnes and Τ. Hagg (Copenhagen: Museum Tusculanum
2005), 239-56.
35 Ioannes Zonaras, "Chronicle 16.13," in Ioannis Zonarae Epitomae historiarum, 3 vols., eds. Μ. Pinder
and Τ. Bίittner-Wobst (Berlin: Imp. Ed. Webeή, 1841-1897).
36 Digenis Akritis G 1.235-236, ed. Ε. Jeffreys (Cambήdge: CUP, 1998).
37 Psellos, Letter 300.
38 Sophronios, "Miracles of Kyros and Ioannes," in Los thaumata de Sofronio: Contribuciόn al estudio de la
'Ίncubatio" cristiana, ed. Ν. Fernandez Marcos (Madήd: Instituto Antonio de Nebήja, 1975), 51.
39 Jordanes, "Romana," in Iordanis Romana et Getica, ed. Theodor Mommsen (Monumenta Germaniae
Historica: Auctores Antiquissimi: Weidmann, 1882), 335; Ioannes Malalas, "Chronicle," in Ioannis
Malalae Chronographia, ed. Ioannis Thurn (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2000), 14.35; Dacia: Kandidos,
'Ήistory," in The Fragmentary Classicising Historians of the Later Roman Empire: Eunapius, Olympiodorus,
Priscus and Malchus, 2 vols., ed. Roger C. Blockley (Liverpool: Francis Cairns, 1981-1983), ν. 2,
464-5. For a survey of the ethnic groups of the early Byzantine empire, see Anthony Kaldellis, The
New Roman Empire: Byzantium from Constantine to Islam, v. 1 (in preparation).
40 See Kaldellis, Romanland, for a systematic study of ethnicity in the middle Byzantine empire.
41 Theodoros Metochites, 'Έssays 17," in Theodore Metochites on Ancient Authors and Philosophy: Semeioseis
gnomikai 1-26 & 71, ed. and trans. Κaήη Hult (Goteborg: Acta Universitatis Gothoburgensis, 2002),
158-65.
42 Trojans: Konstantinos VII, On the Themes 1.4, ed. Α. Pertusi, "Costantino Ρ Ζ Constantine VII and the
Histoήcal Geography ofEmpire," in Imperial Geographies in Byzantine and Ottoman Space, eds. S. Bazzaz
et al. (Washington, DC: Center for Hellenic Studies, 2013), 23-42, here 28, 37.
43 Konstantinos VII, On the Themes 1.1 (Pertusi 61-62); 2.1 (Pertusi 84).
260
44 Quintus Cicero, Commentariolum petitionis (Guide to Elections), 54; cf. Vergil, Aeneid 12.823-28;
rif
Claudian, On the Consulship Stilicho 3.150-54; Paul the Deacon, Historia Romana 1.2.
45 Konstantinos VII, On the Themes 1.6 (Pertusi 71).
46 Thernistios, Oration 16.21 lc-d, trans. (mod.) and analysis by Peter Heather and Doug Moncour,
Politics, Philosophy, and Empire in the Fourth Century: Select Orations rif Themistius (Liverpool: LUP,
2001), 281. For their Keltograikoi phase, see Stephen Mitchell, "The Galatians: Representation and
Reality," in Α Companion to the Hellenistic World, ed. Α. Erskine (Oxford: OUP, 2003), 280-93;
Hellenogalates: Agathias, Histories 3.2.4.
47 Kyήllos of Skythopolis, "Life of Euthyrnios," in Kyrillos von Skythopolis, ed. Ε. Schwartz (Leipzig:
Verlag, 1939), 77.
48 "Life of Theodoros of Sykeon," in Vie de Theodore de Syke8n, ed. A.-J. Festugiere (Brussels: Societe des
Bollandistes, 1970), 64.
49 Cilicians: "Miracles of Artemios," in The Miracles of St. Artemios: Α Collection of Miracle Stories by an
Anonymous Author of Seventh-Century Byzantium, ed. and trans. V. Crisafulli andJ. Nesbitt (Leiden:
Brill, 1997), 26, 149; Lykaonians: Theophanes, "Chronographia a.m. 6296," in Theophanis
Chronographia, 2 vols., ed. Carl de Boor (Hildesheim: G. Olms, 1963), 480: Calabrians: trans. and
discussion in Teresa Shawcross, "Byzantium: Α Bookish World," in Reading in the Byzantine
Empire and Beyond, eds. Eadem and Ida Toth (Cambridge: CUP, 2018), 3-36, here 28. Ιη general,
see Susan Condor, "Social Stereotypes and Social Identity," in Social Identity Theory: Constructive
and Critical Advances, eds. D. Abrams and Μ. Hogg (New York: Springer-Verlag, 1990), 230-49;
in Byzantium: John Haldon, 'Ήumour and the Everyday in Byzantium," in Humour, History and
Politics in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages, ed. G. Halsall (Cambridge: CUP, 2004) 48-71,
here 58-9.
50 Konstantinos VII, On the Themes 1.2 (Pertusi 66); Ioannes the Cappadocian was vilified by Prokopios,
Wars 1.24-25, 2.30, and Ioannes Lydos, On the Magistracies, esp. in book 3, ed. and trans. Anastasius C.
Bandy, Ioannes Lydus: On Powers or The Magistracies rif the Roman State (Philadelphia: Ameήcan
Philosophical Society, 1983).
51 Liudprand, Embassy to Constantinople 10, trans. Paolo Squatriti, The Complete Works of Liudprand rif
Cremona (Washington, DC: Catholic University of Ameήca Press, 2007), 245; cf. Cicero, Post Reditum
in Senatu (Το the Senate After his Return), 14; for ancient Cappadocian stereotypes, see Raymond Van
rif
Dam, Kingdom Snow: Roman Rule and Greek Culture in Cappadocia (Philadelphia: UPP, 2002); Sophie
Metivier, La Cappadoce (IV-Vfsiecle): Une histoire provinciale de l'empire romain dΌrient (Paris:
Publications de la Sorbonne, 2005), 9-17.
52 Psellos, Letter 28.
53 Eustathios of Thessalonike, Capture rif Thessalonike 28, ed. and trans. John Melville Jones (Canberra:
AABS, 1988), 32-3; for ancient stereotypes, see Stephen Mitchell, "The Ionians of Paphlagonia," in
Lacal Knowledge and Microidentities in the Imperial Greek World, ed. Τ. Whitmarsh (Cambήdge: CUP
2010), 86-110.
54 Eunuch: Ioseph Bήngas in Leon the Deacon, History 3.3, trans. Alice-Mary Talbot and Denis Sullivan,
The History of Leo the Deacon: Byzantine Military Expansion in the Tenth Century (Washington, DC: DO,
2005), 90. More abuse in Konstantinos VII, in the Themes 1.7 (Pertusi 72). Ιη general, see Paul
Magdalino, "Paphlagonians in Byzantine High Society," in Η Βυζαντινή Μικρά Ασία (6ος- 12ος αι.),
ed. S. Lambakis (Athens: Institute of Byzantine Research, 1998), 141-50; Charalambos Messis,
"Regions, politique et rhetoήque dans la premiere moitie du l0e siecle: Le cas des Paphlagoniens,"
REB 73 (2015): 99-122; and "Μουσική, χορός και λιπαρή ευωχία: Λογοτεχνικές εικόνες της
Παφλαγονίας κατά τη μέση βυζαντινή περίοδο,s,Δελτίο Κέντρου Μικρασιατικών Σπουδών 20 (2017):
63-88, 78 for their asses.
55 'Άrrogant": Psellos, Chronographia 6.102, 6.110; mixed army: Zonaras, Chronicle 18.20.
56 Sokrates, Ecclesiastical History 4.28, eds. Pierre Maraval and Pierre Peήchon, Socrate de Constantinople:
Histoire ecclesiastique (Livres I-VII) (Paήs: Cerf, 2004-2007). Severos: ed. and trans. Edward W. Brooks,
'Ά Collection of Letters of Severus of Antioch," in Patrologia Orientalis 12.2 (Paήs: Firrnin-Didot et cie
1919), here 317-8.
57 Life of Eudokimos, ed. C. Loparev, "Zhitie sv. Evdokima," Izvestija Russkogo Arheologi[eskogo Instituta
v Konstantinopole 13 (1908): 152-52, here 200-1; Life of Euthmios the Younger 3, ed. and trans.
Richard Greenfield and Alice-Mary Talbot, Holy Men rif Mount Athos (Cambήdge, ΜΑ: HUP,
2016), 8-9. Arethas: ed. L.G. Westerink, Arethae Archiepiscopi Caesariensis Scripta minora, v. 2 (Leipzig,
1972), 38.
261
Anthony Kaldellis
58 Kostas Vlassopoulos, Unthinking the Greek Polis: Ancient Greek History beyond Eurocentrism (Cambridge:
CUP, 2007), 107.
59 Guy Halsall, "Transformations of Romanness: The Northem Gallic Case," in Transformations of
Romanness: Early Medieval Regions and Identities, eds. W. Pohl et al. (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2018,) 41-57,
here 49, about an earlier peήod and with arguments that I do not fully share, but the quoted insight is
correct.
262
15
PARENTS AND CHILDREN,
SERVANTS AND MASTERS:
SLAVES, FREEDMEN, AND ΤΗΕ
FAMILY ΙΝ BYZANTIUM
Nathan Leidholm
With the publication of Slavery and Social Death in 1982, Orlando Patterson shifted the paradigm
1
in studies of global slavery. Though not without its cήtics, the fi-aming of human slavery as
"social death" has continued to be so influential that the study was re-pήnted as recently as
2018, complete with a new preface. Patterson's monograph was perhaps the most impactful
intervention in ancient slave systems since Moses Finley, who was among the first to name
'Όutsider" status as a fundamental aspect of slavery.2
Patterson's most significant contribution was to remove the concept of property ownership
from the most fundamental aspects of global slavery. His approach was largely cultural rather
than economic, as had been (and often still is) the dominant approach to the study of slave
systems.3 Ιη his definition of "social death," Patterson identified three constituent elements:
"natal alienation," "absolute tyranny," and "parasitic degradation." 4 While the latter two
elements held true in Byzantine slavery as well, for a discussion of the relationship between the
family as a social unit and the institution of slavery, natal alienation becomes especially
important.
Patterson, who coined the term, defines natal alienation as "the loss of ties of birth in both
ascending and descending generations." 5 "Alienated fi-om all 'ήghts' or claims of birth, [the
slave] ceased to belong in his own ήght to any legitimate social order." 6 Ιη a Roman and
Byzantine context, natal alienation meant the denial of any recognition of a slave's relationship
with his or her father in particular.7 Slave status was inheήted from one's biological mother,
while the head of the household theoretically took the place of the slave's father.
At the same time, in a cruel twist of irony, it is a common practice for slave-holding societies
to adopt the very language of kinship to descήbe social relations between slaves and their
masters. As Patterson puts it, the practice "plays a crucial role" in "humanizing" the extreme
power relations inherent in slave systems. Ιη many, perhaps most, pre-modern slave societies,
"we find a tendency to assimilate direct domination of one person by another to at least a fictive
kin relation." 8
The Byzantine Empire is largely absent fi-om Patterson's work, in part due to arguments over
the extent to which late Roman or Byzantine society qualify as "slave society," rather than
simply slave-holding.9 Υet whether Byzantium qualifies as a "slave society" or not, slaves
DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-18 263

Nathan Leidholm
continued to be a constituent element of Byzantine society until the Byzantium's collapse in

1453, and slavery in medieval Byzantium fits into both ofPatterson's categoήes.10 That is, natal
alienation was a fundamental condition of Byzantine slave status, and the language of kinship
was frequently used to designate this status. Ιη both cases, the family and kinship were central,
albeit in drastically different ways.
Byzantium maintained a ήch vocabulary for designating children or minors, some more or less
specific to a certain age group or level of matuήty.11 The same is also true for designators of slaves,
with many terms remaining ambiguous regarding the free or unfree status of the individual in
question. 12 Υet some of the most common of these designators were likewise the most common
terms used between children and parents. Pais (παίς), for example, was an already ancient term in
Byzantium denoting a child, but it likewise frequently appears as a designator for a slave. The term
authentes (αύθέντης) was regularly used both for a slave's master as well as a parent. The cu
mulative effect, in wήtten sources at least, is a blurring of the distinction between certain,
hierarchical bonds of kinship and those between master and slave or freedman.
The ubiquity of the language of kinship should, of course, caution against reading too much
into such designations. Religious communities, confraternities, and even fήends made regular
use of kinship designators as forms of address. 13 But they were used for a reason; they mean
ingfully expressed social and/or power relations.
Identity and status were both relational and situational, in Byzantium as in many other
societies. 14 This was partially reflected in the law, as was the partial association of slaves and
freedmen with family relations. Close relatives, including wives and husbands, were generally
baπed from serving as witnesses for or against each other in Byzantine courts, as were slaves
regarding their masters. Αη exception, however, was made for acts of high treason. As the
eleventh-century collection of case summaries known as the Peira preserves it, "before the
might of the emperor, the father of the family is nothing, and even those under a father's
authoήty (ύπεξούσιοι) are together under the authority (συνυπεξούσιοί) of the emperor." 15 Οη
the macro level, as at the level of the household, an individual could simultaneously be the
master and the servant, depending οη one's perspective. Ιη practice, both the signifiers of status
and the functions performed effectively miπored one another, whether among those designated
as a parent and child or slave master and slave.
Studies of post-classical slavery in Europe and the Mediteπanean have increasingly ap
proached the question of continuity and persistence of servile status by separating social from
institutional history.16 By viewing unfreedom as a graded, relative status, scholars have been
able to move beyond simple arguments over the continuity of Roman-style slavery into the
medieval peήod. 17 Such an approach holds great potential for Byzantium as well, even if in
stitutional slavery clearly persisted until the empire's collapse. It can bήng additional claήty to
the lived expeήences of those at the bottom of the social hierarchy and to changes, however
minor, to those expeήences over time.
This chapter adopts just such an approach to explore the complex, overlapping, and
sometimes contradictory roles of slaves, freedmen, and their masters in the context of the
Byzantine household and the family. Ιη particular, it demonstrates some of the ways in which
the role of master mirrored that of parent and how the role of slave or freedmen likewise
resembled that of a (freeborn) child.
The Byzantine Household and Concepts of Family

The Byzantines used a vaήety of terms and concepts that might be translated as "family," with
varying degrees of precision and conceptual overlap.18 Terms like syggeneia, genσs, and oikoswere
264
Slaves, Freedmen, and the Family
among the most common designators of kinship groups. Syggeneia and the collective syggeneis
(lit."relatives") could denote both the concept offamily and of kinship simultaneously.19 Genσs,
often translated as"clan" or"lineage," carried with it strong notions of both biological kinship
and of an extended, multi-generational kin group, as these translations suggest.20
Oikσs, a term that could refer to both the physical household and those who lived in or
around it, was probably the most common Byzantine concept of"the family."21 Ιη addition to
blood relatives or other kin, many Byzantine households contained any number of slaves,
servants, and other hangers-on collectively termed anthrσpσi (iiνθρωποι, lit. "people"). The
precise relationship between each anthrσpσs and the head of the household could vary, as could
their legal status, and the sources are not always clear in making a distinction. Legally free
anthrσpσi generally ended their service to the household with the death of the household's head
(their authentes), but freedmen and slaves remained both legally and socially bound to the family
22
over multiple generations.
Ιη such a complex amalgamation of individuals all bound to a single household, it should
come as ηο surpήse that there were "degrees of 'belonging' to the family."23 This is precisely
indicated by surviving notaήal contracts for adoption fi-om the last few centuries of Byzantium.
Generally, these fell into two separate categoήes. One made the adopted child an "heir to
property and successor to the family line (genσs), and 'legitimate' (gnesiσs) offspήng."24 Ιη the
other, parents agreed to provide the basic necessities to their adopted child, including a dowry,
but the child did not enjoy the same ήghts and protections as natural born, legitimate children.
Former slaves might be placed in a category similar to the latter, albeit with some key differ
ences. For example, one reason we are so well informed about the inheήtance bequeathed to
former slaves is that slaves or freedmen were not owed an inheήtance without the express desire
of their (former) master in a written testament, which placed them in a category alongside many
adopted children in Byzantium.25
The Byzantine household, like Byzantine society more broadly, was hierarchical in nature,
with a legally recognised head of household. The older Roman pater familias had lost much of
his legal protections and ήghts by the peήod ofJustinian, but the head of household maintained
his position at the top of a fairly rigid hierarchy nonetheless.26 This structure was expressed
clearly and succinctly by John Chrysostom in the late fourth century. "But I say that even the
household of the poor man is like a city. For in it there are also rulers. For instance, the man
rules his wife, the wife rules the slaves, the slaves rule their own wives, and again the men and
women rule the children."27
By far the most ubiquitous form of slave labour throughout the Byzantine peήod was the
household slave. Performing any number of domestic services and chores, such individuals
formed an integral component of families even of more modest wealth and had access to some
of the most intimate moments within their master's household. Such slaves not only regularly
had families of their own, but they were also integrated within their masters' households to such
an extent that it becomes difficult to discuss the Byzantine family at all without including both
slaves and fi-eedmen. It is worth remembeήng that σikσgenes (οίκογενής) and related terms,
which commonly designate "relatives" or "family" in Modern Greek, appeared first in a
Byzantine context to designate slaves "born in the house(hold)."28
Byzantine sources are notoήously vague and imprecise in their use of terminology to in
dicate the slave or free status of individual actors.29 Α relatively wide range of terms appear in
the texts to indicate servants or slaves, many of which give ηο clear indicator of legal status one
way or another. This has predictably led to confusion and fi-ustration among modern scholars.
Υet this reflects the worldview of the Byzantine authors themselves. Ιη general, they seem to
265
Nathan Leidholm
have been more concerned about relative social relations than absolute, legal status.30 It was
simply more important to demonstrate the relative power structures among the individuals
being descήbed than it was to claήfy legal status in absolute terms. Beaήng this in mind, the
occasional functional and/or conceptual overlap between an authentes-parent and authentes
master becomes both more understandable and, potentially, more meaningful.
Masters and Parents

The term authentes was a rather versatile designator in medieval Byzantium. Above all, it was a
recognition of one's inferior, dependent status, and it may thus be translated by terms such as
"lord" or "master" with some degree of accuracy. Hence, the term might even refer to a
woman's husband, as a reference to the social and legal power the man had over her, in addition
31
to "parent" or "(slave-) master." Within the Byzantine household, both children and slaves or
other servants would have looked to the head of the household as their authentes. The simi
laήties, however, did not end with this form of address. Both in legal obligations and in normal
practice, there were certain ways in which the roles of parent and (former) master effectively
overlapped in Byzantium.
Though by ηο means a parent's only obligations, the Byzantines generally attached a par
ticular importance to the arrangement of baptism, marήage, and inheήtance for their children.
These three obligations represented two of the most important ήtes of passage for each new
generation (baptism and marήage), while inheήtance obviously secured the passage of property
ownership and wealth across generational lines, hopefully ensuήng the family's continuation
after the death of one's parents. By the tenth or eleventh century, if not earlier, slave masters
were regularly fulfilling the same three obligations for their slaves and/or fi-eedmen, albeit with
some significant differences.
Ιη the predominantly Christian Byzantine Empire, baptism represented the official entrance
of an individual into the community of believers. By the middle Byzantine peήod, this regularly
occuπed when a child was still an infant, making it a primary responsibility for new parents.32
Beyond the spiήtual aspect of the ήte, baptism also served as a common means of creating
family networks in the form of baptismal sponsorship. Parents and sponsors became spiήtual
brothers and sisters. Ιη the event of a parent's death, sponsors would also act "as substitute
parents for their orphaned godchildren, providing upbήnging, education, dowry, and even
enteήng into business transactions with them." 33 Υet if baptismal sponsorship was a typical
method of creating family networks for free families, this was probably not the case for the
deracinated slave. One might assume that the master or a member of his biological family
performed this role, reinforcing the connection between the slave and his/her master's family,
while keeping them isolated within broader society. Although we are not well-informed about
the act of baptism itself for slaves in Byzantium, there is a relative abundance of evidence that it
regularly occuπed.
Baptism was actually one of three pήmary means of manumitting a slave in the late Roman
tradition.34 Υet there is reason to believe that many slaves were assumed to be Chήstian by the
eleventh century, if not earlier. Certainly, this was true for the slaves and fi-eedmen ofEustathios
Boilas. His last will and testament, dated to 1059, is an especially ήch source of information for
the histoήan of Byzantine slavery because of the special attention he pays to his cuπent and
former slaves in the document.35
Although Boilas sheds litde light οη the moment or process of baptism itself, his slaves and
freedmen were most certainly assumed to be Chήstian. "ΑΠ male children who are born of my
freed family servants and slaves, shall be brought up in the church of the Theotocos in the
266
learning of the holy letters and shall be made cleήcs, being provided for by the church. "36 The
church mentioned here was Boilas's own foundation οη his estates in eastern Anatolia and in
many ways served as a spiήtual centre for those in his family circle. Boilas, in fact, was so
insistent upon the orthodox Chήstian belief among both his family and the rest of his household
that he included a clause in his will that, should any of them slip fi-om this belief, they would
face seήous consequences. For his offspήng, this would mean disinheήtance, while his former
slaves would ήsk falling back under the yoke of slavery.37
The topic of marήage or quasi-marήage among slaves is one area in which modern scholars
have shown considerable interest, in part because of the consistent interest late Roman and
38
Byzantine legislation itself displayed in the subject. This largely stemmed from inherent
contradictions between older Roman concepts of marήage and the theology of Chήstian
marήage that had developed within the Church.
The theology of Chήstian marήage differed significantly fi-om Roman legal pήnciples,
presenting a contradiction in the case of slaves that had to be resolved.39 Although they lacked
legal personalities, slaves were understood, of course, to be human beings with a soul. Were
these slaves to convert or be born into Chήstianity, they were, in theory, eligible for the union
of flesh and soul which formed the basis of Chήstian marήage. For most of the Byzantine
peήod, however, slaves were denied access to this form of marήage (called gamos by the
Byzantines). Yet this would eventually change, in particular under Emperor Leo VI
(r. 886-912) and Emperor Alexios Ι Komnenos (r. 1081-1118).
Α major milestone was reached when Emperor Leo VI made the blessing of a pήest
mandatory for all legal marήages.40 Slave marήages are not specifically mentioned in this law,
but it paved the way for the future recognition of such marήages because of the way it explicitly
brought together the Chήstian theology of marήage and the Roman legal tradition. Almost two
centuήes later, in 1095, Emperor Alexios Ι Komnenos issued an edict explicitly allowing for a
pήest's blessing in a marήage between two slaves.41 Such a union was still not considered a full
marήage in the same, legal sense as for fi-ee persons. However, in doing so, he brought a new
dignity and importance to marήage among Byzantine slaves. Ιη fact, the wording of Alexios's
edict suggests that some owners had been granting their slaves Christian marήages before this
point, probably after the legislation of Leo VI, and the novella actually prohibits the practice of
masters marrying their slaves in non-Chήstian ceremonies. The extent to which this edict was
enforced throughout the entire empire continues to be debated among historians, but even if it
was limited in practice, it represents a significant step in the convergence of free and unfi-ee
•
marnage.42
Surviving evidence makes clear that slave owners routinely played a role somewhat similar to
that of parents in the arranging of marήages for their slaves or freedmen, occasionally presiding
over the wedding itself, at least until the late eleventh century. Eustathios Boilas notes how he
had arranged marήages for several of his current and former slaves, some of them after they had
been freed, others while they were still slaves. 43 This also was the case, for example, for the
slave-woman Theodora, who plays a central role in the Life rif St. Basil the Younger. Ιη this text,
wήtten in the second half of the tenth century, Theodora's union with another of her master's
slaves in a quasi-marήage is descήbed in some detail. 44 Her master had both arranged the union
and presided over the ceremony marking its beginning. Unlike marήages between fi-eeborn
couples, there is ηο indication that the consent of either party was a pήmary concern. 45
The long-standing legal and theological conundrum is neatly summaήsed in the Life rif Basil
the Younger. Α significant portion of the text is devoted to Theodora's journey to the afterlife,
which is imagined, in typical Byzantine fashion, as a seήes of tollbooths through which the
deceased must pass. The former slave reaches the Tollhouse of Adultery, where she is
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Nathan Leidholm
confronted by demons who interrogate her regarding her sins. She responds by explaining, "For
before Ι [Theodora] came to serve our saindy and holy father Basil Ι had a fellow slave as my
mate by my master's order (είχον σύντροφον σύνευνον έκ προστάξεως αύθεντικfjς μου), and
while living with him Ι had relations also with some other young men who were in my master's
house, being seduced by them ... "
The demons at this tollhouse attempt to take her away, for she has ostensibly admitted to
adultery, but her guides resist them, saying '"Since she was a slave in that world below, <her
union> was not blessed by a pήest. She did not legally marry her mate, by being deemed
worthy of a pήest's blessing, nor did he take her after receiving the marήage crown in a church
of God, so that the charges might properly be for adultery; rather one must call these actions
fornication, since he received this woman from her master's hand by only a simple command.'
The demons howled loudly and retorted, saying, Ίs not a slave's second god his master who has
acquired him through purchase? And she was joined to the man by the decision of her master
and lord, so one must call their transgressions the offspήng of adultery and not fornication." 46
The demons and angels argue for hours over the issue. Eventually, the angels win, but the
demons tel1 Theodora to beware the tollhouse of fornication, which they are sure will get her.
She eventually manages to pass this tollhouse too, but only thanks to the intercession of her
spiήtual father, St. Basil himself 47
Even before the novellae of Leo VI and Alexios Ι, there was some movement toward cur
tailing the practice of presiding over the marήage of one's own slaves in the home. The
Nomocanon 14 titulorum, a foundational collection of mostly canon law compiled in the sixth
century and updated in the ninth, prohibited slaves who had been joined in marήage outside of
the church from receiving communion.48 This also reinforces the impression that a significant
number of Byzantine slaves were Chήstian and presumably baptised as well.
As a parent or head of household, neared the end of his/her life, they faced one more, vital
duty: aπanging for their children's inheritance. It was through this act that parents could look to
the distήbution of the family property and, ideally, ensure their family's survival into the next
generation. Equitable, partible inheήtance among all children was the general rule in
Byzantium, and around half of the family property was reserved for one's children according to
impeήal law. There was a considerable degree of variability in practice, but parents typically
needed to provide a reason for reducing or eliminating entirely the inheήtance of legitimate
children.49 For freeborn daughters, much of this inheήtance was often in the form of a dowry,
effectively linking the arrangement of marήage and inheήtance into a single, important act.50
Slaves and freedmen did not enjoy such legal protections, but Byzantine law and surviving
wills demonstrate that former slaves, too, were regularly granted an inheήtance, at least when
their masters were neaήng their death and/or had formally manumitted them. Slaves were
obviously in a unique position as well because, while they might inheήt property fi-om their
former masters alongside their manumission or afterwards, they constituted a valuable part of
that very property while still enslaved and could form a part of the inheήtance of one of their
master's relatives.
Eustathios Boilas explicidy aπanged an inheήtance for nearly all of his former slaves. As he
puts it, 'Ί took care of my household servants, and also those born in my household, a few years
ago, and Ι freed them all and provided for them an inheήtance."51 As seems to have been
common, Boilas bequeathed generally modest amounts of moveable wealth to most of his
former slaves, who received their inheήtance at or near the time of their manumission. For his
freedman Kyήakos, with whom he seems to have had an especially close relationship, Boilas
provided a number of provisions. 'Ί gave him as wife a free woman, the sister of the monk and
presbyter Clement, and Ι fulfilled over him the rites of the maπiage. And duήng my severe
268
illness I willed to him fifteen [nσmismata] and whatever articles of personal and bed clothing he
might have acquired. And duήng the sixth year of the indiction ten more. And now at the end
of my life, since I dedicated his son Constantine to the Theotocos, 1 give him ten." 52 Boilas's
aπangements for his slaves and fi-eedmen are quite similar to his treatment of his own children.
Perhaps the greatest difference was simply in the amount of money and property his daughters
received compared to his former slaves.
Ιη the late eleventh-century wills ofSymbatios Pakouήanos and his wife, Kale/Maήa, 53 it is
made clear that Kale had earlier freed many (all?) of her slaves, but they are nevertheless in
cluded in her will and receive substantial inheήtances.54 Ιη both testaments, former slaves in
heήt mostly moveable wealth. Still, Kale does indicate that a year after her death, they would
receive additional wheat and wine fi-om her lands, suggesting that they were expected to remain
residents near Pakourianos estates.55 Kale and Symbatios had ηο children, so these freed slaves'
service to the family was coming to an end with her death (her husband had predeceased her).
Despite this, however, her freedmen were still granted an inheritance. It may have been hoped
that they would continue to pray for her soul, a vital aspect of kinship in medieval Byzantium,
even if they were not in the service of a direct descendant.56
Α parent's obligations were not limited to baptism, marήage, and inheήtance. There were,
of course, many other duties and expectations of mothers and fathers. Byzantine law and
custom recognised two additional obligations in particular: upbήnging and education.57 Α
parent's duty to keep their children clothed, housed, and fed perhaps goes without saying, but it
was nevertheless included as a general provision in Byzantine law and typically appears side-by
side with a child's education. Just such an admonition is cited and emphasised by Demetήos
Chomatenos, a bishop and judge in the mid-thirteenth century, in one of his decisions included
in the collection known as Pσnemata Diaphσra. Ιη a case involving an inheritance dispute,
Chomatenos's decision includes the assertion that "nature itself prototypically ordains that fa
thers care for their children in every way and take thought for their profit, as is fitting.
Following this, the law requires that they not only take care of their nurtuήng (άνατροφfjς), but
also their education (παιδεύσεως) and their upbringing (άναγωγfjς)." 58
The type of education named in Chomatenos's decision (paideusis) is best understood as a
part of one's general upbringing, not more specialised or higher education, which was always
restricted to a relatively small circle in Byzantium. Υet we know that some slaves were given
some form of more specialised education thanks to sources like the Βσσk rif the Eparch and other,
anecdotal evidence for the continued use of slaves in the workforce.59 Their employment in
various capacities in their masters' business is assumed in several texts. As mentioned above,
Eustathios Boilas specified his wishes that the sons of his slaves and fi-eedmen be educated in the
church he had founded οη his properties. He also mentions a former slave working as a
copyist.60 Indirectly, at least, Boilas had aπanged for the education of many of his slaves and
freedmen. Judging from surviving wills like those of Boilas and the Pakouήanoi, one might
expect to find quite a few (former) slaves in monastic foundations, many of whom undoubtedly
learned to read and wήte, if not more.
Slaves and Children

Parents' obligations to their children were not imagined as entirely altruistic in Byzantine
thinking. Ιη return for their parents' efforts, children were, above all, expected to show obe
dience, honour, and "gratitude." The typical Byzantine formulation of this idea is found in the
Eklσga, a law-code promulgated in the eighth century. If a father dies before one's mother,
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'Ήer children cannot confront her or demand paternal property from her, but must, οη the
contrary, show her every honour and obedience (ύπακοήν) as their mother in accordance with
God's commandment; of course, the mother must, as is fitting for parents, educate her children,
give them in marήage and provide them with a marήage portion, as she considers coπect."61
Patήarch Nikolaos Mystikos, writing to the Ernir of Crete in the tenth century, likewise
offers a foπnulation of a child's obligations, stressing in particular their duties after the death of
their father.62 The patήarch argues that ήsing up against one's father after he has died is even
worse than rebelling against him while he still lives, "inasmuch as honor (τιμή) and pious
memory (ή συν εύλαβεί� μνήμη) and respect of their fathers' precepts (ή των διατεταγμένων
συντήρησις) are the more incumbent οη children when those fathers have passed into the life to
come."63 This list of honour, memory, and respect for a parent's wishes could, in fact, be read
as a kind of checklist of a good child's obligations toward their parent in the Byzantine mind.
Though seerningly vague and ill-defined, the so-called ingratitude (άχαριστία) of children
toward their parents was a punishable offense in Byzantine law. Justinian's Novel 115, which
was later incorporated into the tenth-century Basilika, "lists fifteen reasons to disinheήt children
because of their ingratitude toward their parents."64 This continued to be used in practice as late
as the thirteenth century, as attested by Demetήos Chomatenos.65
Children remained hypexσusiσi (ύπεξούσιοι), literally "under the authoήty" of their father or
a guardian, until the age of 25 in Byzantine law, "unless they had been declared independent
(αύτεξούσιοι) by an act of emancipation."66 This would change slightly in the early-tenth
century, when Novel 25 of Leo VI stated that if a son marήes and starts his own household
away fi-om his parents, he should be considered autexσusiσs ("under his own authoήty") even
without a foπnal act.67 The obedience, indeed subservience, owed by slaves to their masters
goes without saying and was absolute, as was their status as legal dependents. Except in certain,
extreme cases, in which they rnight serve as witnesses, slaves lacked a legal personality in foπnal
teπns.
It is after their manurnission and the transition from slave to freedman that the similaήties
between childhood and unfree social status becomes especially clear and, arguably, more in
teresting. The granting of freedom did not erase the freedman's obligations of obedience or
connection to their foπner master's family. Far fi-om it. Despite the change in their legal status,
freedmen continued to be beholden to their foπner master's family for subsequent generations
in a relationship that rnight be thought of as quasi-familial.68 Thus, we find that Eustathios
Boilas was able to assign one of his foπner slaves to serve his daughter even after the slave had
been given her freedom. 'Άηd Selegnoun, whom Ι had freed before and marήed to my slave
Abousphaήus, Ι have given in service to my daughter Maήa from the present twelfth year of the
indiction to the first (year of the next) indiction."69
This phenomenon, like much else in Byzantine slavery, had its oήgins in late Roman law.
Both children and freedmen owed their parents or foπner master's obedience (obsequium in
Roman law), which remained intentionally ill-defined.70 Disobedience, couched in teπns of
"ungratefulness," constituted legal grounds for the disinheritance of children or more seήous
consequences for freedmen, including the loss of their freedom. Despite the very different
consequences, "ungrateful" children and disobedient fi-eedmen were discussed using exactly the
same vocabulary in Byzantium. Α tenth-century novel of Leo VI reinforces this fact and in
dicates that, despite their eugenes (i.e., "fi-ee-born") status, even children of freedmen continued
to be dependent upon their foπner master's family.71
For example, Eustathios Boilas singles out his foπner slave Zoe. He had granted her
freedom, but, as in nearly every case, with certain stipulations. This included the provision that
she would be returned to slavery if she were to break a sacred vow. She apparently did this
270
when she found a husband without Boilas' approval. The will, however, makes it clear that
Boilas did not wish her to lose her freedom, despite this apparent betrayal. 'Ένeη if in the
codicil which grants her freedom it is stated that she shall become a slave again if she should
break a vow to God, and although she gave herself away to a man without my approval, Ι wish
that she remain free and be completely fi-ee with her children."72 He comes across as more of a
caring, but disappointed father, than a harsh taskmaster. We might also note that his dis
appointment stemmed from the fact that she had marήed withoutBoilas's approval, a situation
that might regularly aήse between biological fathers and daughters.
ΥetBoilas needed to include the separate provision in his will in order to protect Zoe from
the law. For, asBoilas also states at the end of his will, any of his former slaves who broke a
sacred vow or, significantly, renounced orthodox Chήstianity were subject to re-enslavement.
The formula given in this part of the text illustrates the stark reality that continued to differ
entiate the conditions of free children and slaves. For an heir who abandoned orthodox
Chήstianity would lose his or her inheήtance, but a former slave who did the same would lose
their fi-eedom altogether. It serves as a reminder that, ηο matter how much the two might
appear similar, an enslaved person's fate was fundamentally different from those who were
born free.
Reinforcing the blending of status between slaves and children is the language used byBoilas
to refer to his own "lords." We learn from his will thatBoilas had spent much of his life in the
service of a more powerful lord, Basil Apokapes.73 Throughout the document, Boilas con
sistently refers to both Basil and his sons as his "authentai" (or, in the case of Basil's sons,
"authentσpσulσi"). Much as fi-eedmen continued to be beholden to their masters' families across
generational boundaήes, so too wasBoilas in his role as the "man" of the Apokapes family.
Although it may seem counter-intuitive, the continued, multi-generational dependence of
former slaves to their master's family meant that manumitting a slave could actually serve to
strengthen and safeguard the link between the slave and the owner's family rather than
weakening it. As Alice Rio observes, "Whereas the transfer of unfree dependants severed the
link between them and their ex-owner, the transfer of freedmen did not; οη the contrary, it
enhanced it, and turned it into a permanent symbolic bond, unaffected by changes in legal
ownership."74 This could be especially important for one of the most vital roles ofByzantine
family members, the preservation of one's memory after death.75 As Rio herself argues, "This
turned freedmen into a kind of dependant uniquely well placed to function as a living link
between their manumittors and the religious institution to which they were granting their
lands, and as a conduit for the preservation of their memory."76
The fact thatBoilas attached nearly all of his fi-eedmen to the religious foundations οη his
properties might suggest that he had just such an arrangement in mind. He was effectively
ensuήng that the churches and monasteήes where his family's memory was to be preserved
would be fully manned for the foreseeable future. The connection is made explicit in the
document itself, as when Boilas stipulates the freedom and inheήtance of three nσmismata for
"my slave Mouseses and his father Gaήpius, for the sake of the salvation and memory of my
most beloved son Romanus."77Boilas had turned the grant offi-eedom for two of his slaves into
a vehicle for the preservation of his biological son's memory. The fulfιlment of that role,
however, placed his former slaves in a position similar to that of biological or other kin, for
whom the obligation of remembrance and prayer for the souls of their departed kin was of the
utmost importance.
Α fi-ee-bornByzantine child would have expected to go through a number of other ήtes of
passage marking his/her advancement through childhood and transition into adulthood. Some
of these might have been available to slaves or fi-eedmen, while many of them would not.
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Nathan Leidholm
Surviving evidence is not always forthcoming with details about such ήtes, although further
research may shed some additional light οη the matter. For example, pήmaήly liturgical
manuscripts attest a rite of passage for girls, which involved the ήtualistic binding of the hair,
marking an important step toward adulthood and, ideally, eventual marήage.78 Outside of
liturgical manuscripts, Byzantine sources reveal relatively little about this ceremony. We can
only guess as to the ήte's availability to unfree members of a household.
Both testaments and saints' lives give the impression of one further, if less formal way in
which the bonds of servitude might look like those of kinship: genuine affection. There is ηο
doubt that bonds of real affection existed at times between masters and slaves, many of whom
would have been of similar age and may have even grown up together. It was not uncommon,
especially among the wealthier classes, for children to be raised largely by unfree servants in the
household. At the same time, these children would have grown up alongside children of the
household slaves, forming bonds of fi-iendship or even something more by adulthood.
As we have already seen, Eustathios Boilas seems to have had an especially close relationship
with his former slave, Kyήakos. He is the first of the former slaves mentioned by name in
Boilas's will. 'Ίη the first place [Ι mention] Cyήacus who grew up with me and who has toiled
greatly οη my behalf throughout my life."79 Kyήakos was likely the son of slaves owned by
Eustathios's parents, making the two roughly the same age. Based upon this passage and the rest
of the will, Eustathios clearly had great affection for the man, and we might imagine that the
two had a relationship more akin to fήendship than stereotypes of master and slave. At the same
time, by procuήng Kyήakos a wife and an inheήtance, in addition to his legal fi-eedom,
Eustathios acts rather as a father figure, exhibiting the unequal social and legal status of the two
men, regardless of their personal feelings or age.
Wήtten sources are, of course, largely silent οη the slave's or freedman's perspective of these
relationships, and we can only guess at the psychological realities created by such a complex
mixture of companionship and "social death." From those perspectives we can begin to reach,
however, there is evidence that a lifetime of close, intimate contact was apt to create genuine
feelings of affection between master and slave/fi-eedman that could potentially look like the
bond between parent and child or between fuends. Ιη a similar vein, it would have been fairly
common for Byzantines to have grown up with slaves who were closer in age to their parents
than to themselves. Unfree wet-nurses were fairly commonplace, which, in some ways, placed
the nurse in the role of suπogate mother for a child who was technically her social supeήor.80
Theodora, the saintly slave-woman fi-om the Life rif Basil the Yσunger, served as wet-nurse for her
master, in whose house she continued to live as an elderly woman. When she passes, the vita
descήbes the acute sadness expeήenced by those around her and recounts her kindness, "re
ceiving and comforting us as if we were her own children (ώς ίδια ταύτης τέκνα ήμας
άποδεχομένη καi έπιθάλπουσα)."81 When Theodora greets Gregory, the story's narrator, in his
82
vision of the afterlife, she addresses him as "my beloved child (τέκνον μου ήγαπημένον)."
Recent studies of the medieval family, in all its forms, have increasingly emphasised bonds of
affection, in contrast to images of medieval maπiages and family life as cold, calculated, and
inherently political.83 Unfree members of the Byzantine household certainly have a place in this
discussion as well.
Unfree Families
Ιη the preface to the 2018 edition of Slavery and Sσcial Death, Patterson re-emphasises the fact
that, for slaves, "all ties were precarious." Despite certain protections under the law, slave
families were fundamentally at the mercy of their masters and faced the constant threat of
272
separation. As Patterson puts it, "the greatest tragedy of trust under slavery is that it also
shattered relations among the slaves themselves. " 84
Still, we have ample evidence that Byzantine slaves regularly managed to marry (in some
form), have children, and perhaps maintain some semblance of family life. Consideήng re
stήctions οη slave coupling across two different owners, and the fact that only a relatively small
percentage of households would have been able to afford more than one or two slaves, there is
the question of just how widespread slave families actually were at any given moment. Α
growing number of studies, however, continue to show that the Byzantine slave population,
like its earlier Roman counterpart "was sustained, above all, by natural reproduction. " 85 There
was thus an economic motive to encourage the coupling and birth of children among slaves. As
Harper argues, "probably the greatest prop of the slave family was the master's disciplinary and
economic interests in allowing family life. Pήvate life was used as an incentive to elicit obe
dience and labour from slaves; masters viewed it as a low-cost or even profitable means of
· · ,,
garnenng co-operatιon. 86
Unfi-ee parents had to navigate a complex seήes of social roles and relationships within the
household, to say nothing of the legal and social barήers faced outside its limited confines. Their
children would have looked to both their biological parents and their masters as authentai. The
same might technically be true for the freeborn children of someone like Eustathios Boilas, but
the power relations faced by unfree children and their parents would have been significantly
starker. Ιη the past, it has been common to argue that gradual change in both law and custom
made Roman society ever fήendlier to the formation and maintenance of families among the
slave population. This has sometimes been attήbuted to the influence of Christianity, with an
edict of Constantine I that encouraged keeping slave families together frequently cited.87
Recent opinions by those like Kyle Harper have pushed back against this interpretation.88
Despite the occasional voice of (mild) dissent, late Roman or Byzantine Chήstianity never
produced an abolitionist movement.89
There is some evidence to suggest increased legal protections for slave families into the
medieval peήod, though it remains debatable how effective, meaningful, or widespread such
changes actually were. For example, in one of his novels, Leo VI stipulated that the child of a slave
born in the home of a third party must return to the slave's owner (i.e., the child must remain
with its mother). The eleventh-century collection of case law known as the Peira shows similar
legal pήncipals in action. Title 38.3 outlines a complaint made by fi-eedmen against their former
master in an attempt to force him to fi-ee members of their family still enslaved.90 The judge,
Eustathios Rhomaios, rejected their request, but the decision makes it clear that when members
of a slave family were split among two or more owners, the owner of the majoήty could claim the
rest. This example offers clear evidence that by the mid-eleventh century, the law continued to
favor keeping slave families together, even at the expense of one of their masters.
Despite some similaήties in expeήence and situational identities, however, Byzantine law
continued to resist marήages between partners of unequal status.91 Leo VI allowed for the free
partner to work in the household (for wages) of the slave's owner, which would have allowed
for such marήages to take place even if the fi-ee partner could not afford to purchase the
freedom of the slave.92 The same emperor also made it illegal for a fi-ee person to sell him-/
herself into slavery with the sole exception of cases of marήage between a free and an unfi-ee
person, in which case the fi-ee person could voluntaήly reduce himself to slavery.93 Ιη some
sense, the formation of a family was considered the only legitimate reason for a free person to
voluntaήly become a slave.
Inheήtance practices likewise differed considerably for unfree families. As slaves, ownership
of property was technically impossible, which ruled out any form of inheήtance practices
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Nathan Leidholm
within the unfree family pήor to manumission.94 Υet, in another of his novellae, Emperor Leo
VI allowed slaves whose freedom was expected in the future to write up their own wills.95
Novel 37 allowed slaves emancipated by the will of their owner to draw up a will of their own.
The edict encouraged the wήting up of such wills even before the act of manumission if either
party knew that the emancipation would eventually take place. The same novel states plainly
that a freedman's inheήtance will return to his former master's family upon his death, should he
die intestate, once again reinforcing the bond between fi-eedmen and their former masters.96
Interactions and roles within unfi-ee families are not readily visible in surviving sources, but a
few details can occasionally be gleaned. Ιη the Life of Basil the Younger, the slave-woman
Theodora is judged for her occasional harsh treatment of her children during her journey
through the tollhouses of the afterlife. Among her apparent sins were " ...even the harm Ι had
caused through a savage glance, and what Ι inflicted οη my children for their edification, by
97
stήking them in wrath, or how when overcome by anger Ι became exasperated with them;"
The passage suggests an active role in both the education (or upbήnging) and the disciplining of
her children within their master's household.
As in many slave societies, the mother-child bond was probably especially strong within
slave families. As Patterson has noted, "the mother-child bond ...under slavery was not only
stronger than the father-child relation but may often have been the only parental bond."98
Indeed, making slaves "fatherless" was a key component of the kind of natal alienation practiced
in Roman andByzantine slavery. The Roman law stipulating that children inheήted the legal
status of their mother presumably continued throughout theByzantine peήod, though because
of the relative silence of the sources concerning sexual relations between even masters and their
slaves, it is not dwelt upon in surviving sources.
Unfree families also had to contend with forms of disruption that were not concerns for the
average, free household. Ιη particular, the threat of a family member being sold off and the
possibility of sexual advances by the owner or a third party would have had an incredibly
disruptive effect and threaten the stability of such families. The extent to which slave status
continued to grant owners sexual access to their slaves is difficult to tel1. From the early
Byzantine peήod, it was actively discouraged by the church. John Chrysostom argued forcefully
against it.99 This would later be reinforced by imperial law. The eighth-century Ekloga in
troduced harsh penalties for those who had sexual relations with slaves owned by another
person (presumably without their consent).100 Not much later, a novel of Empress Eirene
attempted to prohibit all marήage or conjugal relations with female slaves.101 Nevertheless, it is
likely that such sexual access continued to some extent throughoutByzantine history, even if it
remains mostly invisible in the sources.
This is strongly suggested by the story told by the slave-woman Theodora in the Life ι.if Basil
the Younger, who recounts having been "seduced" by several young men in her master's house,
despite the fact that she had a husband (of sorts) and children and is otherwise depicted as a
devout, upright personality in the text.102 Though it is not explicit in the text itself, one might
imagine that such sexual access had been granted by Theodora's master himself, perhaps even
ordered.
There are also hints of this kind of disruption due to the sexual access to slaves in texts such
as the Life of Mary the Younger, a tenth- or eleventh-century hagiography recounting the life and
sanctity of Mary ofByzie.103 Ιη this text, Mary is accused by some of her husband's relatives of
having had sex with one of her slaves. Her husband, who is abusive, beats a female slave who
confirms that Mary had not had sex with the other slave. Mary is eventually killed by her
husband's violence. Mary's vengeance was later visited οη her husband and his relatives after her
death in the form of their own, divinely sanctioned demise.104 Later in the eleventh century,
274
Kekaumenos likewise appeared wary of granting his slaves too much access to his wife or
daughters, cautioning, 'Ίt is a great thing to have some slave or fi-eeman who is trustworthy.
Even if you have one and trust him do not let him even be acquainted with your daughter, as
far as possible, and you will have secuήty." 105
These examples obviously highlight male suspicion of their slaves and the women in their
households, which is not the same as a master's sexual access to his or her own slaves. This
specific form of sexual relations was always a thing to be feared in Roman slavery (as in many
other slave societies), both because of conceptions of honour and because Roman and
Byzantine children inheήted the status of their birth mothers. 106 Still, they are also indicative of
the kinds of sexual vulnerability inherent in any slave-owning society, especially when slaves
form a part of their master's household. Even the possibility of encounters like these would have
had an incredibly destabilizing effect οη unfi-ee families.
Conclusion
It should come as ηο surpήse that some degree of overlap existed between familial roles and the
relationship between (former) master and slave. As Alice Rio has pointed out, kinship and
slavery actually share a number of similaήties, as anthropologists and histoήans increasingly
recognise power relationships, membership based οη seemingly "simple, objective cήteria,"
social groupings given legal definitions and regulation with the purpose of defining in- and out
groups. The use of kinship terminology to signify relationships within a slave system is likewise
a fairly common phenomenon and was by ηο means unique toByzantium. Enslaved people in
Byzantium, as elsewhere, lacked both legal and social personalities, and their condition re
mained fundamentally different fi-om that of free-born children. They were excluded from
formal family and social structures. As Rio argues, exclusion may not be the most important
aspect of slavery in all cases, but it is "that which all forms of slavery have in common." 107 Yet,
ifByzantine slaves suffered the kind of social death identified by Patterson, they might also be
thought of as trapped in a state of perpetual childhood in certain, functional respects. 108 Natal
alienation and deracination certainly existed, but so too did some aspects of kinship and family
life amongByzantine household slaves. Ιη some ways, slaves and fi-eedmen were both inside and
outside the household, simultaneously.
The roles of masters and parents miπored each other in several ways, as did that of slaves or
freedmen and children. Masters, like parents, often aπanged for the baptism, marήage, in
heήtance, and even upbringing or education of their slaves or freedmen. These, in turn, were
expected to show the same kind of obedience and gratitude as freeborn children, in addition to
continuing the memoήalization of deceased members of their (former) masters' families. Slave
families themselves probably replicated many of the structures of free families, with the addi
tional complication of a master set over and above them and, above all, the threat of seήous
disruption.
Those similarities of expeήence descήbed here are partially explicable through the common
language of power inherent in slave and kinships systems, as identified by Patterson and Rio.
They were also at least partially due to the particularly Byzantine system of power and au
thoήty, especially theByzantines's sense of identity and relative social hierarchy.But this does
not tel1 the entire story, either. Such similaήties of expeήence can also be ascήbed to conceptual
overlap in the functional realities of these roles in a Byzantine context. These similaήties be
tween masters and slaves and parents and children may even have increased over time, as
suggested by the gradual changes in the law regarding slave marήage and, perhaps, by the
increasing humanizing of slaves in narrative sources. 109 Still, such arguments should be made
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Nathan Leidholm
with caution, as recent scholarship has called into question older narratives asserting Chήstian
influence οη the supposedly diminishing role of slaves in late Roman/ early Byzantine society. It
is worth recalling that, according to one scholar's calculations, roughly one-third of the cases
involving sales in the eleventh-century Peira concern the sale of slaves, while 86% of those
110
under the heading "Slaves" concern buying or selling. Νο matter how much certain social
roles may have resembled one another or the degree to which unfi-ee families were supported
by the law, it cannot erase the fundamental reality of humans as chattel in the Byzantine slave
system or the insurmountable social barriers and inequalities created by that system.
Notes
1 Orlando Patterson, Slavery and Social Death: Α Comparative Study with α New Preface (Cambήdge, ΜΑ:
HUP, 2018), originally published in 1982.
2 See, for example, Moses Finley, "Slavery," in The International Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences, Vol.
14, ed. D.L. Sills (New York: Macmillan, 1968), 307-13. His views were expressed most completely
in Ancient Slavery and Modern Ideology (Νew Υork: Viking, 1980, new edition published by
PUP, 1998).
3 The past two decades especially have seen this change, as a growing number of scholars have adopted
non-economic approaches. See, for example, Υouval Rotman, Byzantine Slavery and the Mediterranean
World, trans.Jane Maήe Todd (Cambήdge, ΜΑ: HUP, 2009), oήginally published as Les esclaves et
l'esclavage: De la Mediterranee antique ά la Mediterranee medievale, Vie-Xle siecles (Paήs: Les Belles Lettres,
2004); Kyle Harper, Slavery in the Late Roman World (Cambήdge: CUP, 2011); Alice Rio, Slavery
after Rome, 500-1100 (Oxford: OUP, 2017).
4 Patterson, Social Death, 1-8, passim.
5 Patterson, Social Death, 7. See also Lisa Guenther, "Fecundity and Natal Alienation: Rethinking
Κinship with Levinas and Orlando Patterson," Levinas Studies 7 (2012): 1-19.
6 Patterson, Social Death, 5.
7 Patterson, Social Death, 139-41; William W. Buckland, The Roman Law of Slavery: The Condition of
the Slave in Private Law from Augustus to Justinian (Cambήdge: CUP, 1970, digital version 2010, first
edition 1908), 397-8.
9 Ιη general, see Rotman, Byzantine Slavery, 5-24 and Harper, Slavery ί, 3-32 and 497-509. For slaves
in later Byzantium, see Helga Kopstein, Zur Sklaverei im ausgehenden Byzanz: philologisch-historische
Untersuchung (Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 1966).
10 For a recent assessment and discussion of Finley's arguments, see Noel Lenski and Catheήne Μ.
Cameron, eds., What Is α Slave Society? The Practice of Slavery in Global Perspective (Cambήdge: CUP,
2018). See alsoJohn Bodel, 'Άncient Slavery and Modern Ideologies: Orlando Patterson and Μ. Ι.
Finley among the Dons," Theory and Society 48 (2019): 823-33.
11 Ιη general, see Aήetta Papaconstantinou and Alice-Mary Talbot, eds., Becoming Byzantine: Children
and Childhood in Byzantium (Washington, DC: DO, 2009); Αηη Moffatt, "The Byzantine Child,"
Social Research 53 (1986): 705-23; Despoina Aήantzi, ed., Coming of Age in Byzantium: Adolescence and
Society (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2018); Cecily Hennessy, 'Ύoung People in Byzantium," in Α Companion
to Byzantium, ed. LizJames (Chichester, UK: Wiley-Blackwell, 2010), 81-92.
12 This fact alone attests to the importance of relative, rather than absolute social status among
Byzantine authors. For more οη this, see Rotman, Byzantine Slavery, 82-95, 183-8; Kopstein, Zur
Sklaverei im ausgehenden Byzanz; Gίinter Pήnzing 'Όη Slaves and Slavery," in The Byzantine World,
ed. Ρ. Stephenson (London: Roudedge, 2010), 92-102.
13 See, for example, Michael Grίinbart, Formen der Anrede in byzantinischen Briefe vom 6. bis zum 12.
Jahrhundert (Vienna: VOAW, 2005).
14 Descήptions and analyses can be found in a number of studies. For a good place to start, see
Alexander Kazhdan and Giles Constable, People and Power in Byzantium: An Introduction to Modern
Byzantine Studies (Washington, DC: DO, 1982); Leonora Neville, Authority in Byzantine Provincial
Society, 950-1100 (Cambridge: CUP, 2009); Catia Galataήou, "Structural Oppositions in the
Grottaferrata Digenes Akrites," BMGS 11 (1987): 29-68. See also the theoretical discussion inJohn
Haldon and Hugh Kennedy, "Regional Identities and Military Power: Byzantium and Islam
276
ca.600-750," in Visions of Community in the Post-Roman World: The West, Byzantium and the Islamic
World, 300-1100, eds. W. Pohl, C. Gantner and R. Payne (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2012), 317-55.
15 The Peira has been edited and published in Ioannes Zepos and Panagiotes Zepos, eds., Ius
Graecoromanum, Vol. 4 (Athens: Georgion Phexis and Son, 1931), 9-260. See Peira 30.5: 'Ότι έπί της
καθοσιώσεως καί άνήρ κατά γυναικός καί γυνή κατά άνδρός καί δουλος κατά δεσπότου καί υίός
κατά πατρός μαρτυρεί. ινα γαρ μή έξfi τη γυναικί καί τοίς λοιποίς του άνδρός ύπεξουσίοις [λέγειν],
δτι δεδιότες τήν έξουσίαν του της φαμιλίας πατρός έσιώπων, έδίδαξεν αύτούς ό νόμος, δτι πρός τό
του βασιλέως κράτος ούδέν έστιν ό της φαμιλίας πατήρ, άλλα καί ύπεξούσιοι τούτου
συνυπεξούσιοί είσιν αύτφ. δουλος δέ τήν του συνδούλου κατά της δεσποτείας έπιβουλήν, καί
ύπεξούσιος τήν του ύπεξουσίου έπαινετώς καταμηνύει· έν γαρ τφ σιγησαι τήν πραξιν
συγκατακρίνεται.
16 See the discussion in Rio, Slavery after Rome, 1-16. See alsoJdnosM. Bak, "Serfs and Serfdom: Words
and Things," Review (Fernand Braudel Center) 4 (1980): 3-18; Chήs Wickham, Framing the Early
Middle Ages (Oxford: OUP, 2005); Joseph C. Miller, The Problem of Slavery as History: Α Global
Approach (New Haven and London: YUP, 2012); M.L. Bush, ed., Seιfdom and Slavery: Studies in Legal
Bondage (London: Roudedge, 2013).
17 Alice Rio has descήbed viewing unfree status "an act of labelling rather than as a static object." See
Rio, Slavery after Rome, 11. For Byzantium in particular, see also Alexander Kazhdan, "The Concept
of Freedom (eleutheria) and Slavery (douleia) in Byzantium," in La notion de liberte au Moyen Age, Islam,
Byzance, Occident, eds. G. Makdisi, D. Sourdel andJ. Sourdel-Thomine (Paήs: Societe d'Edition Les
Belles Lettres, 1985), 219-22.
18 For more οη this, see Leslie Brubaker, "Preface," in Approaches to the Byzantine Family, eds. Leslie
Brubaker and Shaun Tougher (Farnham and Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2013), xix-xxiv; Nathan
Leidholm, Elite Byzantine Kinship, ca.950-1204: Blood, Reputation, and the Genos (Leeds: Arc
Humanities Press, 2019), esp. 13-15; Ruth Macήdes, "Families and Κinship," in The Oxford
Handbook of Byzantine Studies, ed. Elizabeth Jeffreys (Oxford: OUP, 2008), 652--60.
19 Alexander Kazhdan, ed., Oxford Dictionary of Byzantium (Oxford: OUP, 1991), 776.
20 Leidholm, Elite Byzantine Kinship.
21 Paul Magdalino, "The Byzantine Aήstocratic Oikos," in The Byzantine Aristocracy, ΙΧ to ΧΙΙΙ
Centuries, ed. Μ. Angold (Oxford: BAR, 1984), 92-111; Koichi Inoue, 'Ά Provincial Aήstocratic
Όikos' in Eleventh-Century Byzantium," GRBS 30 (1989): 545-69.
22 Rotman, Byzantine Slavery, 126-7.
23 Macrides, "Families and Κinship," 657.
24 Macrides, "Families and Κinship," 657; See also "Basilika 28.4.11," in Basilicorum Libri LX, Vol. 4,
eds. H.J. Scheltema, D. Holwerda and Ν. Van der Wa (Groningen: Wolters, 1962), 1326.
25 Ruth Macήdes, "Κinship by Arrangement: The Case of Adoption," DOP 44 (1990): 109-18; Joelle
Beaucamp and Gilbert Dagron, eds., La transmission de la patrimoine. Byzance et l'aire mediteraneene
(Paήs: De Boccard, 1998); Angeliki Laiou, "Family Structure and the Transmission of Property," in
rif
Α Social History Byzantium, ed. J. Haldon (Malden, ΜΑ: Wiley-Blackwell, 2009), 51-75.
26 This change in Roman custom and law is traced by, inter alia, Kate Cooper, The Fall of the Roman
Household (Cambήdge: CUP, 2007); Geoffrey S. Nathan, The Family in Late Antiquity: The Rise rif
Christianity and the EndurancerifTradition (London: Roudedge, 2000).
27 John Chrysostom, In Ephes. 22.2, quoted and trans. Harper, Slavery, 33.
28 See, for example, the entry in H.G. Liddell and Ρ. Scott, eds., Α Greek-English Lexicon, 9th edn. with
Revised Supplement (Oxford: CP, 1996), 1203. See also Alexander Kazhdan, 'Ή Βυζαντινή
οικογένεια και το προβλήματά της," Βυζαντινά 14 (1988): 223-36.
29 See, inter alia, Rotman, Byzantine Slavery, 82-95; Υouval Rotman, "Formes de non-liberte dans la
campagne byzantine aux Vlle-Xle siecles," Melanges de l'EFR, Moyen Age 112 (2000): 499-510;
Kopstein, Zur Sklaverei; Pήnzing, 'Όη Slaves."
30 Neville, Byzantine Provincial Society, 73-85. See also above, nt. 13.
31 Ιη Kale/Maria Basilikaina's testament of 1098, for example, she repeatedly refers to her husband as
"my authentes" (e.g., 178.16, 178.37). See Actes d'Iviron Vol. ΙΙ: du milieu du Xle siέcle ά 1204, eds.
Jacques Lefort, Nicolas Oikonomides and Denise Papachryssanthou (Paήs: Ρ. Lethielleux, 1990), ηο.
47, 170-83.
32 Ruth Macήdes, "The Byzantine Godfather," BMGS 11 (1987): 139-62.
33 Macrides, "Byzantine Godfather," 139-62. See also Macήdes, "Families and Κinship," 657-8.
277
Nathan Leidholm
35 The testament was edited and published by Paul Lemerle, "Le testament d'Eustathios Boilas (avril
1059)," in Cinq etudes sur le Xie siecle byzantin, ed. Ρ. Lemerle (Paήs: CNRS, 1977), 15-63. Αη
English translation is provided by Speros Vryonis,Jr. "The Will of a Provincial Magnate, Eustathius
Boilas (1059)," DOP 11 (1957), 263-77.
36 Vryonis, "Provincial Magnate," 271, trans. Vryonis'.
37 Vryonis, "Provincial Magnate," 272.
38 See especially the discussions in Harper, Slavery, 281-325; Rotman, Byzantine Slavery, 141-4;Joelle
Beaucamp, Le statut de lafemme ά Byzance (4e-7e siecles), 2 vols. (Paήs: De Boccard, 1990 and 1992);
Judith Evans Grubbs, Law and Family in Late Antiquity: The Emperor Constantine's Marriage Legislation
(Oxford: OUP, 2000).
39 The relationship between slavery and legal conceptions of marήage in Byzantium stands in sharp
contrast to the empire's neighbors to south and east. Recent work by Kecia Ali has shown that
slavery not only fit comfortably in early Islamic law, it even served as the very model upon which
early Muslim juήsts' conceptions of marήage were built. See Kecia Ali, Marriage and Slavery in Early
Islam (Cambridge, ΜΑ: HUP, 2010).
40 Nov. Leo. 89, in Pierre Noailles and Alphonse Dain, eds., Les Novelles de Uon le Sage (Paήs: Les
Belles Lettres, 1944).
41 Nov. Post. Just., coll. 4, nov. 35, in Zepos, Ius Graecoromanum, Vol. 1.
42 See especially Helga Kopstein, "Zur Novelle des Alexios Komnenos zum Sklavenstatus (1095)," in
Actes du XVe Congres international d'etudes byzantines, Vol. 4 (Athens: Association internationale des
etudes byzantines, 1976), 60-172.
43 He mentions, for example, "the sisters Sophia and Maήtza and their husbands and children I freed
and provided for οη the two previous and aforementioned occasions." Vryonis, "Provincial
Magnate," 271.
44 Denis F. Sullivan, Alice-Mary Talbot and Stamatina McGrath, eds. and trans., The Life of Saint Basil
the Younger: Critical Edition and Annotated Translation of the Moscow Version, Dumbarton Oaks Studies
XLV (Washington, DC: DO, 2014).
45 Οη the issue of maήtal consent, as well as οη marriage in general in Byzantium, see Angeliki Laiou,
Mariage, amour et parente ά Byzance aux XIe-XIIIe s (Paήs: De Boccard, 1992).
46 Life of Basil the Younger 2.33, eds. and trans. Sullivan, Talbot and McGrath (Cambήdge, ΜΑ: HUP
2014), 236-39.
47 Life of Basil the Younger 2.37-38.
48 Canon 199, in]uris ecclesiastici Graecorum historia et monumenta, ed. Jean-Baptist Pitra, Vol. 2 (Rome:
Typis collegii urbani, 1868), 346; Rotman, Byzantine Slavery, 142.
49 Laiou, "Family Structure," 61.
50 See, for example, Laiou, Marriage, esp. 137-71.
52 Vryonis, "Provincial Magnate," 271, trans. Vyronis'.
53 Symbatios' wife, Kale Basilikaina, took the name of Maήa when she entered a monastery near the
end of her life.
54 Both wills date to the very end of the eleventh century. For Symbatios' testament, see Actes d'Iviron,
Vol. ΙΙ: du milieu du Xle siecle ά 1204, eds. Jacques Lefort, Nicolas Oikonornides and Denise
Papachryssanthou (Paήs: Ρ. Lethielleux, 1990), ηο. 44, 150--6. For Kale/Maήa's testament, ηο. 47,
170-83.
56 For more οη this, see below.
57 Οη childhood education in Byzantium, see Moffatt, "Byzantine Child;" Nikos Kalogeras, "The
Role of Parents and Κiη in the Education of Byzantine Children," in Hoping for Continuity:
Childhood, Education and Death in Antiquity and the Middle Ages, eds. Κ. Mustakallio,J. Hanska, H.-L.
Sainio and V. Vuolanto (Rome: Institutum Romanum Finlandiae 33, 2005), 133-43.
58 Demetrios Chomatenos, Ponema 99.3, lines 50-5, ed. G. Pήnzing, Πονήματα διάφορα, Corpus
Fontium Histoήae Byzantinae. Seήes Berolinensis 38 (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2002), 5-462.
Chomatenos cites, inter alia, Basilika 35.8.38, to support his argument: Ή μετριότης δέ ήμων,
μετά γε των συνεδριαζόντων αύτfi ίερωτά των άρχιερέων τα τού πράγματος διασκεψαμένη, πρός
ταύτα τοις θείοις νόμοις άκολούθως τα παρόντα ψηφίζεται, ώς πρωτοτύπως μέν ή φύσις αύτή τούς
πατέρας πείθει των τέκνων έκ παντός τρόπου κήδεσθαι καί των τούτοις λυσιτελούντων φροντίζειν
επιεικώς, ταύτn δ' έπομένως καί τα τού νόμου θεσπίσματα τούτους καταναγκάζουσι μή μόνον της
278
άνατροφης, ά'λλά καί της παιδεύσεως καί άναγωγης αύτων έπιμέλεσθαι, δτι καί τα ίερά τούτο
βούλονται λόγια, έν παιδείι;ι καί νουθεσίι;ι τούς γεννήτορας άνάγειν τούς έαυτων παίδας
έγκελευόμενα. See also Gίinter Pήnzing, 'Όbservations οη the Legal Status of Children and the
Stages of Childhood in Byzantium," in Becoming Byzantine: Children and Childhood in Byzantium, eds.
Α. Papaconstantinou and Α. Talbot (Washington, DC: DO, 2009), 30-1.
59 The so-called Book cif the Eparch is a tenth-century commercial manual for the Eparch (Prefect) of
Constantinople, an administrative position roughly equivalent to a governor. It includes detailed
provisions and descήptions of several industήes present in the Byzantine capital. See Das Eparchenbuch
Leons des Weisen, ed. Johannes Koder, CFHB 33 (Vienna: VOAW, 1991). For an analysis of its
contents related to slaves, see Rotman, Byzantine Slavery, 95-102.
60 Vryonis, "Provincial Magnate," 271-2.
61 Ekloga 2.5.l, lines 9-14, ed. Ludwig Burgmann, Ecloga. Das Gesetzbuch Leons ΠΙ. und Konstantinos' V.
(Frankfurt: Lowenflau-Gesellschaft, 1983): μή δυναμένων των αύτης τέκνων άντικαθίστασθαι αύτfj
η έπιζητείν παρ' αύτης πατρφαν ύπόστασιν, τούναντίον μεν ούν καί πiiσαν τιμήν καί ύπακοήν κατά
την του Θεού έντολήν ώς μητρί προσαγόντων αύτfj, προδήλως όφειλούσης αύτης, καθώς πρέπει
γονευσι, τα τέκνα έκπαιδεύειν τε καί γαμοστολείν καί προίκα έπιδιδόναι, καθώς αν βουληθft. See
also Pήnzing, "Legal Status of Children," 31, trans. Prinzing.
62 Nikolaos Mystikos, Letter 1, ed. and trans. R.J.H. Jenkins and L.G. Westeήnk, Nicholas Ι, Patriarch cif
Constantinople, Letters [Corpus Fontium Histoήae Byzantinae 6: DO, 1973), 2-520. The letter was
actually directed at the issue of revolt against the emperor, which is framed by Mystikos as a son who
ήses up against his own father. Still, the sentiment held true for literal sons as much as it did for
symbolic "sons" of the emperor.
63 Nikolaos Mystikos, Letter 1, lines 10(}-8, ed. and trans. Jenkins and Westerink, 8-9: 'Ή έάν τις κατά
του ίδίου πατρός έν τφ παρόντι βίφ είς έπανάστασιν καταστfj, του πατραλοίας είναι την γραφήν
ούκ έκφεύξεται, της δέ παρούσης άπελθόντος ζωης έάν τα έκείνφ άνατρέψn δόξαντα, ούκ εσται
πατραλοίας ούδέ της αύτης ένοχος καταδίκης; Τί γαρ τούτο έκείνου πρός έπανάστασιν διαφέρει;
Μαλλον δέ ε'ί τις άκριβως βούλεται συνιδείν, αίίτη μείζων του ζωντι έπαναστηναι τφ πατρί
έπανάστασις, δσφ καί μα'λλον πλέον οφείλεται τοίς πρός την μέ'λλουσαν μεταβεβηκόσι ζωήν ή
παρά των τέκνων τιμή καί ή συν εύλαβείι;ι μνήμη καί ή των διατεταγμένων συντήρησις.
64 Pήnzing, "Legal Status of Children," 30-1. See also Basilika 35.8.41. From its composition in the
early tenth century, the Basilika formed the basis of Byzantine impeήal law. It was largely a translation
and slight re-working of the Justinianic corpus.
65 Demetήos Chomatenos, Ponema 99. The case's rather lengthy tide begins with "Concerning the
causes of ingratitude of children toward their parents" (Περί των αίτιων της άχαριστίας των τέκνων
πρός τούς γονείς).
66 Pήnzing, "Legal Status of Children," 18.
67 Νον. Leo. 25.
68 This was true from at least the days of Justinian. See Rotman, Byzantine Slavery, 121-2.
70 Harper, Slavery, 467.
71 Νον. Leo. 25; Rotman, Byzantine Slavery, 121-2.
73 Vryonis, "Provincial Magnate," 262, 276.
74 Rio, Slavery cifter Rome, 98.
75 For more οη this, see Michael Borgolte, "Freigelassene im Dienst der Memoria: Kulttradition und
Kultwandel zwischen Antike unnd Mittelalter," Fruhmittelalterliche Studien 17 (1983): 234-50; Ingήd
Heidήch, "Freilassungen als Sicherung des Totengedachtnisses," in Nomen etfraternitas: Festschrifίfur
Dieter Geuenich zum 65. Geburtstag, eds. U. Ludwig and Τ. Schilp (Berlin and New Υork: De
Gruyter, 2008), 221-33; John Philip Thomas, Private Religious Foundations in the Byzantine Empire
(Washington, DC: DO, 1988).
77 Vryonis, "Provincial Magnate," 271.
78 See Gabriel Radle, "The Veiling of Women in Byzantium: Liturgy, Hair, and Identity in a Medieval
Rite of Passage," Speculum 94 (2019): 1070-115.
79 Vryonis, "Provincial Magnate," 270, trans. Vryonis.
80 Byzantium did not have a concept akin to Muslim "milk kinship," but the use of wet-nurses was still
recognized as forming a special bond. See Chryssi Bourbou and SandraJ. Garvie-Lok, "Breastfeeding
279
Nathan Leidholm
and Weaning Patterns in Byzantine Tirnes: Evidence frorn Hurnan Rernains and Written Sources,"
in Becoming Byzantine: Children and Childhood in Byzantium, eds. Arietta Papaconstantinou and Alice
Mary Talbot (Washington, DC: DO, 2009), 65-84. For an overview of Muslirn "milk kinship," see
Peter Parkes, "Milk Κinship in Islam. Substance, Structure, History," Social Anthropology 13 (2005):
307-29.
81 Life of Basil the Younger 2.1-2, 190-3.
82 Life of Basil the Younger 2.6, 198-201.
83 This tendency has become common enough that some scholars now refer to the "affective turn" in
the history of the family and kinship. For an overview and general discussion, see Holly Α. Crocker,
"Medieval Affects Now," Exemplaria 29 (2017): 82-98. For a good example of recent scholarship
engaging with this trend, see Elisabeth Van Houts, Married Life in the Middle Ages, 900-1300
(Oxford: OUP, 2019).
84 Patterson, ix-x.
85 Harper, Slavery, 67-78, esp. 68. For a broader discussion of the issue, see Walter Scheidel, "The
rif
Roman Slave Supply," in The Cambridge World History Slavery, eds. Κ. Bradley and Ρ. Cartledge
(Cambridge: CUP, 2011), 287-310; Ulήke Ross, Thinking Tools: Agricultural Slavery between Evidence
and Models (London: Institute of Classical Studies, 2007); Dale Β. Martin, "Slave Families and Slaves
in Families," in Early Christian Families in Context: An Interdisciplinary Dialogue, eds. D. Balch and C.
Osiek (Grand Rapids: Wm. Β. Eerdmans Publishing, 2003), 207-30.
86 Harper, Slavery, 269.
87 For a discussion of the edict (CT 2.25.Ι), which was issued in 325CE, see especially Noel Lenski,
"Constantine and Slavery: Libertas and the Fusion of Roman and Chήstian Values," in Atti
dell'Accademia Romanistica Costantiniana XVIII, ed. S. Giglio (Perugia, 2012), 235-60.
88 Harper, Slavery, 209-14, 261-73.
89 Eustathios, Bishop of Thessaloniki in the twelfth century, argued that slavery was not a natural state
for mankind. Still, this hardly qualifies as anti-slavery rhetoήc. See Letter 27 in Foteini Kolovou, Die
Briefe des Eustathios von Thessalonike: Einleitung, Regesten, Text, Indizes (Mίinchen-Leipzig: Saur,
2006), 79-80.
90 Peira 38.3.
91 Kopstein, "Sklaven in der Peira," in Fontes Minores ΙΧ, ed. Ludwig Burgrnann (Frankfurt am Main:
Lowenklau-Gesellschaft, 1993), 21-2. As Kopstein ήghtly argues, Peira 28.1 demonstrates that this
was still the case in the eleventh century and was considered porneia (illicit sexual contact).
92 Νον. Leo. 100 and 101.
93 Rotman, Byzantine Slavery, 25.
94 The classic Roman peculium, however, continued to be practiced. Νovel 38 of Leo VI also allowed
for slaves of the impeήal household to dispose of their belongings as they saw fit and encouraged
pήvate masters to follow the impeήal example. Νον. Leo. 38.
95 Νον. Leo. 37.
96 Νον. Leo. 37; Rotman, Byzantine Slavery, 125.
97 rif
Life Basil the Younger 2.16, 212-5 (Tollhouse of Wrath and Anger): καί δσα χάριν παιδεύσεως τοίς
τέκνοις μου έπήγαγον μετά θυμού ταύτα τυπτήσασα, η καί όρΎ11 ληφθείσα έπικράνθην
πρός αύτά ...
99 Harper, Slavery, 281-2; Chrysostom (Propt. Forn. 1.3-4) argued to his congregation that marήage,
for a Chήstian, was pήmaήly about avoiding sexual sin. The just and holy man ought not to have sex
even with prostitutes or slaves. Chrysostom (Propt. Forn. 1.4) contends that 'Ένeη a man comrnits
adultery, if he has a wife but fulfills his lascivious desires with a slave-girl or any public whore." (trans.
Harper).
100 Ekloga 17.21-22; 'Άppendix Eclogae," in Fontes Minores 3, eds. Dieter Simon and Spyros Troianos
(Frankfurt: Κlostermann, 1979), 4.4.
101 Ludwig Burgmann, ed., Die Novellen der Kaiserin Eirene, Fontes Minores 4 (Frankfurt: Κlostermann,
1981), 26.
102 Life of Basil the Younger 2.33, 236-9.
103 See Angeliki Laiou, "Life of St. Mary the Υounger," in Holy Women of Byzantium, ed. Α. Talbot
(Washington, DC: DO, 1996), 239-90.
104 Λngel Narro, "Domestic Violence against Women as a Reason to Sanctification in Byzantine
Hagiography," Studia Philologica Valentina 20 (2018): 124-8; Angeliki Laiou, "Life of St. Mary the
280
Younger," in Holy Women of Byzantium: Ten Saints' Lives in English Translation, ed. Α. Talbot
(Washington, DC: DO, 1996), 239-90. Note that Mary 's sanctity is largely a result of the violence of
her husband, so this should certainly not be considered the ηοπη.
105 Kekaumenos, Concilia et Naπationes (SAWS edition, 2013), 3.131 (trans. Charlotte Roueche): μέγα
έστίν τό εχειν τινά δουλον η έλεύθερον πιστόν. καί εί εχεις αύτόν καί ένεπίστευσας αύτφ, την δέ
θυγατέρα σου είς δυνατόν μηδέ γνωρίζη, καί εξεις τό άσφαλές.
106 Patterson, Social Death, 139-41; Harper, Slavery, 326-48; Kate Cooper, "Closely-Watched
Households," Past and Present 197 (2007): 3-33.
108 Compare this to the statements made by Jonathan Edmondson, "Slavery and the Roman Family," in
Bradley and Cartledge, 357-9.
110 Kopstein, "Sklaven in der Peira," 17.
281
16
MIDDLE ΒΥΖΑΝΤΙΝΕ
HISTORIANS AND ΤΗΕ
DICHOTOMY OF PEASANT
IDENTITY
Cahit Mete Oguz
Psellos defines what constitutes the most important attήbute of self-respect as, "supeήor
1
standing and rank in society." This high regard for social rank in the elite Byzantine mindset
automatically relegated the vast majoήty of the population, mainly composed of the peasantry,
to a comparatively inferior standing. Furthermore, the vaήous words which can be directly
2
translated into English as "peasant" were often utilised in a somewhat derogatory manner in
many naπative sources. Because higher class Byzantines were unable or simply unwilling to
enter the mindset of the peasantry, many elements associated with peasant lifestyle and culture
were either inaccessible or fi-owned upon by the elite. Α case in point is Eustathios of
Thessaloniki, who describes how he slept οη a simple layer of straw/hay (χόρτος) in a tiny,
inhospitable (iiμικτος) house, in a village during his escape from his bishopήc.3 Similarly,
Κinnamos, a twelfth-century historian, also describes village houses as wretched, miserable,
small huts (λυπρός δωμάτιον).4 Such feelings of alienation from the peasant experience may be
found in narrative texts discussing almost every aspect of peasant lifestyle from diet to clothing
and popular culture.Thus, both Niketas Choniates and Psellos fi-own upon the consumption of
vegetables by the poor masses, with the former descήbing those who do as pale (υπωχρος) and
corpse-like (νεκρώδης).5 This is ironic, consideήng that for many peasant households a small
garden plot was invaluable, as the Geoponika even underlines its importance for health reasons.6
Likewise, Anna Komnene expresses hoπor at the consumption of millet instead of wheat,
which she regards as only suitable for animal fodder.7 Similarly, duήng his long and arduous
escape journey through the countryside, Eustathios ofThessaloniki descήbes how he had to go
for eight days without any "proper bread" (iiρτον άκραιφνη), but instead had to make do with
village bran bread (πίτυρον), baked in ashes. 8 Compounding this was Eustathios's devastation
that he had not had any wine duήng this time either, despite at one point being given a liquid
purported to be wine, but "which was extremely foul." Such well-known examples highlight
the unwillingness of elite authors to engage with the realities of a humbler life. Elsewhere in the
texts, we find more direct expressions of contempt for peasants. Such is the case of Anna, who
uses the word peasant (χωρίτης) as a derogatory term marking the person who does not know
how to act in a cultured way. Skylitzes, οη his part, uses the expression "like field-dweller"
(άγροικικως) to descήbe somebody speaking out of place. Οη an even harsher note, Leo the
282 DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-19

Middle Byzantine Historians
Timeline Covered by Each Author
- -
TheoCont. Book 1-4
John Skylilzes
Genesios
-
Symeon Logothete·
Vιla Basilii
Pseudo-Symeon
--
TheoConl. Book 6
Leo the Deacon
Michael Psetlos
Michael Alta1eiates
Skylίlzes Conl.
Nikephoros Bryennios
Anna Komnene
-
John Zonaras
John Κinnamos
Niketas Choniates
Eus!alhios of Thessaloniki
800 820 640 860 880 900 920 940 960 980 1000 1020 1040 1060 1080 1100 1120 1140 1160 1180 1200 1220
Figure 16.1 Timeline Covered by Each Byzantine Author. Diagram by Cahit Oguz
Deacon descήbes poor John Tzimiskes as being "forced" to live in the countryside as a pun
ishment handed out by then-emperor Nikephoros ΙΙ.9 Tzimiskes's objection to this, voiced by
Leo in his text, truly illustrates the demeaning nature of rural life in the eyes of the elite; "yσu
dismissed me to waste my time in the cσuntryside with peasants, like some alien withσut any rights. "10
Peasant culture and religion were not safe from such targeting either, as TheodoreBalsamon, a
twelfth-century canonist, descήbes peasant festivities in his suπounding countryside as being
excessively lewd, very anti-Christian, and harbouήng many pagan and superstitious elements.
Even language itself enforced such a dichotomy; the word iiγριος, meaning "wild/untamed"
being derived from the word αγρός (farm/field), just as (αστείος), meaning "civility" stemmed
from the word iiστυ (town) (Fig. 16.1).
Such contempt notwithstanding, careful analysis reveals a more complex theme across
Byzantine narrative histoήes. While the peasantry was represented by an intricate blend of
marginalization and belittling based οη cultural and lifestyle differences, sources also display
recognition of their collective importance. This chapter argues that the understanding of the
peasantry evident within Byzantine literary mateήal was pήmaήly based οη a pragmatic un
derstanding of its political significance. Being the largest segment of the pσliteia, the peasantry
was idealised based οη political and economic traits while simultaneously being alienated based
οη certain sociocultural barήers. This duality often led to seemingly contradictory stances οη
issues such as social mobility, public opinion, and taxation which are analysed below. The
corpus of middleByzantine histoήcal sources included in this study include both chronicles and
11
histoήes which cover a vaήety of diverging and converging timelines as outlined in Fig. 16.1.
Social Mobility
One of the ways in which the importance of the peasantry is manifested in these sources is
through a discussion οη the agήcultural function of the land-tilling, tax-producing villagers, and
the obvious recognition of their vitality for the existence of the elite authors themselves. This
apparent duality in perception in some naπatives creates somewhat contradictory episodes. The
social utility of the peasantry, therefore, contrasts sharply with the social desirability of peasant
status. The treatment ofBasil I by Skylitzes, drawing heavily from the Vita Basilii wήtten under
Constantine VII (which itself is similar to the Basileiai of Genesios, also commissioned by
Constantine), 12 offers a good illustration of this phenomenon. Despite sources pointing to
283
Cahit Mete Oguz
Basil's modest, agrarian oήgins,13 both the Vita and Skylitzes attempt to trace a noble lineage οη
his father's side to the distinguished Arsacids of Armenia. Οη his mother's side, they connect
him to Constantine the Great.14 It is evident from such fictitious genealogies that a simple
agraήan origin was insufficient for Basil. Following a similar logic, our sources note that the
young Basil set out for the capital because the agricultural (γεωργία) lifestyle could not support a
good enough livelihood.15 Through this emphasis οη ambition and desire for a better life, our
authors show that Basil was destined for greater things.16 Agraήan life was not to be his lot. The
Vita further defends Basil's move to the city by stating that:
He (Basil) realised that in large cities people of talent are held in high esteem and those
who surpass others in some respect obtain recognition through advancement to a
more distinguished station in life, while in obscure and humble towns (έν δέ ταϊς
άδοξοτέραις των πόλεων καi ταπε1ναϊς), as well as in the rural way of life (έν ταϊς
κωμητ1καϊς άναστροφαϊς), virtues become tarnished and fade away; because they are
neither displayed nor admired, they go to waste and wither away.17
Clearly someone as virtuous as Basil could not be associated with such a rustic and disreputable
livelihood. Incidentally, the less than desirable status of peasant life illustrated in these lines are
remarkably similar to Leo the Deacon's treatment of John Tzimiskes being sent to the coun
tryside. Returning to the story of Basil, a little further οη a seemingly contradictory twist enters
the narratives. Both Skylitzes and the Vita announce that the entire populace of the empire
rejoiced at Basil being crowned emperor. They all wished to see οη the throne a man like Basil,
who knew the hardships "suffered by the common people at the hands of the powerful."18 The
wording is slightly different in the Vita, which mentions that the people rejoiced because Basil
knew "what it meant to occupy a lower station in life and how maltreated the poor were by the
ήch." Constantine's ghost-wήter further adds that the lowly had been enslaved by their own
people.19 Here then, Basil's agraήan oήgins become an asset and show how the general
populace-peasantry included-rejoiced at being ruled by one of their own; this from sources,
which had previously insisted οη Basil's relatively noble oήgins. Skylitzes and the Vita arguably
let the noble mask slip, by descήbing a possibly true reaction of the common people towards
the crowning of someone closer in social rank to themselves. That Basil I was recognised by the
people as knowledgeable of the hardships suffered by the tapeinoi (lowly) at the hands of the
dynatoi (powerful),20 strongly suggests that the authors knew the reality behind Basil's com
paratively humbler oήgins. Furthermore, the maltreatment of the poor by the ήch-a very
common topos in Byzantine histoήcal literature-is used to slander and cήticise the reigns of
emperors who came before Basil, serving as a stark reminder of how they had "failed" the
people. This is a foreshadowing of how Basil would do the opposite.
Ihor Sevcenko has argued that the fictitious genealogy seen in Genesios's Basileiai, the Vita
Basilii, and Skylitzes's Synopsis all probably stemmed fi-om a lost ninth-century encomium of
Basil 1.21 This further establishes the above construction as a literary idealization of the em
peror's past, which clashes with the positive meήts he is attributed based οη the very thing
trying to be erased. This apparent slipping of the noble mask is further visible in the Vita Basilii 's
opening lines as the infant Basil's parents are descήbed as being "in swaddling clothes
(σπάργανον)" as they lived near Adήanople just before being attacked by the Bulgarians. Along
similar lines, both the Vita Basilii and Skylitzes naπate another episode relating to Basil's
childhood. We are told that in the summer Basil's parents would go out into the fields to urge
and pressure the "harvesters" (θεριστής) to work vigorously and efficiently (εργον έντείνοντες),
in a way goading them like animals.22 This story is part of the great omen of Basil's gloήous
284
destiny when an eagle spreads its wings and protects Basil from the sun. Clearly, the rural origins
of Basil, which Skylitzes and the Vita described, were not those of the common peasant. This
episode does not bήng to mind a particularly prominent dynatos, but perhaps suggests that Basil's
family may have worked as estate managers. What is more, while discussing the above eagle
omen, the Vita even states that this episode was largely unnoticed by people "since it could not
have occuπed to anyone that such a momentous event would ever happen in a family of simple
(λιτός) and humble (δημοτικός) people."23 Overall, an internal contradiction reveals itself,
visible beneath the surface of Skylitzes and the Vita's attempted concealment of, and positive
spin οη, Basil's relatively obscure oήgins. The reason for this blurry logic lies within the strange
duality of peasant perception found within the mindset of the literary elite.
Basil's rural background notwithstanding, generally, the peasant background of prominent
figures was used against them. This is illustrated in Skylitzes' treatment of Michael IV, and
Psellos' treatment of Michael's nephew Michael V, both of whom were provincial figures.
Both writers specifically attack the obscure origins of these respective emperors.24 Skylitzes
writes that Michael IV's humble and vulgar oήgins made him unfit to rule. Psellos, in turn,
describes Michael V's father as hailing from an insignificant and unheard-of family, coming
fromsome totally deserted (πανέρημος), faraway (έσχατιά) region of the world.25 These are
obviously literary hyperboles. Michael IV, for instance, oήginated from a peasant family in
Paphlagonia, which was by ηο means as remote a region as Skylitzes wishes his readers to
think-though the literary elite would insist that it was (such as John Mauropous). Ιη both
cases the humble oήgins of the emperor are used as a tool to attack him, becoming an
explanation for certain shortcomings of his rulership. Being of peasant oήgin did not outήght
garner condemnation, a fact exemplified by the case of Basil Ι, but in cases where a critical
stance was to be taken about a certain emperor, such origins could easily be evoked as a means
of attacking and belittling. Many further examples of criticism associated with upwards social
mobility exist within such narratives, such as Skylitzes26 or Choniates's treatment of John
Axuch, a high-ranking bureaucrat, as lowly and yet loved by the populace due to this humble
background.27 Likewise, Theophanes Continuatus slanders Michael II's provincial Athinganoi
dialect as being uncultured for the capital, going as far as labelling it a "stammeήng" to further
distance it.2 8
Sometimes, instead of naming specific individuals, narrative sources prefeπed to deny the
concept of social improvement outήght to the provincial population. Such is the case of Psellos
while he descήbes how the bureaucracy had got "corrupted" in his times, as "those who would
have formerly worn goat-hair cloaks" were now in government positions.29 The term "goat
hair cloak weaήng" (σισυροφόρος) is used to refer to the peasantry in a derogatory
manner-the Alexiad also features this same term, specifically tying it to "being poor."30 Here
Psellos implies that the more inclusive nature of state offices (which now included many
provincials and rustics) was eroding the credibility of these positions, clearly indicating his
disdain for such social mobility. Ιη another passage, echoing the same idea, Psellos cήticises
Constantine Χ (r. 1059-1067) for removing the distinction between manual workers and those
of the senate, thereby allowing "people of the marketplace" to flood the senate.31 Similarly,
Attaleiates discusses how duήng the reign of Nikephoros Botaneiates (r. 1078-1081) the senate
contained a "myήad of men" in quite a negative tone, indicating his unhappiness with the
eroding of social rank within the senate.32 The implications of these remarks ήηg loud and
clear: the peasantry belonged οη the land and should remain there. Just as the first book of
Theophanes Continuatus describes the impeήal office of Michael ΠΙ (r. 842-867) as being
"tainted by the rusticity (άγροικία) and lack of culture" of those who ruled, 33 so do the
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Cahit Mete Oguz
depictions ofBasil I's rural oήgins seemingly stand as a paradox within this social duality erected
by our elite authors. Το unravel this apparent paradox in the perception of the peasantry, a
social category illustrative of both disdain and honour at the same time, it is necessary to delve
deeper into the meaning attributed to the peasantry by Byzantine histoήcal sources.
The Collective Political Sρhere

TheByzantine polity relied strongly οη the theoretic notion that emperors were the servants of
the people. Νο emperor could last for long without heeding public concerns by adherence to
the politeia, the political sphere of the Romans. 34 This is the first manner in which the peasantry
was respected from a utilitaήan and ideological perspective by literary sources of the peήod,
echoing that it was not wise to ignore the peasantry, who made up the overwhelrning majoήty
of the population. Α good illustration of this phenomenon is Leo Tornikios, a general who
rebelled against emperorConstantine ΙΧ, and who is known to have raised an army of followers
in Thrace before marching οη the capital in 104 7. How did a rogue general attract a large group
of followers to march onto the capital? More specifically, what would create the necessary
political basis for the inhabitants of the Thracian countryside to take up arms against a polity to
which they had conceded sovereignty? The way in which Psellos's Chronographia describes the
Tornikios's rebellion provides a number of clues to answer this. According to Psellos, the
general sent messengers in all directions spreading false information that the emperor had died,
and that Theodora had chosen Tornikios as her second husband, to ensure that people would
join his cause. 35 Tornikios ηο doubt recognised that connecting himself to the impeήal throne
in this way added a much-needed legitimacy to his cause in the eyes of the inhabitants of the
Thracian countryside, which would help him recruit them to his cause. This clearly implies that
the peasantry in this region viewed themselves, and their own identity, as organically bound to,
and legitimated by, the Roman polity centred in Constantinople-as Tornikios's strategy here
indicates that the people would not desire to act outside the constraints of the politeia. But, if
Theodora had in fact chosen Tornikios as her new husband (as his rnisinformation campaign
claimed), then suddenly the mobilization of masses in the name of this general (and soon to be
emperor) fell within the political norms that the public was used to. This incident creates a
direct connection between inhabitants of the Thracian countryside and the impeήal throne in
Constantinople, whereby both are part of the same political sphere in which navigating public
opinion remained a duty of both emperors and emperor-claimants alike. This episode shows
how it was not just the citizens ofConstantinople (or even other cities) who were active within
the normative political sphere, but also the multitude of anonymous countryside dwellers
dotted across such regions as Thrace. Το return to the initially posed question, a rebellious
general was able to recruit a multitude of followers to threaten the throne by placing himself in
a political situation that would appear legitimate in the eyes of the public. Without achieving
this, without adheήng to the people, any such effort would have failed to gather momentum.
Leo Tornikios, just like Psellos himself, knew the collective power of the peasantry, a highly
desirable tool of social utility.
It is quite telling that the author of the Vita Basilii descήbes how a truly worthy ruler should
"brave danger in person for his own people and subrnit willingly to suffering and hardships in
order that all his subjects may live without fear. " 36 This sentence is a clear indication that in the
Byzantine understanding, theoretically, it was the emperor who was meant to be a servant to
the people, not the other way around. Αη example of an emperor losing the throne through
overstepping the lirnits of the politeia (in a rural setting) concerns the reign of Nikephoros Ι (r.
802-811), as descήbed within text 1 of Theophanes Continuatus. We are told that the subjects of
286
the empire hated Nikephoros and joined rebellions against his reign due to the heavy public
taxes (των δημοσίων τελων) he was imposing οη them. 37 Nikephoros was clearly perceived as
having stepped beyond what was acceptable to the politeia and thus had lost public support. As a
consequence, he ήsked losing the impeήal office. The exact opposite was also possible. Ιη
another passage, Theophanes Continuatus descήbes how Leo (the future Leo V [r. 813-820]) gave
a passionate speech to a group of soldiers duήng theirBulgaήan campaign, which resulted in
them de-legitimizing the cuπent emperor by utteήng many slanders towards him, after which
they acclaimed Leo emperor.38 The author of the text is careful to show how the vocal de
legitimizing of the cuπent emperor preceded the acclamation of a new one by this same group
of soldiers. Ιη this manner, everything was within the proper functionality of the Roman
political sphere, where a new emperor was ushered in only because the previous one had
strayed out of the ideological constraints of the politeia. Be it the regular public (including the
peasantry), or the soldiers themselves, a comrnon system of certain political understandings and
values bound soldiers and peasants alike to the polity that governed them-and this
"Romanness" was a part of their identity, a fact which is clearly recognised by historical sources
from the peήod.
Another manifestation of the power attήbuted to peasant public opinion by narrative sources
may be found in the Alexiad, which higWights the organic bond between the farming populace
and the leaders they looked up to. Anna Komnene descήbes how the peasantry (and also the
military class) greatly admired "physical strength" (μεγέθει σώματος) and "the strength of one's
arm" (κράτει βραχιόνων) in an emperor.39 Further confirmation of this trend comes fi:-om
Choniates's descήption of a pretender refeπed to as the false-Alexios ΙΙ.4° Choniates explains
how the comrnon multitude and the rural populace (πολλοίς καi άγροτέροις) adored this false
Alexios due to his impressive deportment and stature.41 Α very similar descήption of the very
same person is also given by Eustathios ofThessaloniki, who mentions how the pretender had a
very "sturdy physical appearance" (πλάσιν σώματος εύπαγη), something greatly admired by the
rural field-dwelling folk.42 Ιη all three cases there is veiled praise of an individual's brawn,
presented by elite authors as a comrnoner's idea of virtue. Ιη each case, the authors make it
explicitly clear that this was the opinion of specifically the peasants/ commoners. This, inter
estingly, demonstrates a reluctance οη their part to embrace such "plebeian ideals" as their own.
Sometimes it went beyond just appearance too.The Vita Basilii goes to great lengths to describe
the physical prowess ofBasil Ι. Ιη one such case, Constantine VII's ghost-writer descήbes how
Basil defeated a famous Bulgarian strongman in a wrestling-match, 43 and slightly further οη,
during a military campaignBasil is descήbed as being able to carry a load equal to three regular
soldiers with ease.44 Once again, there was a significant effΌrt to connect rulers with their
'flock' so to speak-as soldiers and peasants (both having physically intense lives) were seen as
composing the backbone of the empire's wellbeing.The emperor being represented as so much
stronger than his soldiers aimed at creating a connection with the masses of foot-soldiers and it
also provided an avenue of idealization.
Despite the massive chasm of social separation,Byzantine authors were very concerned with
painting a populist image of emperors; this connection was fi:-equently tied into matters of
physicality and appearance, as seen above. Α more direct extension of this can be seen in
Choniates's descήption of the portrait of Andronikos Ι Komnenos (r. 1183-1185), placed near
the gate of the church of the Forty Martyrs in Constantinople. Andronikos intended to use this
church as his mausoleum and had a large panel depicting himself placed outside its northern
Gates. 45 What is interesting is the context of the depiction. Choniates states that the emperor
was depicted as a much-enduήng labourer (πόλυτλας εργατικός) to convey his rapport with the
comrnon man. This depiction consisted of a large turquoise shirt slit down to the buttocks to
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Cahit Mete Oguz
allow for better movement, and also white workman's boots (λευκός κρηπίς), both of which
were suitable for fieldwork.46 Why would a quality equated with the lowest social denomi
nation (a group which our authors are quick to belitde in general), be so positively associated
with emperors? It is connected to the idea that agriculture was seen as an honest, decent work
that an exemplary Roman citizen would be engaged in, essentially the backbone of the entire
economy. This idea of the "honest, labouήng farmer" was embedded into the idyllic image of
the empire within the perception of the non-agraήan elite populace. Most probably stemming
from a deep-down recognition of their dependence οη this social segment for survival, em
perors continuously aimed towards the cultivation of public opinion. Andronikos's decision to
present himself as an idealised farmer in his self-portrait, and numerous historians and
chroniclers emphasizing the physicality of certain emperors, as seen above, are manifestations of
this peasant valoήsation by the elite populace. This generalised idealization went hand-in-hand
with the scathing and belittling attitude towards the same agraήan populace οη an individual
level though, a point which will be returned to below.
Feeding into the "populist" literary theme was the idea elite figures (and even emperors)
were greatly concerned with agήculture itself Skylitzes's descήption of how Leo the
Mathematician helped out the seasonal harvest for several years by reading the stars and giving
accurate predictions to the peasantry as to when to plant their seeds and reap them, is evidence
of interactions (at least mentally) between the courtly elite and the empire's productive classes.47
According to Skylitzes such collaboration averted a famine. Ιη this passage, a learned, high
ranking individual and member of the clergy is presented as more knowledgeable about farming
than the actual farmers themselves, whose entire livelihood depended οη such knowledge.
While possible, this scenaήo seems unlikely. The fact that Leo's words prevent a supposed
famine implies that prior to this the farmers did not know when to plant seeds and reap them.
This likely falsehood serves, however, a literary purpose by showing how Leo used his vast
knowledge for good causes. Furthermore, that even a tremendously learned archbishop assists
with the harvest highlights the importance of agήculture in the elite mindset. Similarly, Psellos
descήbes Romanos ΠΙ as running his own estates so proficiently that he was able to forestall the
seasons and reap great benefits fi:-om his crops.48 Again the implausible idea that a high-ranking
individual (the emperor in this case) knew more about agriculture is evoked. Psellos further
elaborates that, thanks to this, Romanos was able to lay off many of his dependent peasants fi:-om
his estates. There is ηο further mention of the fate of these dispensed farmworkers. Presumably,
they would have been forced to relocate and become wage-labourers elsewhere-in itself, a
highly disruptive occuπence. The individual lives of the peasants though are not really Psellos's
concern. Instead, he emphasises the collective role of the peasantry in the agricultural machine,
with even an emperor presented as chipping into the ordeal.
Protection of the Peasantry as a Literary Τοροs

The respect attήbuted to agήculture by Byzantine histoήcal naπatives is undeniable, and οη top
of being an idealised tσpσs for impeήal decency, it was also miπored in actual policymaking.
From this point of view, agήculture was bound to the peasantry, and the continuity of the
former relied οη the protection of the latter. Emperors were often praised for protecting their
subjects fi:-om malicious actors seeking to profit fi:-om their demise. The preface of the Geσpσnika
perfecdy exemplifies the importance of fieldwork in the Byzantine mindset; it descήbes agή
culture as the "staff of human life," constituting the most important element of any state, even
more so than the army or the clergy.49 Several passages fi:-om histoήcal sources build upon the
premise laid out in the Geσpσnika to solidify the idea that the "protection of the peasantry" was
288
a truly essential trait for any emperor who wished to be remembered. Ιη general, definitions of
justice evoked in sources fi:-om this period connect strongly with notions of supporting and
protecting the peasantry against injustices committed by the dynatoi (the powerful) and corrupt
officials.
The Vita Basilii being quite a panegyήc account of Basil I's reign illustrates the policy
making traits of an "ideal emperor" according to such public perception. Ιη Chapter 30, the
Vita descήbes how Basil, when he first became emperor, decided to reform his bureaucratic
team to prevent any injustice towards his main tax-base (i.e., the peasantry). The exact wording
here states, "The poor (οί πένητες) were not to be oppressed by the ήch (των πλουτούντων)
any longer, nor was anyone to suffer unjustly. Instead, the poor and needy man (πένητα καi
πτωχόν) was to be delivered out of the hands of those who were stronger than he." 50 The Vita
continues; " ... now the weak and poor (άσθενη) could till his plot of land and gather the fi:-uit of
his own vineyard without fear, because ηο longer was anyone daήng enough to appropήate that
man's ancestral olive or fig trees." 51 Further οη, the author describes Basil as listening carefully
to his own subjects who flocked to him οη account of taxation abuse they were suffeήng.52 Still
further οη, Basil realises that rural folk (iiγροικος) were being conned by tax-collectors because
they could not read the numbeήng system οη the tax-registers presented to them. Basil,
therefore, decided that it should be wήtten in a way that even the peasantry could understand,
to counter such abuse.53 Finally, towards the end of the Vita we are told that Basil countered a
practice whereby tax-assessors were handing to others the vacant land of deceased villagers, thus
eroding village communes by encroaching οη their lands. We are told that; "Basil forbid this,
saying that it is better that someone profit illegally from what belongs to me than that someone
be subjected to ruinous loss and crushing misfortune." Here the idea is that tax re-assessment is
not worth oppressing a few people by mistake, even if that means a few others may be paying
insufficient taxes (i.e., stealing fi:-om the emperor). This line, supposedly uttered by Basil
himself, clearly illustrates that a well-respected emperor needed to protect his flock, especially
the peasantry. Our author paints Basil 1, time after time, as being a very caήng ruler listening to
his subjects, heeding the wishes of the politeia, and protecting the poor fi:-om the encroachments
and oppressive treatment of the ήch/powerful. The topos of protecting the weak fi:-om the
powerful thus form the backbone of many Byzantine chronicles, as exemplified by the Vita
Basilii seen above.
This idealised defence of the peasantry seen in the Vita Basilii bled into the policies reflected
in the so-called Macedonian land legislation of the tenth-century peήod. These legal texts were
issued by successive emperors issuing law after law trying to protect the peasantry (i.e., their
pήmary tax base) fi:-om the encroachments of the dynatoi. Angeliki Laiou has rightly noted that
histoήcal sources written in the tenth century generally paint a normative definition of justice
which is exceptionally concerned with the protection of the peasantry, even more so than later
sources, who often expand such cήteήa to include some non-rural parameters as well.54 For
example, book 6 of Theophanes Continuatus features great praise for Constantine VII's land
legislation which furthered the efforts of previous emperors in combatting the eroding of
peasant property by the dynatoi. The author states positively how the emperor made sure that
wealthy people who had bought or somehow came to acquire "the lands and fields of villages
should be dήνeη out without compensation," 55 further going οη to praise how like this the
insolent and greedy ήch people were put in their place. Once again, Constantine VII's courtly
circle confirm that rulers were meant to protect their peasantry fi:-om the more powerful.
Praising emperors through their defence of the peasantry and adherence to the needs of the
politeia is a trend running throughout Byzantine histoήography of the later peήod too.
Choniates, for example, descήbes emperor Andronikos 1 (r. 1183-1185) throughout several
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Cahit Mete Oguz
examples in a manner not dissimilar to how Basil was presented by the Vita Basilii. The em
peror, we are told, dealt very harshly with any tax-collectors (φορολόγος) who were reported
to have been abusing their powers towards the people. Furthermore, Andronikos "called back
all public officials" (δημόσιος τελεστής) to completely stop the torment and abuse which these
tax-collectors (πράκτωρ) were levying οη the populace. Choniates states that these tax
collectors were abusing their power by adding fabήcated, extra taxes to the burdens of the
provinces, thus "they were consuming the people as if they were loaves of bread." 56 As with the
Vita Basilii's treatment ofBasil 1, here too we have an emperor dealing with "greedy officials"
who were trying to profit off the "honest" peasantry. When praising Andronikos, Choniates
descήbes how the emperor would listen equally to commoners of lowly oήgin (χθαμαλός) and
to "wealthy, powerful individuals" (πλούτφ σεμνόν),57 not differentiating between any two
men. Clearly, heeding his less fortunate subjects was a positive trait for an emperor to display.
The fact that Choniates found it worth highlighting, implies that not every emperor acted in a
similiar manner. He then proceeds to naπate a specific case where the country folk actually
won a case. Ιη this incident, brought to Andronikos by a group of rustics (άγροικίας τινές), a
wealthy man known as Theodore Dadibrenos is said to have taken supplies fi-om a group of
peasants and then departed without paying them back. Then, we are told, Andronikos actually
found Dadibrenos guilty and, οη top of sentencing him to 12 lashes, also ordered the 'Όfficials
of the impeήal fisc" (χρυσώνων των βασιλικών) to pay the peasants (άγρότεροι) their expenses
many times in excess.58 Ιη this instance we have an emperor "siding" with the peasantry against
a so-called dynatoi in order to achieve justice for the former, and Choniates presents this action
of the emperor as the case of exemplary rulership.
The same trend can be isolated in the naπatives of Attaleiates and Psellos too, both concerning
the reign oflsaac I Komnenos (r. 1057-1059). Attaleiates's History informs us that the emperor
confiscated land fi-om monasteήes, fi-eeing those who tilled the adjoining fields (άγρογείτων) fi-om
the oppression of these pious foundations. It appears that monasteήes were forcing the farmers to
suπender their lands to them.59 Attaleiates condemns the monks for their greed (άπληστοι), and
also cήticises the law system for being skewed against the farmers; they had ηο chance of winning
any disputes against the powerful monastery. Just like the "coπupt officials" alluded in the Vita
Basilii and Choniates's naπative, here the monasteήes are representative of a powerful and greedy
force encroaching οη the helpless villagers-who were only helpless until the "great" emperor
stepped in and defended their ήghts. Ιη Psellos's Chronographia the same event is also alluded to
when Psellos praises Isaac I's attempts to curb the growing power of large landholders by con
fiscating donations handed out by previous emperors and also by greatly lirniting the funds made
°
available to the Church.6 For both Attaleiates and Psellos, the protection of peasant lands fi-om
the encroachments of such recently empowered monastic foundations was part and parcel with
the duties of an emperor for the well-being of his subjects. As such, Isaac I was acting within the
proper constraints of public interest according to our elite authors.
Sometimes even word choices offer hints towards the literary trends at play. For example,
Attaleiates uses the word "poor-lover" (φιλόπτωχον) to descήbe Constantine Χ Doukas (r.
1059-1067), in the context of explaining how he took care of the less-fortunate.61 Again, this
evokes similar ideas of the "protection of the peasantry." Υet another instance of such praise can
be found in the naπative of Skylitzes, whereby we are told that Nikephoros II Phokas (r.
963-969) heard from his subjects that the price of grain had skyrocketed. Shedding tears in
sympathy, Nikephoros immediately scolded his officials and placed the impeήal grain reserves
62
οη the market, significantly loweήng the pήce of grain. Ιη this case, once again, the emperor
is depicted as heeding the needs of the populace in a truly caring fashion (especially evoked by
how he is descήbed as crying).
290
Neglecting the Peasantry as a Literary Topos

As much as our Byzantine histoήcal sources enjoyed praising certain emperors, they also equally
loved to slander emperors deemed as having failed the politeia. Such hostile accounts from the
sources represent the inverse of what we have seen above, namely how the exploitation/
oppression of the peasantry was used as a means of gauging and illustrating the wickedness of an
emperor. Essentially the same literary theme reversed, this "dark-side" is nonetheless useful in
illustrating how important such issues were for the Byzantine mindset. Book one of Theophanes
Continuatus features this "reverse" theme of impeήal cήticism abundantly due to it being a
cήtical account of the iconoclastic emperors preceding Basil Ι (wήtten from a highly icono
philic perspective). This is instructive for establishing examples of what a "bad" emperor would
be like towards his subjects in a Byzantine literary topos. Emperors such as Michael ΙΙ (r.
820-829) and Theophilos (r. 829-842), are descήbed as squandeήng the imperial treasury
pointlessly, letting the rural folk be oppressed by extra-ordinary burdens, and, furthermore,
their reigns are described as "agriculturally unfavourable" as famines and droughts are descήbed
abundantly (furtheήng the imagery connecting positive rulership qualities with agraήan affiu
ence). The trends found here, in this late-tenth-century chronicle, are found in an even more
in-depth fashion in the histoήcal wήtings of Attaleiates, Leo the Deacon, Skylitzes, and
Choniates. More specifically, in the treatment of Michael VII and his chief minister
Nikephoήtzes by Attaleiates, ofLeo Phokas byLeo the Deacon, ofMichael IV and his minister
John the Orphanotrophos by Skylitzes, and of Manuel Ι and his entire bureaucracy by
Choniates.
Attaleiates's account of the "evil" chief minister (logothete) Nikephoros (under the rule of
Michael VII) and the phoundax institution he set up in Thrace is a case in point. The phoundax
was an impeήal granary, set up conveniently at the port ofRhaidestos to regulate the Thracian
grain supply.63 It restήcted the purchase of grain by locals, instead of allowing select groups to
exercise monopoly over it, and also enabling easier toll and tax collection by state officials.
Attaleiates descήbes how phoundax officials harassed the "poor merchants (έμπορος) and
farmers" (γεωργός), and furthermore, ηο one was able to stand up to them because "they were
backed by the power of the logothetes. "64 Attaleiates, himself owning property inRhaidestos, is
an obviously hostile source for this episode, yet the way he phrases his attack against
Nikephoros through a defence of the peasantry is quite telling. He appears very sympathetic
towards the locals, seeming very frustrated by their lack of legal power even when the pήce of
grain had increased by 18-fold (the pήce of grain went from 1/18 of a nomisma to 1 nomisma per
modios). This increase had happened due to the monopolization of grain trading by the
phoundax, as before this, locals would have traded their grain in the katatopia for smaller market
toll fees. 65 Overall, it is clear that οη this dispute, which hinged between the state and the
citizens of Rhaidestos, Attaleiates was firmly supportive of the latter in his History, which is
arguably because he identified more closely with them. 66 The same issue is also featured in the
Skylitzes Continuatus, most probably wήtten by Skylitzes with Attaleiates's History as his
source, 67 who similarly describes the phoundax as causing "the cruellest famine anyone could
recall. "68 Skylitzes notes that as a result of this scandalous practice, Michael VII Doukas was
calledMichael Parapinakes ("less than a quarter") for years to come, alluding to the terήbly high
pήces of grain his reign had created.69 Not protecting the peasantry and not heeding public
concems were clearly reasons for drawing heavy cήticism from contemporary and later authors
alike. Εήc McGeer has pointed out how more than 70 years later John Zonaras mentions how
Michael VII was still refeπed to as Parapinakes. 70 Α similar example can be found in Leo the
Deacon's history conceming the reign of Nikephoros ΙΙ (r. 963-969). We are told that Leo
291
Cahit Mete Oguz
Phokas the Kouropalates7 1 (the younger brother of Nikephoros ΙΙ) and emperor Nikephoros ΙΙ
were abusing the peasantry mercilessly; as the former was buying grain for low prices and selling
it back to the peasantry at steeply inflated values, while the latter was introducing new unheard
taxes to fill his wallets.72 Essentially both Michael VII (and his logothete Nikephoritzes) and
Nikephoros ΙΙ are slandered harshly for abusing and exploiting the producing populace. Ιη
general, practices and policies directed against the well-being of the peasantry appear to garner
stήct criticism throughout Byzantine histoήography.73
Skylitzes's treatment of John the Orphanotrophos, the de-facto ruler of the empire during
the reign of Michael IV (r. 1034-1041) is similar to the example descήbed above. Skylitzes
descήbes in hostile terms, John's introduction of a "new public tax," specifically targeting
villages, called the aerikon (άερικον).74 It decreed that each village (χωρίων) should pay a
number of gold pieces according to its ability. Skylitzes, being a fervent cήtic of the policies of
John the Orphanotrophos, criticises this new tax burden as being a shameful (αίσχρός) and
disgraceful act (αίσχύνη) only designed to generate income for the impeήal coffers. Just like the
case with Nikephoros the logothete, once again, we have an impeήal official being slandered for
trying to fill the impeήal treasury in manners, which were seen by our author as being against
the public wellbeing. The understanding of such a "wellbeing" heeded that the peasantry must
be protected and should not be milked dry with extra taxation to counterbalance lavish and/or
pointless expenditures of the impeήal court. As can be seen, emperors and officials who are
vilified in histoήcal naπatives are quite frequently cήticised fi:-om angles pήmaήly directed at
exposing how they strayed from their service to the politeia in policymaking.
Cases from the sources are so abundant that the reality of such tax-measures becomes bluπed
with the literary conventions of describing the reigns of emperors deemed as failures in
hindsight in such manners. Choniates's treatment ofManuel Ι Komnenos (r. 1143-1180) is an
exemplary treatment of bad fiscal policies being used as a scapegoat to try to explain a perceived
contemporary "decline." Ιη this case, it was the catastrophic events of 1204. Choniates harshly
slanders Manuel I's policies by descήbing how the emperor effectively plundered his own
population through the implementation of "extraordinary/unaccustomed taxes" (φόρος
άσυνήθης).75 Choniates appears especially defensive about the fact that these taxes were out of
the ordinary, which he explicitly stresses. He further descήbes how coπupt tax-farmers, much
hated by the peasantry, were sent out to turn uncultivated land (νέωμα) into arable fields
(iiρουρα) and increase taxes/spoil (δασμός).76 This policy was aimed at increasing the agrarian
revenue derived fi:-om the land, as uncultivated land yielded nothing. Choniates then descήbes,
in a very cήtical tone, how most of this revenue was subsequently spent οη lavish endowments
to ecclesiastical entities and to the Latins.
Several further notable examples of the same theme can be dissected fi:-om the naπatives of
Skylitzes and Attaleiates. The former descήbes Nikephoros ΙΙ Phokas (r. 963-969) as treating
his subjects atrociously, specifically by imposing additional taxes (προσθήκη συντέλεια).77
Further along, he adds how Constantine ΙΧ (r. 1042-1055) exacted extraordinary taxes to
remedy the fact that he had drained the treasury,78 while also appointing "impious, cήminal
men" as tax collectors to harass the countryside. Attaleiates, in turn, describes in harsh tones
how Constantine Χ Doukas (r. 1059-1067) burdened the provinces with new, "increased
taxes" (φορολογικάς έπαυξήσεις) despite the provinces already being deeply troubled by
barbarian attacks/inroads.79 Furthermore, he adds that there were widespread complaints
(γογγυσμός) from many people who were forced to pay sums they did not owe to the treasury
(i.e., the emperor acting with injustice and disregard for the politeia). The general trend in all the
above examples, which creates a common continuity between these naπative histoήes, is that
they have imbued their descήptions with a defensive tone against the peasantry. Negative
292
adjectives are used to descήbe harsh tax measures, oppressive policies, and emperors who
neglected their subjects and strayed too far fi-om the pσliteia.
Even if such cήticism against emperors were steeped in contemporary politics (such as
Attaleiates's anti-Doukas stance) and therefore may not be completely accurate, the very fact
that such slanders were articulated by way of concern for the peasantry and the general public
wellbeing is an important conclusion to be reached. Both literary conventions, praising em
perors and cήticizing them, operated within a framework that consisted of an apparent un
derstanding that "good" emperors by nature heeded their "flock" and protected them fi-om
malicious/ greedy actors, while "bad" emperors did not. Clearly, the importance of the pea
santry, in these cases, stemmed fi-om their direct role in agήculture. Once again, however, this
was the collective of the peasants that was valoήsed here, not the peasant as an individual. The
important thing to differentiate here is that this idealised defence of the peasantry was applicable
for the peasantry as a whole, as a massive group of unnamed cogs, manning the machinery of
the Byzantine polity. This contrasts sharply with the perception of peasants as actual individuals
by our authors-when they were often belittled and side-lined. The spurned individual peasant,
thus seen as part of a larger whole, emerged as the object of impeήal attentions, a constitutive
part of the res publica rσmana.
Utility as the Rhetorical Key

What separated the peasantry as a general social formation from a single peasant as an individual
person in the formulation of this literary culture? It boils down to one important point: utility.
Αη individual peasant was largely expendable, uninteresting, and uncultured. As a group,
however, the peasantry represented the Roman population at large, but also the backbone of
the economy and the military-the two most crucial pillars of Roman society. The land leg
islation of Romanos Ι Lekapenos (r. 919-944), issued in 934, sums this understanding up
perfectly:
We have considered it advantageous that now ηο longer will anyone be depήved of

his own properties, nor will a poor man suffer oppression, and that this advantage is
beneficial to the common good, acceptable to God, profitable to the treasury, and
useful to the state.80
Here Lekapenos, like the entire series of legal codes formulated by the so-called Macedonian
emperors, adamantly urges the protection of the peasantry from the encroachments of the
dynatσi. The reasoning he provides, "profitable to the treasury, and useful to the state," lays clear
emphasis οη the protection of the peasantry as a matter of social and collective profitability and
utility, rather than as individual people. This miπors the educated perception of this segment of
the populace in the excerpts discussed above. It also served to elevate agraήan production to a
high standard in the Byzantine mindset, especially in compaήson to other revenue-yielding
ventures, such as trade and banking, which would only gain elite-legitimacy later in the em
pire's history.81
The idea of the collective utility of the peasantry is also echoed in Byzantine military
manuals, such as the Taktika ofLeo VI, or the anonymous military manual On Skirmishing (Περί
Παραδρομης), which clearly show that the army was expected to live off the land while tra
versing through (and being stationed in) fήendly teπitoήes. 82 Another indication of the cen
trality attήbuted to the agraήan economy and the peasantry as a whole is that whenever fertile
land lay bare, emperors would strongly insist οη its cultivation. This action was often
293
Cahit Mete Oguz
undertaken at the expense of individual peasant livelihood because baπen land was usually
baπen for a reason. For example, Skylitzes descήbes how, in the year 1032, a grave famine and
associated pestilence terήbly affiicted the farmers of several regions, resulting in them fleeing
their homes and migrating elsewhere. When emperor Romanos ΠΙ (r. 1028-1034) heard of
this, he ordered them to go back to their homes, 83 as the complete abandonment of several
agήculturally important themes was not acceptable fi-om the impeήal viewpoint. The im
portance of overall agrarian production and its taxation was greater than the hardship imposed
οη a few peasants sent back to their devastated lands.
The Collective Control of Violence

The peasantry was not only useful because of their essential agraήan role in Byzantium. They
constituted the largest segment of society and also furnished the manpower duήng both re
bellions (a form of politics) and warfare. Α poem from the tenth century, the Capture of Crete by
Theodosios the Deacon, descήbes Nikephoros ΙΙ giving a rousing speech to his soldiers in the
year 961. One line from this excerpt goes like this: 'Ίf he (the soldier) has children and a farm,
the chosen sovereign, as thereafter a father, will care for him, for his children, for his wife; let
him have ηο fear about this." 84 This sentence clearly recognises that most foot-soldiers were in
fact farmers and that the protection of these peasant-soldiers was in the firm hands of the
emperor, the overseer of justice and public wellbeing. This is what is being communicated to
the soldiers οη the eve of battle. The specific phrasing here is reminiscent of the agrarian
function of the peasantry; being coddled due to their utilitaήan functioning as the backbone of
the army. He who controlled the people, basically controlled the most powerful mechanism of
violence, manpower. This "force" was capable of being fashioned into armies, toppling em
perors with rebellions, or subjugating foreign powers. However, this power was seldom har
nessed by the people themselves, and rarely ever coordinated from below (i.e., without an
aήstocratic leader). Byzantium's elites respected this potential power and always tήed to heed
the politeia for their own wellbeing. The number of reigns duήng the middle Byzantine peήod
ending in premature depositions is evidence in itself that the people mattered.
Histoήcal sources frequently allude to this connection between the control of violence and
adherence to the needs of the politeia. Α case in point is Leo the Deacon's descήption of how
general Leo Phokas addressed his soldiers οη the eve of battle during a campaign οη the Eastern
front duήng the mid-tenth century. We are told that the general incited his soldiers by telling
them that being Romans, it was their duty to protect their fellow countrymen fi-om foreign
plunderers, and to recover and return any supplies the latter may have lost to the invaders.85
Here Leo the Deacon is emphasizing the solidaήty which the impeήal army (and the general
Leo Phokas) had with their fellow countrymen (i.e., the peasantry in these Eastern terήtoήes).
This created a bond through which these disparate social segments were woven together
momentaήly in a broader Roman identity, contrasting with the hostile invaders. More spe
cifically, by evoking the "protection of the peasantry" as a means to embolden his soldiers οη
the eve battle, Leo Phokas is recognizing that fighting for a cause directly related to their own
lives would seem very attractive for these soldiers. He articulates this concern through impeήal
connotations, reminding these soldiers that the emperor (and the broader state bureaucracy)
"had their back" in matters associated with the monopolization and practice of violence.
Connected to this idea is the explanation fi-om histoήcal narratives of how rebellious leaders
such as Thomas the Slav, Leo Tornikios, and Alexios Branas dragooned commoners/peasants
for military purposes. Ιη such instances, the peasantry could be punished for participating οη the
"wrong" side of the struggle for power between two individuals. How much individual choice
294
they had in joining such causes is debatable and yet we know that rebels did send soldiers to
address the rural populace as they set out οη their revolution against the state. Α good example
of this phenomenon is the rebellion of Alexios Branas against the reign oflsaac ΙΙ Angelos in the
year 1187, as descήbed by Choniates. We are told that Branas managed to win over the al
legiance of the populace around the Propontis and subsequently proceeded to arm these
peasants and use them in his attack against Constantinople.86 What rhetoric did rebels deploy in
talking to the farmers and the rural population at large? Is it likely that the legal valoήsation of
peasant labour evident in the Macedonian land legislation linked up with emphasis οη hard
work and toil to construct a populist narrative? What would make these politically significant
lowly peasants ήsk punishment by joining a rebel's cause? The example in Theodosios the
Deacon's poem seen above hints at the sort of language that may have been used in recruiting
the peasantry; through an emphasis οη protection and caήng, similar to how the policies of
emperors towards their populace is naπated in histoήcal accounts of the period. Incidentally,
Choniates continues the above story by describing how, after the downfall of Branas, the
emperor allowed his partisans to maltreat the commoners living along the Propontis (who had
joined Branas's cause), while also buming down their settlements with "liquid fire." 87 Here we
see an encounter in which a divided populace actively participates in a violent political debate.
Despite the participation of these peasants, the amount of coercion for them to join this
venture, which resulted in their eventual demise, should not be overlooked.
Conclusion
Overall, in these naπatives, the importance of the peasantry hinges pήmaήly οη them being
part of the pσliteia, essentially representing the largest denomination of the Roman public
sphere. Thus, the peasantry eams its respect through an ideological service to the pσliteia, which
is routed through a utility-focused perspective, for their economic, military, and public
opinion-related purposes. This collective respect attήbuted to the peasantry as a whole contrast
sharply with the scathing way in which the "infeήor" peasant lifestyle is usually descήbed. This
issue is demonstrated through the difficulty our authors exhibit in trying to reconcile the
peasant origins of certain figures with the extensive social mobility that leads them to positions
of power. Such an outlook implies that each individual peasant ought to remain as part of the
general undefined manpower pool, continuing to till the land and man the army. As part of that
nexus, he was to be coddled, persuaded, and even recruited in politics. Thus, the elite view of
the peasantry appears to be based οη a pragmatic understanding of its political significance. The
peasantry is idealised as an honest workforce (contrasting it with other less reputable professions)
who are recognised as necessary for the authors' own existence, yet their lifestyle and individual
worth is largely ignored, slandered, and alienated. Much sympathy and verbal defence exists for
the peasantry within the scope of extra taxation, coπupt officials, famines, and hostile invasions,
with the result that the peasants were positively represented as a collective whole. Ideological
imperatives and the traditions of the Byzantine republic ensured that peasants would be well
respected as a sovereign body, but disrespected as actual living, breathing individuals.
Notes
1 Michael Psellos, The History rifPsellos, Edited with Critical Notes and Indices, ed. Constantine Sathas
(London: Methuen, 1899). For this specific passage, used for explaining Michael IV's ancestry, see
Psellos, 4.28. For the English translation, see Michael Psellos, Fourteen Byzantine Rulers, trans. E.R.A.
Sewter (New Υork: Penguin, 1966), 70.
295
Cahit Mete Oguz
2 Some ofthese words are, γεωργός (literally meaning soil-tiller), χωρίτης (country-dwellers), iiγροικος
(field-dwellers), άγρότερος (rustic), θεριστής (harvesters), σισυροφόρος (goat-hair cloak weaήng-a
term associated with being rustic and poor).
3 Eustathios of Thessaloniki, The Capture cif Ίhessaloniki: Text and Translation, trans. J.R.M. Jones
(Canberra: AABS, 1988), 11(}-1.
4 John Κinnamos, Epitome Historiarum, ed. Α. Meinecke (Βοηη: Weber, 1836). For this specific passage,
see Κinnamos, 5.11. For the English translation, see John Κinnamos, Deeds cif ]ohn and Manuel
Comnenus, trans. C.M. Brand (New Υork: Columbia University Press, 1976), 175.
5 Niketas Choniates, Historia, ed. J.L. Dieten, CFHB, Vol. 11 (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1975), 304; Niketas
Choniates, Ο City of Byzantium: Annals cif Niketas Choniates, trans. H.J. Magoulias (Michigan: Wayne
State University Press, 1984), 168.
6 Andrew Dalby, Geoponika: Α Farm Work (Devon, U.Κ.: Prospect Books, 2011), 12-41. It has been
established archaeologically that individual peasant properties would, whenever possible, have their
own small garden plots to grow vegetables. The Geoponika also notes the importance ofsmall vegetable
gardens by mentioning how having a small patch ofvegetables growing in proxirnity to one's house
was important for health reasons. Α multitude ofother articles in book 12 ofthe Geoponika also depicts
the medicinal importance ofa wide vaήety oflocal vegetables. Α small patch ofself-grown vegetables
could greatly enrich the bland diet of a peasant, while also providing a safety net in times of crop
failures or other disasters. Especially the entry οη cabbage is quite extensive, indicating that this ve
getable must have been quite common in Byzantine lands. We are informed of a multitude of
medicinal uses of cabbages, such as supposedly cuήng jaundice, splenetic illnesses, bites of pests, le
prosy, mouth ulcers, tonsil sores, and insomnia.
7 Anna Comnenea Alexias, eds. D.R. Reinsch and Α Kambylis, CFHB Vol. 40 (Berlin: De Gruyter,
2001). For this specific phrase, see 13.2.4. For the English translation, see Anna Comnena, The Alexiad,
trans. E.A.S. Dawes (London: Roudedge, 2000), 232.
8 Eustathios of Thessaloniki, The Capture of Ίhessaloniki, 110-1.
9 Leonis diaconi Caloensis Historiae libri decern, ed. C.B. Hase (Βοηη, 1828). For this specific passage, see
5.5-6. For the English translation, see Leo the Deacon, The History, trans. Α. Talbot and D. Sullivan
(Washington D.C.: DO, 2005), 135-8.
10 Leonis diaconi Caloensis Historiae, 5.7; Leo the Deacon, The History, 138.
11 For clarification purposes Theophanes Continuatus has been split up into its respective components in
the figure, namely Book 1-4, the Vita Basilii, and Book 6-thereby, skipping the intermediate part
which was not utilise in this study. Furthermore, several works created as "world chronicles" have
been marked based οη the parts which are relevant for this study's time peήod-such as the chronicle
ofJohn Zonaras and Symeon the Logothete. Also, works with anonymous authors have been labelled
with the term with which the works are generally referred to in scholarship.
12 Theophanis Continuati Liber V Vita Basilii Imperatoris, ed. Ihor Sevcenko, CFHB Vol. 42 (Berlin: De
Gruyter, 2011), 10-1. The Vita Basilii is a biography of Basil Ι, which is the second section of
Theophanes Continuatus, most probably written around the year 950. Despite being written as ifby
Constantine VII himself, it has been accepted by scholarship to most definitely be the work ofa ghost
writer from Constantine's court. Genesios's Basileiai has a very sirnilar account as the Vita Basilii and
these works most probably deήved from a common older source which Constantine VII's was giving
to those he commissioned these works from. For the complete Greek text and accompanying English
translation, see Ihor Sevcenko's edition cited above.
13 John Skylitzes, Α Synopsis of Byzantine History, trans. J. Wortley (Cambήdge: CUP, 2010), 118. It is
generally taken that Basil Ι was ofquite modest, agrarian origins from the Armenian region. Wordey's
treatment ofthis subject features several works discussing Basil's oήgins in the footnotes. Ofthese, an
anonymous poem found in Markopoulos' work clearly shows Basil's modest oήgins; Athanasios
Markopoulos, An Anonymous Laudatory Poem in Honor cif Basil Ι, DOP 46 (1992): 225-2.
14 Vita Basilii, 14-5; Synopsis Historiarum, 115-6; Skylitzes, Synopsis, 116-7. Constantine VI is described as
having given a daughter in marriage to this farnily, who would eventually become the grandmother of
Basil Ι. The son ofthis marriage is described as yielding Basil I's father.
15 Ioannis Scylitzae Synopsis Historiarum, ed. Η. Thurn, CFHB Vol. 5 (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1973), 119;
Skylitzes, Synopsis, 120; Vita Basilii, 28-9.
16 This is a theme also visible in previous narratives. Prokopios' Secret History (6.23) contains a similar
explanation while discussing the move of Justin Ι to the capital to escape poverty.
17 Vita Basilii, 31. These are lines 15-21 from book 7 ofthe Vita.
296
18 Synopsis Historiarum, 130; Skylitzes, Synopsis, 129. The specific phrasing is: οία πάσχουσιν ύπό των
δυνατωτέρων οί ταπεινότεροι."
19 Vita Basilii 108-9.
20 These two terms were more about social status and rank rather than the economic wealth of the
individual. The dynatoi were well-connected individuals of decent rank (in the civil, military, or ec
clesiastical bureaucracies), able to intimidate/threaten those oflower rank and, in a fiscal-sense, were
quite often large landholders. The tapeinos (also referred to as ptochoi and penetes) constituted anyone
who was not part ofthe civil, military, or ecclesiastical bureaucracy (without a proper social rank), who
were generally poor. These individuals either did not directly own any property or were a peasant
small-holders-and, as a result, were not exempt from the range of secondary tax charges that the
dynatoi enjoyed. For more inforrnation, see Εήc McGeer, The Land Legislation cif the Macedonian
Emperors: Translation and Commentary (Ontario: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 2000), 26.
21 Vita Basilii, 10.
22 Synopsis Historiarum, 118; Skylitzes, Synopsis, 120; Vita Basilii, 22-5.
23 The Synopsis, 120; Vita Basilii, 24-5.
24 Synopsis Historiarum, 391; Skylitzes, Synopsis, 369.
25 Psellos, 4.26.14.
26 Synopsis Historiarum, 194; Skylitzes, Synopsis, 189. This man, who obviously was not actually a beggar,
is being described with such adjectives by Skylitzes to use his background as a platforrn to cήticise him.
The social mobility which John Lazares undergoes thanks to his personal, very close friendship with
emperor John ΙΙ Komnenos, has obviously deeply troubled Skylitzes.
27 Choniates describes how people appeared to admire John Axuch, despite his lowly origins. Lowly
oήgins were such a large barrier that Choniates appears quite impressed that this man was loved by the
people despite his humble background. Historia, 10; Choniates, Annals, 8.
28 Theophanis Continuati Libri I-IV, ed. Α. Kambylis, CFHB Vol. 53 (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2015), 68-9.
The Athinganois were a ninth-century sect of Monarchians located around Phyrgia, they were often
viewed as quite heretic by the deeply Orthodox. Both the Greek text and the accompanying English
translation can be found in the CFHB seήes cited above.
29 Psellos, 6.134.6.
30 Comnenea, Alexias, 10.2; Komnene, Alexiad, 168.
31 Psellos, 6.29.
32 Michael Attaleiates, Michaelis Attaliotae Historia, eds. W. Brunet de Presle and Ι. Bekker (Βοηη, 1853),
275. For the translation, see Michael Attaleiates, The History, trans. Α. Kaldellis and D. Κrallis
(Cambridge, ΜΑ: HUP, 2012), 500-1.
33 Theophanis Continuati, 262-3.
34 For a detailed discussion οη Byzantium as a "Republic" and the concept of the politeia, see Anthony
Kaldellis, The Byzantine Republic: People and Power in New Rome (Cambήdge, ΜΑ: HUP, 2015). For
detailed treatment οη the conceptual basis ofthe "res publica," see Clifford Ando, Imperial Ideology and
Provincial Loyalty in the Roman Empire (Berkeley: UCP, 2000). For more details οη the provincial
applications of "Romanness," see Anthony Kaldellis, "The Social Scope of Roman Identity ιη
Byzantium: Αη Evidence-Based Approach," Byzantina Symmeikta 27 (2017): 173-210, here 173.
35 Psellos, 6.103.
36 Vita Basilii, 134-5.
39 Comnenea, Alexias, 1. 7.2; Komnene, Alexiad, 16. The exact terrn Annauses is άγροικικόν, which
specifically means somebody living in the field (άγρός), referring to the peasants.
40 Choniates, Historia, 420-2; Choniates, Annals, 231-2. This man pretended to be Manuel Ι
Komnenos's (r. 1143-1180) son Alexios ΙΙ in order to gain the throne around the year 1185 (the real
Alexios ΙΙ had been murdered earlier, in 1183). False-Alexios was able to raise an arrny due to his
physical resemblance to the deceased Alexios ΙΙ and his father Manuel Ι Komnenos. Choniates appears
to admire this man's capability in fooling so many people as he narrates this episode. Eventually, he was
killed by a certain pήest, according to Choniates, but not before raising a large army and ravaging the
provinces around Western Anatolia.
41 Choniates, Historia, 421; Choniates, Annals, 232.
42 Eustathios ofThessaloniki, The Capture cif Thessaloniki, 60-1. καθ' ην μάλιστα τό άγροτικόν εύδοκίμως
εχει - meaning "the peasants have great admiration" (my own translation).
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Cahit Mete Oguz

45 Alicia Simpson, Niketas Choniates: Α Historiographical Study (Oxford: OUP, 2013), 164.
46 Choniates,Historia, 332; Choniates, Annals, 183.
47 The first episode, narrated by Skylitzes, dates from the reign of either Theophilos (r. 829-842) or
Michael ΠΙ (r. 842-867), and concerns a figure commonly known as Leo the Mathematician, who was
the archbishop of Thessaloniki and also a prorninent philosopher. Leo was a tremendously learned
scholarly person, whom Skylitzes descήbes as having mastered all acadernic disciplines. It is through
this scholarly interaction channel that Skylitzes explains how Leo helped out the farrning populace. We
are told that Leo, analysing the stars (Ιiστρον), gave accurate predictions to the peasantry about when to
plant their seeds (σπέρματα) and reap them, as they were suffeήng from a terrible farnine. Skylitzes,
Synopsis Historiarum, 104; Skylitzes, Synopsis, 105. Skylitzes' narrative features four pages (101-5) in
which he descήbes Leo the Mathematician. This is quite a long digression, showing Skylitzes' ad
miration and respect for the man.
48 Psellos, 6.175.
49 Dalby, Geoponika, 53.
50 Vita Basilii, 116. This is the exact text from book 30, lines 14-6; "καί τό μή καταδυναστεύεσθαι ύπό
των πλουτούντων τούς πένητας, μηδέ άδίκως ζημίςι τινά ύποβάλλεσθαι, άλλα ρύεσθαι πένητα καί
πτωχόν έκ χειρός στερεωτέρων αύτοϋ."
51 Vita Basilii, 119. This is the exact text from Book 30, lines 27-9; "καί τα άσθενη πρό τούτου των
πενήτων μέλη έρρώννυτο δια τό άδεως εκαστον την οίκείαν βωλον έργάζεσθαι καί τόν ίδιον
άμπελωνα καρποϋςθαι."
54 Angeliki Laiou, "Law, Justice, and the Byzantine Historians: Ninth to Twelfth Centuries," in Law and
Society in Byzantium, eds. Α. Laiou and D. Simon (Washington D.C.: DO, 1994), 155. Such concerns
appear to echo the imperial struggle of this peήod with trying to curtail the encroachment of large
private landowners over small peasant property across the countryside-an issue illustrated by the
numerous successive property laws promulgated throughout the tenth century.
55 Denis Sullivan, The Rise and Fall of Nikephoros ΙΙ Phokas (Leiden: Bήll, 2018), 24-5.
56 Choniates, Historia, 326; Choniates, Annals, 179: 'Όί έν βρώσει Ιiρτου τόν ύποπίπτοντα λεών
κατεσθίοντες."
59 Attaleiates, TheHistory, 112-3 (Bekker, 61-2).
60 Psellos, 7.60. For the English translation of this part, see Psellos, Fourteen Byzantine Rulers, 311-2.
Psellos' view oflsaac Komnenos appears to be quite positive in general. He descήbes Isaac as trying to
correct the errors of previous emperors who had all exhausted the impeήal treasury οη their personal
expenses.
61 Attaleiates, TheHistory, 138-9 (Bekker, 76).
62 SynopsisHistoriarum, 278; Skylitzes, Synopsis, 266.
63 Up to date inforrnation οη the phoundax and Rhaidestos can be found in Dirnitris Κrallis' recent
monograph οη Michael Attaleiates: Dimitris Κrallis, Serving Byzantium's Emperors: The Courtly Life and
Career of Michael Attaleiates (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2019), 111-2. For further information οη
the phoundax, see Paul Magdalino, "The Grain Supply of Constantinople, Ninth-Twelfth Centuήes,"
in Constantinople and itsHinterland, eds. C. Mango and G. Dagron (London: Aldershot, 1995), 40-2;
Paul Stephenson, Byzantium's Balkan Frontier: Α Political Study of the Northern Balkans, 900-1204
(Cambridge: CUP, 2004), 99-100.
64 Attaleiates, TheHistory, 370-3 (Bekker, 201-2).
65 Magdalino, "Grain Supply," 41-2.
66 Krallis, Serving Byzantium's Emperors, 112.
67 For a detailed discussion οη the authorship of Skylitzes Continuatus, see Eric McGeer, The Continuation
of the Chronicle of ]ohn Skylitzes (Leiden: Brill 2020), 8-9. Here McGeer concludes that it is most
definitely Skylitzes himself who extended his chronicle to the late-eleventh century.
68 McGeer, Continuation, 146-7.
298
69 McGeer, Continuation, 146. The greek text reads: "Τόν γαρ Μιχαήλ είπών τις, εί μή προσθείη καi τόν
Παραπινάκιον, ούκ αν θείτο συντόμως γνώριμον τόν δηλούμενον, δια τό τηνικαυτα τόν μόδιον παρά
πινάκιον πιπράσκεσθαι του νομίσματος."
70 McGeer, Continuation, 147. The issue is mentioned in footnote 193 οη this page, where McGeer is
alluding to John Zonaras' Chronicle section XVIII.16.35.
71 The title Kouropalates, literally meaning "the one in charge of the palace" from the Latin cura palatii, was
granted to Leo Phokas as a title when his brother Nikephoros ΙΙ Phokas ascended the throne in 936.
Under his brother's reign, Leo assumed the post of logothetes tou dromou, becoming the chief minister of
the empire. Ρήοr to 963, both Leo and Nikephoros were prominent generals, with many feats οη the
Eastern frontier duήng the mid-tenth century.
73 This is the viewpoint in the overwhelming majority of cases. Some exceptions do exist though. Most
notable is Skylitzes's cήticism of the allelengyon tax introduced by Basil ΙΙ, which decreed that the
"powerful" (dynatoi) were from then οη obliged to pay the taxes of villagers who had defaulted, died,
or fled. Basil ΙΙ was trying to thwart the efforts of great landowners, who were attempting to evade the
many fiscal responsibilities that traditional village communities were held responsible for. This led to
protest from great landowners, pήmaήly the church itself, which eventually pressured Romanos ΠΙ to
abolish this measure. The specific passage from the Synopsis reads: " ... τάς των άπολωλότων ταπεινών
συντελείας τελεισqαι παρά των δυνατών," (Synopsis Historiarum, 347). This can be translated as; "the
taxes of dead lowborns (are) to be paid by the powerful" (my own translation). Skylitzes' negative
portrayal of this new tax clearly did not have the best interests of the peasantry in mind.
74 Synopsis Historiarum, 404; Skylitzes, Synopsis, 381. Incidentally, the aerikon tax is known to have existed
as far back as the sixth century as Prokopios also alludes to it in his wήtings. Though in this case,
narrated by Skylitzes, concerning the eleventh century, it appears to have been increased significandy,
and that is what Skylitzes is addressing.
76 Choniates, Historia, 204. 'Τό δ' ouv των δασμών έπιτεταμένον ούδ' αυτός ώς μετεδίωκεν
άποκρύψομαι. άλλ' ούδ' ότι αί άρχαί δημοσιώναις προυβέ Ι βληντο, παραδράμοιμι, ώσπερ καί τό
ποθεί'ν νεώματα εν άρούραις και τω εαυτού άρότρω διασχίζειν αύλακας, έξ ών αύτω άδρομεγέθης
άνέβλαστεν άσταχυς."
77 Synopsis Historiarum, 274-5; Skylitzes, Synopsis, 262. Interestingly, Skylitzes's narrative of Nikephoros
ΙΙ Phokas appears highly contradictory in itself due to containing both great praise and cήticism in a
few pages of text. It has been argued that this is due to Skylitzes utilizing two sources, one hostile and
one favorable towards Nikephoros ΙΙ. For more information οη this issue, see Jakov Ljubarskij,
"Nikephoros Phokas in Byzantine Historical Writings," Byzantinoslavica 54 (1993): 252-3.
79 Attaleiates, Historia, 140-1 (Bekker, 77).
80 McGeer, Land Legislation, 55.
81 Κlaus-Peter Matschke, "Commerce, Trade, Markets and Money, Thirteenth-Fifteenth Centuήes," in
The Economic History of Byzantium, ed. Α. Laiou (Washington D.C.: DO, 2007), 806.
82 For more information οη "The Taktika," see G. Τ. Dennis, The Taktika of Leo VI: Text, Translation,
and Commentary (Washington, D.C.: Dumbarton Oaks, 2010). For more information οη 'Όη
Skirmishing," see G. Τ. Dennis, Three Byzantine Treatises: Text, Translation and Notes (Washington
DC.: DO, 1985).
84 Sullivan, Nikephoros ΙΙ Phokas, 143.
299
17
POLITICAL POWER, SPACE, AND
IDENTITIES ΙΝ ΤΗΕ STATE OF
EPIROS (1205-1318)
Ioannis Smarnakis
This chapter aims at exploήng the inteπelation between political power, space, and identities in
the state of Epiros during its own "long thirteenth century," and thus contήbuting to the
relevant broader, ongoing debate in the field ofByzantine studies. The multiple identities of the
Byzantines and their mutations in relation to the changing political, social and cultural context
1
of the empire's life have been explored in several recent studies. However, in my view, the
modern literature οη the subject often pays too much attention to ethnic or even "national"
criteήa when it approaches the Byzantine discourses about "us" and 'Όthers."2 The rough
projection of ethnic differences, a fundamental characteήstic of nation-states, into the medieval
past, ήsks imposing modern ways of perceiving identity and otherness οη people with totally
different mental hoήzons. After all, the Byzantine state was not a well-structured bureaucratic
machine like the nation-states of modernity, which intervene extensively in the everyday life of
their subjects with the aim of producing stable and coherent national identities. Although, even
in the Palaiologan peήod, the Byzantine state maintained a much more sophisticated adrnin
istrative apparatus compared to most of the European states of the era, the main goals of the
central government were to ensure military control over its teπitoήes, to collect taxes fi-om the
provinces and to administer justice. Ιη the context of the highly politically fi-agmented and fluid
new world that emerged after 1204, the allegiance of local landlords, powerful bishops, and
civic communities was essential for Byzantium's rulers to maintain successful control over their
teπitories and to gather taxes fi-om their subjects.3 Ιη this respect, political discourses and
practices related to the construction of the "Self " and the 'Όther" with the pήmary aim of
forging the identity-and thus attempting to ensure the loyalty-of local elites whose role was
crucial for the rulers in the effective governance of their domains.4
The inteπelation between space and identities is another somewhat neglected topic in recent
scholarship. Duήng the last few decades, the concept of "space" has been extensively used in
the social sciences, and particularly in history, as an analytical category. Ιη the relevant studies,
space is ηο longer perceived as merely the product of natural procedures or human activities, a
pre-deteπnined entity that simply provides the background of political, social, and economic
life but as a dynamic field always in a process of transformation through social relations tightly
bound up with the forces of production, the social division of labour, technology, knowledge,
the state and the microstructures of society.5 Ιη this context the production of knowledge about
space, specific codes of social/spatial conduct, the expeήences, thoughts, and feelings of the
300 DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-20

Political Power in the State of Epiros
subjects that move in, inhabit, appropήate, or even imagine space are all interconnected with
perceptions of the "Self " and the 'Όther."
The study of the so-called "despotate" of Epiros offers a somewhat different perspective οη
the mechanisms of state-building and the production of new political identities afi:er 1204. As
has already been noted in the late twelfth century the whole area west of the Vardar ήνer was
very much a large fi:-ontier zone between the Byzantines, the Bulgaήans, the Serbs, and the
Normans of Sicily.6 Duήng the first half of the thirteenth century the same region became a
field of perpetual conflicts and rapid changes of authoήty between the Latin Empire, Epiros,
Bulgaήa, and Nicaea. Ιη terms of physical geography, the region consists of high mountains,
steep valleys, and, with the exception of Thessaly, naπow coastal plains, while the local po
pulation was a mixture ofByzantine Romans, Albanians, Slavs, and Vlachs. Geopolitically, the
region was certainly very different fi:-om both western Asia Minor and the Pontus, where the
two other successor states of the Byzantine Empire were founded. Ιη the East, Theodore
Laskaήs and Alexios Komnenos, respectively, almost imrnediately proclaimed themselves em
perors and organised a system of impeήal governance "in exile." Ιη contrast, in Epiros the
formal ideology of the state expressed through the tides and symbols of its rulers, was constantly
in the process of adapting itself to changes occuπing in the fluid socio-political situation in the
western Balkans duήng the thirteenth century. Michael I Komnenos Doukas ruled without
beaήng any title while his successor Theodore was crowned emperor only in 1227 after having
conquered the"second city of the empire," Thessaloniki. The collapse of his short-lived empire
led to new changes. Theodore was succeeded in Epiros by Michael 11, who bore the title of
"despot," a designation which was subsequently held by his successors in the region.7
Α close connection with the impeήal political culture was, however, maintained through the
use of similar concepts and practices. The Byzantine background of the official rhetoήc in
Epiros has been thoroughly analysed in the relevant modern studies.8 Theodore was considered
to be a ruler who had been appointed by God; 9 among his pήncipal duties was the protection
and the welfare of the Orthodox Church.10 He was presented as the saviour, with God's help,
of both the Roman cities and the Orthodox bishopήcs fi:-om the "flagitious" Latins. His rule
was a divine reward since he had proved his excellent worth through his victoήes.11 The role of
the king was also to look after the "comrnon good" and in this respect he had the ήght to
punish and even kill the criminals that threatened the well-being of his subjects.12 Along with
the ήght of conquest, a scheme of hereditary succession of the former Byzantine emperors
justified the rule of the Doukas family over the region. Theodore, in particular, in his official
documents consistently emphasised his kinship with Alexios 1 (1081-1118), the founder of the
Komnenos dynasty.13
The court life in Thessaloniki and later in Arta imitated the traditionalByzantine paradigm as
the scant references in the sources to the titles of the state's officials indicate. The administrative
system was initially based οη the institution of the themata, where members of the ruling dynasty
and the local powerful aristocratic families exercised both military and civil power.14 The new
religious monuments of Arta followed analogous Constantinopolitan models.15 Οη the other
hand, the allegiance of local archσntes was fi:-equently declared through "feudal" oaths that
emphasised their personal bonds with the ruling dynasty. Moreover, in the context of the state's
foreign relations with the Latins, the language of"feudal" government was extensively used as it
provided a paradigm of governance familiar to the western powers that dominated the southern
Balkans and the Aegean Sea in the thirteenth century.16
Α special feature of political life in the state of Epiros in its early days was the dynamic
interference in politics by local bishops, who acted not only as mediators between the rulers and
their flocks but also as spokesmen or even leaders of whole urban communities.17 This political
301
Ioannis Smarnakis
role of the bishop was not a novelty of the thirteenth century but first appeared in the late
Komnenian system of govemance where several bishops had acted in this fashion.18 The rise of
prominent local high pήests and archσntes in the provinces was associated both with the eco
nomic and demographic growth in the Balkans fi:-om the eleventh century onwards and the
gradually increasing weakness of the central authoήty in the last decades of the twelfi:h cen
tury.19 Ιη a similar manner afi:er 1204, John Apokaukos in Naupaktos, George Bardanes in
Corfu, and especially Demetήos Chomatianos in Ohήd regulated many aspects of local ev
eryday life in their episcopal courts, acted as leaders of their towns in times of peήl and pro
duced a corpus of legal documents and letters which constitute the pήmary source of our
knowledge of the region in the first half of the thirteenth century.
Through their wήtings and actions, these three bishops actively supported the rulers' efforts
in Epiros to establish their power in the Balkans, despite some transient tensions in their re
lations with the local secular authoήties. Having been educated in Constantinople, they were all
highly qualified and entirely familiar with the rhetoήc and ήtuals of impeήal rule. However,
apart fi:-om supporting the political goals of the Doukas dynasty, they sometimes formulated
their own agenda to strengthen their position in the new system of power in Epiros, especially
with regard to their relationships as bishops with the people in the cities under their charge.
Α description ofNaupaktos in a letter by John Apokaukos addressed to the metropolitan of
Thessaloniki vividly illustrates this new relationship between the cities and the episcopal
power.20 The author begins his account by emphasising the high quality of marble in com
paήson with the stone. The former is totally white and circular with a hole exactly at its centre
while the latter is heavy, thick, and hard to hold.21 Then Apokaukos takes an imagined walk in
Naupaktos starting from the episcopal palace. He describes a totally milky-white building
constructed entirely from marble that looks like a small palace.22 He continues with a reference
to the adjoining cathedral and its yard, which is also paved with marble. The author makes
rather lengthy comments οη the practical details of the cathedral's proximity to the episcopal
residence, which facilitates the bishop's communication with his flock.23
The depiction of the rest of the city is characteήsed by the vivid use of the colour white. The
open spaces between the houses and the shady uphill streets that climbed above the sea were all
paved with marble.24 Apokaukos completes his walk in the lower city with a descήption of the
public bath, which is a magnificent sight and in fact transcends the world of the senses. It is
colourful, full of light thanks to its big glass windows, and constructed entirely of marble with
totally white vats, a place that gives pleasure to anyone taking a bath there.25 Then the author
goes οη with a description of the acropolis at the top of the city. The site is depicted as a mighty
and impregnable fortress that seems to be hoveήng in the air like the ancient Nephelσcσccygia. 26
Apokaukos concludes his account with a rather long passage about the positive effects οη the
everyday life of the local citizens brought about by the absence of dirt roads and the existence of
spήngs which provided abundant fi:-eshwater.27
This naπative representation of the urban space aims at promoting a utopian image of
Naupaktos; the city is depicted as an artifact carved almost according to the will of the local
ecclesiastical authority. This is implied fi:-om the beginning through the comparison between
marble, which is presented throughout the naπative as an essential and constitutive element of
urban space, and stone. The first urban landmark is the episcopal palace, which is constructed
entirely of marble, and the adjoining cathedral, both of which are closely associated with the
symbols of puήty and knowledge, the colour white and milk. The author then sketchily de
scήbes the rest of the city as an ideal place of beauty and order that ensures the well-being of its
citizens. He emphasises the bold presence of a puήfying white colour that seems to be diffused
throughout the urban space by the episcopal power. The second point of reference is the
302
marble public bath which, is presented as a place that almost transcends the earthly world with
its incomparable beauty. Being a symbol of water and its implied purifying power, the bath
completes the picture of an ideal and pure city. Furthennore, the author strongly highlights the
vital role of the water in the everyday life of the citizens at the end of his naπation. The final
reference to the mighty fortress at the top that almost lies in the sky conveys the strong im
pression that the whole city lies close to the heavenly sphere. Moreover, the compaήson with
Nephelococcygia, 28 a utopian city built by the birds in between the worlds of the gods and the
humans, generates a powerful symbolic image of the bishop's ability to transfonn his city and
elevate its status above all human expectations.
Οη a political level, Apokaukos's "white city" creates an urban identity closely linked to the
episcopal power by attempting to guide the way in which the local people should expeήence,
perceive, or even imagine the local urban space. It is worth noting that the letter was wήtten
shortly afi:er the reconciliation in 1226-1227 between Apokaukos and Theodore's brother,
Constantine Doukas, who was at that time the governor of Aitolia and Akarnania. The two
men came into conflict with each other initially over the taxation of the Church in Naupaktos.
At some point, Constantine Doukas even occupied the episcopal palace, converted it into a
market, and distήbuted the ecclesiastical estates to his soldiers. He also transfeπed cleήcs fi:-om
other regions-among them the bishop of Zeitounion-to replace the local clergy, who ap
parently supported Apokaukos.29 This fierce clash ended with Theodore's intervention, in
which he officially confinned the estates of the Church of Naupaktos and granted to them
extensive fiscal pήvileges.30 The utopian image of Naupaktos fonned by the diffusion of the
episcopal power throughout its urban space was created in the afi:ennath of Apokaukos's vic
tory. Ιη this respect it epitomised a political development that took place at this time: the
symbolisms and the cultural meanings of urban space were sometimes constructed through the
political strategies of the local ecclesiastical authorities, a reality that the secular power had to
seήously consider.
Apart from actively engaging in the forging of urban identities closely connected with their
episcopal power, the bishops in Epiros fonnulated a discourse about space that had broader
political implications. They used a pre-existing geographical language of the East and West, in
which Constantinople was the focal point of reference, in order to claim autonomy for their
bishopήcs fi:-om the patήarchate in Nicaea. The role of Constantinople was crucial in the
imagined geographies of the empire. Being the seat of both the imperial and the ecclesiastical
authorities, it represented the global centre of power, according to the Byzantine perceptions of
the world. Moreover, its central geographical position in between Asia and Europe, 'Έast" and
"West," led Byzantine intellectuals, from as early as the fourth century, to liken it to the "eye"
of the oikoumene, a concept that implied a hierarchical relationship between the city and the rest
of the civilised world. 31
These terήtoήal concepts of'Έast" and the "West" were used by the Church in Epiros afi:er
1204 in the context of a discourse that initially served its own interests in the struggle against the
patήarchate. Demetrios Chomatianos specifically argued that the ecclesiastical power had been
fragmented and diffused after the "foπnidable attack by the Italians against the land of the
Romans"; hence, in the western part of the fonner empire a synod of the local bishops had to
decide οη ecclesiastical matters.32 The bishops of Epirus frequently called themselves "the
western high pήests" or "the western society of archbishops"33 and descήbed the terήtoήes of
the state of Epiros as "western."34 Οη the other hand, the bishops and the Church of Nicaea
were defined as "eastern"35 and the same tenn was used for the lands of their state.36
It is worth noting that the same geographical language was used immediately afi:er 1204 by
contemporary writers to define the rule of Theodore Ι Laskaήs (r. 1208-1221) in Nicaea.
303
Ioannis Smarnakis
Michael Choniates calls him "king of the East"; 37 and his brother Niketas refers to him as "the
ruler of the eastern Roman terήtoήes."38 However, these spatial definitions of his authoήty
mainly coπesponded to the situation immediately afi:er 1204 when Constantinople was under
Latin control and Theodore Ι Laskaήs ruled the eastern provinces of the former Byzantine
Empire. They did not have any long-term consequences as in subsequent years the political
identity ofNicaea was never associated in a systematic way with an eastern Roman world. After
all, its official ideology was fiπnly grounded in the Byzantine impeήal paradigm that did not
leave any room for the emergence of local political and spatial identities.39 The only partial
exception was Theodore ΙΙ Laskaris (r. 1254-1258), who regarded his domains in Asia Minor as
an "eastern" paradise, a land with sacred annotations in the context of an Anatolian patήotism
which, however, was in perfect keeping with the imperial aspirations ofNicaea.40
Back in Epiros, the spatial discourse which was initially produced in response to the an
tagonism between the Churches of the two successor states of the Byzantine Empire soon
acquired a broader political significance. Duήng the negotiations for the resolution of the bήef
ecclesiastical schism that followed Theodore's coronation by Demetrios Chomatianos in
Thessaloniki, John Apokaukos, in addressing the patήarch οη behalf of the western bishops
explicitly stated: 'Όur own powerful king is unwilling to accept the ordination of high pήests
from the East in the vacant western episcopal seats."41 The Church of Epiros was willing to
recognise the patriarch's spiήtual authority but not his ήght to appoint bishops in its terήtoήes.
Ιη the same letter, the metropolitan of Naupaktos even stated that his powerful ruler could
submit his kingdom's Church to the authoήty of the pope if the patήarch insisted οη interfeήng
in western ecclesiastical matters.42 This statement was made by a strongly anti-Latin high pήest
who even consulted his ruler not to employ Latins in offices where they were expected to have
Romans under their command. Ιη his words, the Latins were incapable of changing their anti
Roman nature, just as lions and leopards were incapable of losing their beastly and ferocious
behaviour even if they were tamed.43 However, it seems that in the context of the political and
ecclesiastical ήvalry withNicaea almost every action that prevented the latter's infiltration in the
Balkans could be justified.
This perception of a western Church subject to the secular authoήty of Epiros was a short
lived innovation in the Balkans that came to an end with the resolution of the schism in 1233.
However, its political and spatial repercussions remained strong in the years that followed. After
the swift collapse of the Empire of Thessaloniki, the despots of Epiros sometimes defined their
power in spatial terms with reference to a western Roman world. The term δυσμοκράτωρ
(ruler of the West) was inscήbed οη Nikephoros's sarcophagus in the church of the Vlachernai
near Arta; 44 and the title σκητπροκρατοi5ντες των δυτικών φρουρίων (the holders of the sceptres
of the western castles) was used byNikephoros and his wife Anna in the founding inscription of
the "red church" at Voulgareli.45 At the beginning of the fourteenth century George
Pachymeres consistently used the terms "western despot" and "despot of the West" for Michael
ΙΙ.46 It seems that even after the fall of the Doukas's dominion a local tradition of considering
Epiros as the "West" survived for some time. Ιη 1347 Stefan Dusan, who had recently con
quered the region, signed a chrysobull for the monastery of the Great Lavra οη Mount Athos as
"Emperor of the Serbs, the Romans and the despotate of the western lands."47
Duήng the first decades of the thirteenth century, the activities of the local ecclesiastical and
political elite in Epiros gradually forged a "western" identity with rather strong spatial refer
ences. This identity served mainly the interests of both the despots and the local bishops in their
antagonism with Nicaea. Their new concept of the West was somewhat fluid and broadly
defined in the context of the political opposition to an East where oήginally Nicaea and, after
1261, Constantinople were the focal points. It was never systematically associated with the
304
symbols, titles, and ήtuals of the secular authoήty, nor did it lead to the identification of the
despots' power with a terήtoήal dominion with stήctly fixed borders. Moreover, the state of
Epiros did not produce any histoήcal work of its own that survives, so the further elaboration
and diffusion of a discourse about the local identity were never undertaken.
However, οη the opposite side, the official discourse in the era of Michael VIII Palaiologos,
in the context of his fierce clash with Epiros, deepened the differences with the West. Ιη his
histoήcal naπative, George Akropolites systematically constructs a stereotypical image of the
"westemers" which represents the contrasting other of the Romans. As has ofi:en been noted in
the recent literature, identities are representations of the "self'' which are constructed through
and not outside difference. This means that it is only through its relation to the 'Όther," to what
has been called its "constitutive outside," that the "positive" meaning of any term-and thus its
identity-can be constructed. 48 Akropolites's history was wήtten in a climate of euphoria afi:er
the reconquest of Constantinople (1261); thus, the author strongly emphasises the political
aspects of Romanness. He inteπelates the Roman identity with the impeήal power and the
army who played a vital role in the recσnquista of the lostByzantine terήtories in theBalkans. He
seeks to justify the impeήal claims of Nicaea and he presents the state of Epiros as its pήme
political enemy in the region.49
Throughout Akropolites's account, Theodore Doukas is considered a usurper who had ηο
ήght to claim the impeήal title. The naπation of the latter's ήse to the throne is illustrative of
the author's strategy to construct a negative image of Nicaea's main political opponent.
According to the author, Theodore was not satisfied with his proper place, but usurped the
royal power afi:er conqueήng Thessaloniki and several Roman lands that had been previously
captured by the Latins and theBulgaήans. He donned the purple and put οη red sandals despite
the strong objections of Thessaloniki's metropolitan, Constantine Mesopotamites, who sup
ported the normal customs; due to this stance, the metropolitan was later exiled and subjected
to several hardships. The archbishop ofBulgaria Demetήos (Chomatianos) eventually crowned
him emperor. Chomatianos thought that he could anoint kings whenever and wherever he
wanted to, as he considered himself independent and not obliged to give an account of his
actions to anyone. 50 After being proclaimed king, Theodore appointed despots, sebastokratores,
megaloi domestikoi, protovestiarioi, and all the rest of the imperial hierarchy. But being ignorant of
the institutions of the royal office and unfamiliar with the impeήal order, the established tra
dition, and the ancient customs of the kingdom, he acted in a more Bulgarian, or rather more
barbarous, way.51 Akropolites presents Theodore as a barbaήan and ignorant Bulgar-like
usurper who had ηο connection with theByzantine political culture. It is worth noting that he
uses the concept of culture in a mainly political sense as the latter is associated with the es
tablished tradition, the customs, and the courtly order of imperial rule. Ιη this way the author
outlines an infeήor "uncivilised westem" way of goveming which grossly attempts to imitate
the "superior" Roman impeήal political system.
The same argument is used for the people of Epiros, who are not considered Romans.
Akropolites uses the terms, "the Michael's/Theodore's people," or even "those who oppose
our rule" to refer to the Epirots.52 Their lands are consistently called "westem" throughout
the whole narration, in accordance with the terminology of the geographical and political
language of the era. 53 The account of the capture in 1259 of Deavolis, a town located south of
lake Ohrid, by the army of the sebastocrator John Palaiologos is illustrative of the elaborate
mechanisms used by the author to create the othemess of the "westem" people:
When the sebastokrator had aπanged affairs there well, he hastened to Deavolis and
resolved to bήng the town of Deavolis to terms through the use of mechanical
305
Ioannis Smarnakis
contήvances of every kind. He prescήbed these and set up siege towers and made all
kinds of engines of war and carήed out continuous attacks, choosing to bήng about
the conquest of the town in all kinds of ways. Things turned out according to his plan
for many inside the town were killed; not a few were struck by aπows and wounded;
others showed inertia (for the western genos is by nature inert in regard to defending
towns) and they suπendered this town ofDeavolis to the sebastokratσr. All the terήtory
around these towns, namely Prespa, Pelagonia, Soskos, Molyskos, came under the
authoήty of the Roman forces and was subjected to them. For such are the inhabitants
of the western parts, readily yielding to all potentates. Ιη this way they avoid death and
54
preserve most of their wealth.
The use of the term genσs in the above passage implies that the Epirots had a different ethnic
identity to that of the Romans. Genos was frequently used by the Byzantines in the sense of
farnily, but it could also denote a group of people who the author believed that they shared a
common oήgin.55 Akropolites broadens the gap with Epiros by inventing an ethnic otherness
with distinct cultural traits infeήor to those of the Romans. The "westerners" are presented as an
inert people, indifferent to the attήbutes of their own political authoήty and caήng only for their
fortunes and not for the good of their cities. Through the hierarchical relation to this infeήor
otherness, Romanness is pήmaήly identified by the author with coπesponding implied "positive"
qualities relating to the supposed supeήoήty of its impeήal political and urban culture.
This line of argument in which the "West" was conceived as "the constitutive outside" of
the Roman identity was not, however, used by the Byzantine historians after Akropolites.
Pachymeres employs the term "western" for the people and the rulers ofEpiros but he does not
designate any negative image of them in contrast to his own predominandy political
Romanness. Afi:er all, he wrote in a totally different political context where the various Turkish
ernirates in Asia Minor had replaced the Epirots as the main opponents of the restored empire.
The partition of the remaining lands of the state of Epiros between the Byzantines and
Nicholas Orsini in 1318 and the subsequent political fragmentation of the region that lasted
until the Ottoman conquest gradually rendered obsolete the thirteenth-century discourses
about 'Έast" and "West." Gregoras defines the authoήty of the despots who belonged to the
Doukas dynasty in different terms. The author refers to Michael II as "the despot, the ruler of
Epiros and Thessaly," 56 or more often in relation to his rule over Aetolia and Epiros.57
However, he is constantly called "apostate" 58 for having renounced Roman political authoήty.
Ιη his naπation, the term "western" has lost the strong political connotations that it had in the
thirteenth century and is mainly used with a purely geographical sense with reference to the
Balkan terήtories of the empire.59
Gregoras has left an account of a diplomatic mission he undertook to Skopje, which be
longed to the Serbian Κral at that time. It is worth noting that the area of north-western
Macedonia that once belonged to the despots of Epiros is descήbed by him as a sort of "Wild
West," thus echoing in some way Akropolites's view of the previous century. The author
narrates how he crossed the Strymon ήver along with his men and how they found themselves
in a land deserted due to the raids of bandits.60 There they met a group of guards dressed in
black who appeared in the rniddle of the night "like demonic ghosts." They were lighdy armed,
spoke a Bulgaήan dialect, and escorted them to a nearby village.61 Shortly afterwards Gregoras
and his men moved to Strurnica where they celebrated Easter "in a boήng way and against our
oήginal customs." Although they enjoyed the local festival, the "half barbaήan" speech of the
locals and their melodies that rerninded them of mountain shepherds annoyed them.62 At
Skopje, Gregoras met the Serbian king but he was disappointed by the latter's poor performance
306
in the official ήtuals. He ironically commented that "monkeys act like monkeys and ants like
63
ants." His final quote of an ancient Greek phrase succinctly summaήsed his view of the region
as an "uncivilised" place vastly different from his own "civilised" world: 'Ί consider myself
64
fortunate for being bom Greek and not a barbaήan."
The same indifference to the older political and spatial connotations of the terms 'Έast" and
"West" with regard to the Byzantine world is found in Kantakouzenos's history.
Kantakouzenos was farniliar with the region ofEpiros as he had participated in Andronikos III's
(ruled 1328-1341) campaign that led in 1337 to a short-lived occupation of the whole country
65
by the Byzantines. Ιη his histoήcal naπative, he often used the term "western" in a strictly
geographical sense in relation to the Balkan teπitories and cities of the empire or in regard to
66
Byzantine aπnies conscripted in the European provinces. There are two references in his text
to "westerners," who are "prone to apostacy and (political) innovation," but the author
67
considers them Romans and not a foreign people.
However, the rule over Epiros by members of the Doukas dynasty, who are called
'Άngeloi" by the author, is presented as an apostasy fi:-om the ήghtful authority of the Romans.
Kantakouzenos argues that the Angeloi did not acquire their rule by liberating Akarnania fi:-om
the barbaήans but by usurping the power that the Roman kings had assigned to them in the
region. At that time the Latins had conquered Constantinople, Thrace, and many of the
Macedonian cities while the Roman empire had been forced to move to the East. The Angeloi
appropήated Akarnania and other western provinces since the kings of the Romans could not
pass through the Latin-occupied regions. When afi:er many years the Palaiologoi drove out the
Latins and reunited Asia with Europe the Angeloi still refused to deliver Akarnania. They
fought against the aπnies that were fi:-equently sent against them and allied themselves with the
68
barbaήans who lived around their land.
Kantakouzenos skilfully attempts to deny the Doukas farnily any ήght to Epiros. The family
members are depicted as usurpers who were neither liberators of the country fi:-om the bar
baήans nor descendants of a gloήous royal farnily. Ιη this respect, Kantakouzenos's use of the
surname Angelos instead ofKomnenos that the family itself had adopted is probably indicative.
However, the region is presented by him as a former part of the empire that must be re
integrated and not as an alien land of barbaήc people essentially different fi:-om those in his own
Roman world.
Ιη the following decades, we find some scarce references in sources fi:-om the Balkans to
69
"western" lands and to "easterners" corning from Constantinople. Nevertheless, the spatial
and political identities that were linked with the concepts 'Έast" and "West" did not survive
long afi:er the fall of the Doukas's dominion. Their state in the western Balkans was a quite
innovative political expeήment that distanced itself fi:-om many aspects of the traditional
Byzantine impeήal paradigm. The active involvement in Epiros's political life of a highly
educated ecclesiastical elite in the first half of the thirteenth century led to new discourses about
the spatial self-awareness of local urban communities and of the whole region as a political
entity. However, the restoration of the Byzantine Empire in 1261 afi:er the recovery of the
impeήal metropolis, Constantinople, by the army of Nicaea and the collapse of the state of
Epiros in the first decades of the fourteenth century eventually cut short this innovative de
velopment in the western Balkans.
Notes
1 For an updated overview of the relevant literature see: Κ. Durak and Ι. Jevtic, 'Ίdentity and the Other
in Byzantine Studies: Αη Introduction," in Identity and the Other in Byzantium. Papers from the Fourth
307
Ioannis Smarnakis
International Sevgi Gonul Byzantine Studies Symposium, eds. Koray Durak and Ivana Jevtic (Istanbul:
Vehbi Κοι;: Stavros Niarchos Foundation, 2019), 3-22.
2 Οη the Roman ethnic identity ίη late Byzantium see especially: Gill Page, Being Byzantine. Greek
Identity bifore the Ottomans (Cambridge: CUP, 2008); Yannis Stouraitis, "Reinventing Roman
Ethnicity ίη High and Late Medieval Byzantium," Medieval Worlds 5 (2017): 70-94. Οη the existence
of a supposed Roman national identity ίη Byzantium see, Anthony Kaldellis, Hellenism in Byzantium:
rif
The Transformations of Greek Identity and the Reception the Classical Tradition (Cambridge: CUP, 2007);
and for a somewhat more balanced view, idem, Romanland: Ethnicity and Empire in Byzantium
(Cambridge MU.: The Belknap Press ofHUP, 2019).
3 Ljubomir Maksimovic, The Byzantine Provincial Administration under the Palaiologoi (Amsterdam: Adolf
Μ. Hakkert, 1988) although rather outdated ίη some respects, especially ίη regard to the author's
argument about the "feudal character" ofthe administration and his undervaluation ofthe political role
of the cities, remains the standard work for the decentralised and fragmented system of governance ίη
late Byzantium. For the rise of cities and their complex relations with the central government, see,
Teresa Shawcross, "Mediterranean Encounters before the Rennaissance: Byzantine and Italian Political
Thought Concerning the Rise of Cities," ίη Renaissance Encounters. Greek East and Latin West, eds.
M.S. Brownlee and D.H. Gondicas (Leiden and Boston: Bήll, 2013): 57-93. For the official rhetoric
about effective governing during the Palaiologan peήod which emphasised the judicial and fiscal
operations of the impeήal office see: Dimiter Angelov, Imperial Ideology and Political Thought in
Byzantium, 1204-1330 (Cambήdge: CUP, 2007), 134-55. For the nature of Byzantine governance
and the role of the state see: John Haldon, The State and the Tributary Mode rif Production (London:
Verso, 1993), 109-29, 194-202; idem, "Res Publica Byzantina? State Formation and Issues of Identity
ίη Medieval East Rome," BMGS 40/1 (2016): 4-16.
4 For a relevant example from the Empire ofTrebizond see: Antony Eastmond, "Local Saints, Art, and
Religious Identity ίη the Orthodox World after the Fourth Crusade," Speculum 78 (2003): 707-49,
especially 747-9.
5 The literature οη space ίη social sciences and particularly ίη history is vast. For briefbut comprehensive
overviews ίη relation to the field ofByzantine studies see: Myrto Veikou, "Space ίη Texts and Space as
rif
Text: Α New Approach to Byzantine Spatial Notions," Scandinavian ]ournal Byzantine and Modern
Greek Studies 2 (2016): 143-75, at 144-51; Yannis Smarnakis, "Thessaloniki During the Zealots'
Revolt (1342-1350): Power, Political Violence and the Transforrnation of the Urban Space,"
rif
Scandinavian Journal Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies 4 (2018): 119-47, at 121-4.
6 Paul Magdalino, "Between Romaniae: Thessaly and Epirus ίη the Later Middle Ages," Mediterranean
Historical Review 4/1 (1989): 87-110, at 92.
7 Οη the political history of the region ίη the first half of the thirteenth century see especially: Donald
Μ. Nicol, The Despotate of Epiros, vol. 1 (Oxford: Blackwell, 1957), 24-75, 103-56; and most recently
Brendan Osswald, "L' Epire du treizieme au quinzieme siecle: autonomie et heterogeneite d' une
region balkanique" (PhD diss., University ofToulouse, 2011), 37-101.
8 See esp. Gίinter Prinzing, "Das Kaisertum im Staat νοη Epeiros. Propagierung, Stabilisierung und
Verfall," ίη Πρακτικά Διεθνούς Συμποσίου για το Δεσποτάτο της Ηπείρου (Arta, 27-31 May 1990), ed.
Evangelos Chrysos (Arta: Skoufas, 1992), 17-30; Alkmini Stavήdou - Zafraka, Νίκαια και Ήπειρος
°
τον 13 αιώνα. Ιδεολογική αντιπαράθεση στην προσπάθειά τους να ανακτήσουν την αυτοκρατορία
(Thessaloniki: Vanias, 1991), 119-42, 155-70; eadem, "The Political Ideology ofthe State ofEpiros,"
ίη Urbs Capta. The Fourth Crusade and its Consequences, ed. Α. Laiou (Paήs: Lethieleux, 2005), 311-23;
eadem, "Πολιτική ιδεολογία του κράτους της Ηπείρου," Byzantiaka 31 (2014): 155-78.
9 See for example: Vasilii G. Vasilevskii, 'Έpirotica saeculi ΧΙΙΙ," VV3, ηο. 17 (1896): 272.29-31.
10 Vasilevskii, 'Έpirotica," ηο. 29, 296.10-12.
12 Demetrius Chomatianos, Πονήματα Διάφορα, ed. Gίinter Prinzing (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2002), ηο.
110, 5.63-67, 6.78-80.
13 Vasilevskii, 'Έpirotica," ηο. 29, 296.25-26, 297.20-21; ΜΜ V, 14. John Apokaukos supports the
same view and invokes Theodore's royal οήgίη. Vasilevskii, 'Έpirotica," ηο. 26, 291.34-36. The royal
blood of the Doukas family is also emphasise ίη several inscήptions from Epiros. Cf Leonela Fundic,
"The Artistic Patronage of the Komnenos - Doukas family (1204-1318) ίη the Byzantine state of
Epeiros," Byzantion 86 (2016): 139-69, at 152-3, 164-5, 169.
14 Οη the close link with the Byzantine courtly and administrative tradition see, Donald Μ. Nicol, The
rif
Despotate Epiros, vol. 2 (Cambήdge: CUP, 1984), 217-23; Osswald, "L' Epire," 352-63.
308
15 Leonela Fundic, 'Άrt and Political Ideology in the State ofEpiros During the Reign of the Theodore
Doukas (r.1215-1230)," Byzantina Symmeikta 23 (2013): 217-50.
16 Paήs Gounaήdes, 'Ή φεουδαρχία στο δεσποτάτο της Ηπείρου," in Πρακτικά Διεθνούς Συμποσίου για
το Δεσποτάτο της Ηπείρου (Arta, 27-31 May 1990), ed. Ε. Chrysos (Arta: Skoufas, 1992), 37-45.
17 Michael Angold, Church and Society in Byzantium under the Comneni, 1081-1261 (Cambήdge: CUP,
1995), 213-62; Alkmini Stavridou - Zafraka, "The Relations Between Secular and Religious
Authorities in the State ofEpiros after 1204," in Church and Society in Late Byzantium, ed. D. Angelov
(Kalamazoo: Medieval Institute Publications, 2009), 11-24.
18 Michael Angold, "The Road to 1204: The Byzantine Background to the Fourth Crusade," ]ournal rif
Medieval History 25/3 (1999): 257-78.
19 See esp.: Alan Harvey, Economic Expansion in the Byzantine Empire, 900 - 1200 (Cambήdge: CUP,
1990), 262-8; Paul Magdalino, "The Empire of the Komnenoi (1118-1204)," in The Cambridge
rif
History the Byzantine empire, ed. J. Shepard (Cambήdge: CUP, 2008), 627-63, at 657-63; Judith
Herήn, Margins and Metropolis: Authority Across the Byzantine Empire (Pήnceton: PUP, 2013), 111-29.
For an overview of the studies dealing with the last decades of the twelfth century see: Alicia Simpson,
"Perceptions and Interpretations of the Late Twelfth Century in Modern Historiography," in
Byzantium 1180-1204. 'The Sad Quarter rif
α Century', ed. Α. Simpson (Athens: National Hellenic
Research Foundation, 2015), 13-34.
20 Apokaukos's letters provide vivid images of everyday life in the region duήng the first decades of the
thirteenth century. Cf. Paul Magdalino, "The Literary Perception of Everyday Life in Byzantium.
Some General Considerations and the Case ofJohn Apokaukos," Byzantinoslavica 47 (1987): 28-38 (=
idem, Tradition and Traniformation in Medieval Byzantium, [Aldershot: Vaήorum, 1991], ηο. χ); Vassilis
Katsaros, "Από την καθημερινή ζωή στο 'δεσποτάτο' της Ηπείρου. Η μαρτυρία του μητροπολίτη
Ναυπάκτου Ιωάννη Αποκαύκου," in Η καθημερινή ζωή στο Βυζάντιο. Τομές και συνέχειες στην
ελληνιστική και ρωμαί'κή παράδοση, ed. C. Angelidi (Athens: National Hellenic Research Foundation,
1989): 631-74.
21 Nikos Α. Bees, "Unedierte Schriftstίicke aus der Kanzlei des Johannes Apokaukos des Metropoliten
von Naupaktos (in Aetolien)," Byzantinisch-neugriechische ]ahrbucher 21 (1971-1974): 67.8-11.
22 Bees, 'Άpokaukos," 67.11-12: "καί τό έπισκοπείον δέ τό έμόν ού καταμάρμαρον δλον, ού λευκόν
γάλα, ε'ίποι τις τούτο μή σκώπτης άνήρ, συνεπτυγμένον παλάτιον."
n
23 Bees, 'Άpokaukos," 67.12-32.
25 Bees, 'Άpokaukos," 67.44-48: "τό δέ λουτρόν ήμων ού μετάρσιον; ού την δψιν ελκει του βλέποντος;
ού γραφικοίς ποικίλλεται χρώμασιν; ού φωταγωγοίς ύέλοις καταπεφώτισται; ούχ ήδονήν τφ
λουομένφ έντίθησιν; ού καταμάρμαρον δλον; ού δεξαμεναί διάλευκοι παρ' αύτφ;."
26 Bees, 'Άpokaukos," 67.48-50: "τό φρούριον δέ ήμων ού δυσανάλωτον η μικρού καί άνάλωτον; ούκ
έπί μετεώρου του αέρος έπφκοδόμηται; ού τfi του κωμικού Νεφελοκοκκυγίι;ι παραμιλλαται;."
28 Duήng the eleventh and twelfth centuήes, there was a great interest in Aristophanes's comedies in
Byzantine intellectual circles. Cf. Tomasz Labuk, 'Άήstophanes in the Service of Niketas Choniates -
Gluttony, Drunkenness and Politics in the Χρονική Διήγησις," ]ΟΒ 66 (2016): 127-51.
29 Bees, 'Άpokaukos," ηο. 27, 72-103. Apokaukos even calls Constantine Doukas 'Όur tyrant." Cf. ibid:
ηο. 27, 72.
30 Vasilevskii, 'Έpirotica," ηο. 29, 296.10-299 .16. For the conflict see Angold, Church and Society,
219-20; Stavήdou - Zafraka, "Relations," 18-9.
31 Paul Magdalino, 'Ό οφθαλμός της οικουμένης και ο οφθαλμός της γής. Η Κωνσταντινούπολη ως
οικουμενική πρωτεύουσα," in Το Βυζάντιο ως οικουμένη, ed. Ε. Chrysos (Athens: National Hellenic
Research Foundation, 2005), 107-23; Dimiter Angelov, "Άsia and Europe Commonly Called East
and West': Constantinople and Geographical Imagination in Byzantium," in Imperial Geographies in
Byzantine and Ottoman Space, eds. S. Bazzaz, Υ. Batsaki and D. Angelov (Washington, D.C.: Center for
Hellenic Studies, 2013), 43-68, at 52-8.
32 Chomatianos, Πονήματα, no. 80, 25-9.
33 Vasilevskii, 'Έpirotica," ηο. 26, 288.22; R.-J. Loenertz, "Lettre de Georges Bardanes, metropolite de
Corcyre, au patήarche oecumenique Germain ΙΙ 1226-1227 c.," Epeteris Etaireias Byzantinon Spoudon
33 (1964): 1. 5-6, 285.
34 Vasilevskii, 'Έpirotica," ηο. 15, 265.22; ηο. 24, 285.28; ηο. 26, 289.19, 291.4-5, 14-15, 27.
35 Vasilevskii, 'Έpirotica," ηο. 6, 251.26; ηο. 25, 288.27; ηο. 26, 289.27,30.
309
Ioannis Smarnakis
36 Chomatianos, Πονήματα, no. 110,8; Bees, Apokaukos, ηο. 13, 14.

37 Spyridon Lampros, ed., Μιχαήλ Ακομινάτου του Χωνιάτου: τα σωζόμενα, vol. 2 (Athens: Parnassos,
1879-1880), ηο. 94.1, 136.1.
38 Jan-Louis van Dieten, ed., Nicetae Choniatae orationes et epistulae (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1972), ηο. 13.2-3.
39 Cf. Angelov, Imperial Ideology, 83, 98-102.
40 Dimiter Angelov, The Byzantine Hellene: The Life of Emperor Theodore Laskaris and Byzantium in the
Thirteenth Century (Cambridge: CUP, 2019), 39-40.
41 Vasilevskii, 'Έpirotica," ηο. 26, 289.17-20. Οη the controversy between the two Churches see:
Apostolos Karpozilos, The Ecclesiastical Controversy between the Kingdom of Nicaea and the Principality of
Epiros (1217-1233) (Thessaloniki: Centre for Byzantine Research, 1973).
43 Bees, 'Άpokaukos," ηο. 71, 67-72.
44 Fundic, 'Άrtistic Patronage," 166, ηο. 5.
45 Donald Nicol, "Refugees, Mixed Population and Local Patriotism ίη Epiros and Western Macedonia
after the Fourth Crusade," ίη XVe Congri!s International d' etudes Byzantines. Rapp orts Ι. Histoire (Athens:
Association international des etudes Byzantines, 1976), 3-33, at 30-1 (= idem, Studies in Late Byzantine
History and Prosopography, [London: Variorum, 1986], ηο. 4).
46 Georges Pachymeres, Relations historiques, vol. 1, eds. Albert Failler and Vitalien Laurent (Paris: Les
Belles Lettres, 1984), 5.26; 11.22; 37.13; 59.2; 115.7-8.
47 Nicol, Despotate, vol. 2, 129-30, 221.
rif
48 Stuart Hall, 'Ίntroduction: Who needs Ίdentity,'?" ίη Questions Cultural Identity, eds. S. Hall and Ρ.
Du Gay (London, Thousand Oaks and New Delhi: Sage Publications, 1996), 1-17, at 4-5.
49 Page, Being Byzantine, 99-103; Ruth Macrides, trans., George Akropolites. The History (Oxford: OUP,
2007), 94-97. Akropolites explicitly states that the emperor John Vatatzes considered Theodore and
Michael ΙΙ as the prime enemies of the empire of the Romans after the conquest of Constantinople by
the Latins. Cf. Georgii Acropolitae, Opera, ed. Α. Heisenberg, vol. 1 (Leipzig: Aedibus Β. G.
Teubneή, 1903), 49.17-19.
50 The ideological symbolisms and the ήtual of Theodore's coronation by Demetήos Chomatianos have
been thoroughly analysed ίη the relevant literature (see above, endnotes 8 and 41). Ιη an article which
explores the transfer and imitation of ήtes and ήtual patterns between the thirteenth century Byzantine
states and the Western Empire under Fredeήck ΙΙ (1220-1250), Eleni Tounta highlights
Chomatianos's self-perception who insisted οη having ίη his bishopric the papal prerogative οη
crowning and anointing Roman emperors. See, Eleni Tounta, 'Άutoritat im Kontakt der Kulturen:
Die Darstellung νοη Maj estat ίη Byzanz und Sizilien," ίη Autoritiit und Akzeptanz. Das Reich im Europa
des 13.Jahrhunderts, eds. Η. Seibert, W. Bomm and V. Tίirck (Ostfildern: Thorbecke, 2012), 285-307,
at 290-1.
51 Acropolitae, Opera, vol. 1 & 21.1-22.
52 Acropolitae, Opera, vol. 1 & 14.33, 45.117, 65.41-42, 71.52.
53 Acropolitae, Opera, vol. 1, 26.16, 33.28, 43.2, 54.6, 54.37, 77.38, 85.3.
54 Acropolitae, Opera, vol. 1, 80.44--61. Ι follow Macrides's translation of the passage with some minor
corrections.
55 Οη the term genos and the language of kinship ίη the middle Byzantine era, see: Nathan Leidholm,
Elite Byzantine Kinship, ca. 950-1204: Blood, Reputation, and the Genos (Leeds: ARC Humanity Press,
2019), 37-62.
56 Nicephorus Gregoras, Historiae Byzantinae, vol. 1, eds. Immanuel Bekker and Ludwig Schopen (Βοηη:
Weber, 1829), 110.1.
57 Gregoras, Historiae, vol. 1, 71.10-11; 74.9; 90.11-12; 130.18; 283.8.
58 Gregoras, Historiae, vol. 1, 47.14; 48.13; 56.2; 57.1; 57.11; 83.8.
59 See for example the references to "western" cities: Gregoras, Historiae, vol. 1, 48.11, 14.18; to the
western Roman terήtories: Gregoras, Historiae, vol. 1, 73.13; to the western themata: Gregoras,
Historiae, vol. 1, 301.11. There is only one reference to the "Thessalian and western spear" that implies
the political conflict with a "western" world: Gregoras, Historiae, vol. 1, 83.4-5.
60 Gregoras, Historiae, vol. 1, 375.18-376.7.
63 Gregoras, Historiae, vol. 1, 383.1-2.
64 Gregoras, Historiae, vol. 1, 383.9-10.
310
65 Οη the campaign see: Donald Nicol, The Last Centuries of Byzantium, 1261-1453 (Cambήdge: CUP,
1993), 18(}-1.
66 See for example: Ioannis Cantacuzenus, Historiarum Libri IV, ed. Ludwig Schopen, vol. 1 (Βοηη:
Impensis Ε. Webeή 1828), 24.10; 115.18; 129.14; 209.10; 259.25; 263.7; 276.4; 281.13; 454.23; vol.
2, 81.17; 322.11.
67 Cantacuzenus, Historia, vol. 1, 104.12-14; vol. 3, 113.1-4.
68 Cantacuzenus, Historia, vol. 1, 520.15-521.12.
69 See for example, Maximos Mazaήs,]ourney to Hades: or, Interviews with Dead Men about Certain Officials
of the Imperial Court, eds. J. Baπy, Μ. Share, Α. Smithies and L. Westerink (Buffalo: Department of
Classics, State University of New Υork, 1975), 86.
311
18
"MOSES' ACCOUNT IS SIMPLER,
MORE CONCISE AND MORE
EFFECTIVE": ORTHODOXY,
HERESY, AND COSMOGRAPHIC
IDENTITY ΙΝ ΤΗΕ TWELFTH
AND EARLY THIRTEENTH
CENTURIES
Exiled in the new Empire of Nicaea after the capture of Constantinople by the Crusaders in
1204, the former court official Niketas Choniates (circa 1155/57-1217) penned two important
works. The most famous was a revision of his History (Chronike diegesis), a cήtical account of
Byzantine impeήal policy, and a vivid first-hand descήption of the capture and sack of
Constantinople by the Latins. 1 Ιη writing the History, Choniates was not only trying to un
derstand the new conditions of an Empire now relegated to its uncouth provinces, 2 but also
pondeήng the enormous gulf that separated the Latin colonists fi:-om the Byzantines despite a
shared Chήstian identity. It is likely with this in mind-or in part at least-that Choniates
authored another extensive work, which he called a "collection (sylloge) of almost all opinions
and heresies, and histories of the men who wrote them, with the refutations of some of them, in
particular the most ancient ones and other matters useful to pious people."3 This anthology in
27 books was dedicated to an unnamed fi:-iend and provides a descήption of several heresies,
from Greek mysteήes to the heretical doctήnes of the Latin Church and the dogmatic argu
ments of the Komnenian peήod. Four thirteenth-century manuscήpts preserve the complete
text, attesting to its popularity in orthodox milieus early οη; other manuscήpts fi:-om the same
peήod and up to the seventeenth century reproduce excerpts.4
The prologue of Choniates's theological anthology provides clues about his difficult situa
tion and the intentions behind his work, which he wrote as a destitute refugee in Nicaea.5 Ιη
spite of his poverty, however, he was able to offer to an unnamed fήend a spiήtual gift, one
most useful to "those who do not have many books to enable them to interpret and thus know
about heresies, either because they do not have the leisure to read, or because they are being put
off fi:-om this aim by something else."6 With this opus, therefore, the reader may enjoy a vaήety
312 DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-21

Orthodoxy, Heresy, & Cosmographic Identity
of wήtings so as " to collect for himself a universal remedy (πανάκειαν) appropήate to fighting
destructive opinions."7
Ιη several manuscήpts (and in modern scholarship),Choniates's theological anthology is also
called a Dσgmatic Panσply (Panσplia dogmatike). 8 This appellation directly refeπed to similar
works wήtten decades earlier in the Komnenian period, namely Euthymios Zigabenos's
Dσgmatic Panσply commissioned by Alexios Ι (r. 1081-1118) and Andronikos Kamateros's Sacred
Arsenal dedicated to Manuel Ι (r. 1143-1180).Choniates clearly considered himself to be part of
this heresiological tradition. Ιη his prologue, he explicitly mentions Theodoret's catalogue
(κατάλογον), which may refer either to this fifi:h-century author's Cσmpendium σf Heretical Myths
or to his Cure rif Greek Diseases, and Zigabenos's Panoply, whose section οη ancient heresies he
decided to expand.9 It certainly was understood as a doctήnal aπnoury later, most notably for its
refutation of Latin heresies. 10
Ιη the first Book, among 'Όther matters useful to pious people,"Choniates chose to include
a long digression οη the world. Situated between a discussion of "Pythagoras, Plato and other
philosophers and their doctήnes," andJudaism and Jewish heresies, this section focusses 'Όη the
four elements; οη the heaven and the earth; οη the Zodiac Circle of the fixed stars and the
planets; οη comets, rainbow, hoar-fi:-ost, parhelia (mock suns), earthquakes, winds, and hurή
canes."11 As FerdinandCavallera pointed out, the passage is essentially a compilation of several
sections ofPsellos's De σmnifaria dσctrina and ofChapter 21 ofJohn Damascene's Expositiσfidei
(Exact Expositiσn of the Orthσdox Faith) on the celestial bodies. 12 There are some subtle differ
ences between these sources andChoniates's rendition, as well as between the manuscripts but,
overall, the end result is a solid-albeit elementary-introduction to basic notions of physics,
astronomy, and meteorology, which extols the Mosaic Creation while strongly relying οη
scientific concepts compatible with the faith. Discussing cosmography may seem innocuous; in
truth, beside Cavallera, ηο one has remotely paid attention to this passage. Υet, such an in
clusion is unique in the heresiological tradition and, Ι think, significant, particularly in the
context of a work aimed at defining and strengthening Byzantine orthodox identity in the
difficult times of the Latin takeover.Choniates found cosmography not only useful for someone
with little access to books, but also valuable within a discussion ofChήstian doctήnes.
How Creation was discussed, and how the world was understood and descήbed depended
οη authorial choice. Ιη this respect, Choniates's adoption of specific theoήes and sources are
significant too. His cosmographical introduction must be set in the backdrop of Byzantine
polemics suπounding the layout of the cosmos and the relevance of its study in the twelfth
century. Rooted in the first centuήes ofChristianity, this argument centred οη the permissible
use by orthodoxChristians of a spheήcal view of the world, a theory so openly inheήted fi:-om
(pagan) natural philosophy that it seemed to oppose the Scήptures. The debate found a second
wind in the Komnenian peήod, however, and particularly in the second half of the twelfth
century. It is to these two contexts-Komnenian heresiology and cosmography-that Ι will
turn now.
Heresies and Orthodox Theology ίη the Komnenian Period

Choniates's theological collection and cosmological introduction are better understood in the
context of Komnenian rule when similar heresiological works were wήtten. Ιη the late
eleventh and early-twelfi:h centuήes, a range of heresies and theological debates agitated the
Byzantine Church: Hellenizing philosophers and theologians, Paulicians, Bogomils-all here
tical threats that elicited the personal intervention ofEmperor Alexios Ι Komnenos.13 Whether
real or perceived, these threats had actual consequences. They resulted in new anathemas added
313
to the Synodikon of Orthodoxy, a liturgical work celebrating orthodox doctήnes οη the first
Sunday of Lent (Sunday of Orthodoxy) with its accompanying list of condemned heresies, and
in fi-esh heresiological compilations wήtten under the aegis of Alexios Ι and Manuel Ι. 14 These
attempts at defining, strengthening, and standardizing the true doctήnes of the Byzantines raise
interesting questions regarding what Byzantine Christian orthodoxy and identity entailed (or
should entail) in the Komnenian era. The mere existence of these polemics points to the
presence of a more vaήegated orthodoxy, one that-sometimes-divided, worήed, and fed the
need to clearly define the boundaήes of orthodoxy.15
The tήals of the scholars John Italos in 1082 and Eustratios ofNicaea in 1117 have been well
16
studied. The opinions and teachings of John Italos, a former student of Michael Psellos of
Italian oήgin and later Consul of the Philosophers, came under the scrutiny of the Church
twice, in 1077-1078 and 1082, when some of his philosophical teachings were ultimately
17
condemned. Similarly, Eustratios of Nicaea, Italos's pupil, Alexios's court theologian, and
later a protege of Anna Komnene, was condemned for heresy in 1117 and forced to abdicate
from his bishopήc. 18 Ιη both cases, these condemnations contήbuted additional anathemas to
the Synodikon ι.ifΌrthodoxy. 19
The point is not so much to determine whether these authors held the views they were
accused of or not; what matters here are the doctήnes credited to them which the Synodikon
considered threatening to the faith and the orthodox doctήnes advocated in this document, with
specific regards to Hellenic thought.20 Heretical doctήnes attήbuted to Italos include (1) the
introduction of "new ways of exarnining and teaching" theological doctήnes, notably through
syllogisms (λόγοις διαλεκτικοις); (2) the introduction "in the Orthodox and Catholic Church of
impious Greek doctήnes οη the soul, οη the heaven, the earth, and the rest of Creation;" (5) the
assertion that "the wise among the Greeks, the first heresiarchs, [...] far outweighed pious and
Orthodox men;" (7) the adoption of, the belief in, and the instruction of others in "vain Hellenic
theoήes as if they were legitimate."21 The Greek doctήnes οη the heaven, the earth, and the rest
of Creation under scrutiny in paragraph (2) are specified in paragraphs (4) and (8). More spe
cifically condemned are doctήnes upholding the etemity of the world (4) and the reality of
Platonic Ideas (8).22 The physical model of the world was clearly not at stake here but meta
physical speculation.23 Eustratios's case differs, since his condemnation was overtumed post
humously in 1157, but the oήginal articles of accusation against him have been preserved.24 Two
of them notably condemn the use of dialectics and science when discussing Chήst and the
Incamation.25 Ιη both Italos and Eustratios's cases, therefore, the issues revolved around the
compatibility and permissible use of Hellenic philosophy (understand here metaphysics) in
Chήstian theology.26 We shall see later how such discomfort sometimes extended further, to the
study of the created world itself, but Ι also need to point out here the significance of Choniates's
inclusion, in a heresiological collection, of cosmological defmitions and explanations, some of
them based οη Plato (e.g., the Timaeus) and Aήstotle (e.g., De caelo and the Meteorologica).
Most essential duήng Alexios's reign was the need to quell the expansion of the Bogomil
heresy, whose adherents were growing in Constantinople.27 The emperor's confi-ontation with
the Bogomils, their eventual aπest and condemnation around 1099 are descήbed at length in the
Alexiad. 28 Their doctήne is thoroughly examined in the Dogmatic Panoply, a work commissioned
by Alexios himself fi-om the monk Euthymios Zigabenos, who, according to Anna Komnene,
gained fame in the impeήal circles for his dogmatic expertise. The work was meant to be an
exposition of all heresies with their refutation, based οη doctήnes expounded by the Church
Fathers. According to Anna Komnene, Alexios himself came up with the title of this anthology.29
The prologue and the verses in the preserved presentation copies of the Dogmatic Panoply also
emphasise Alexios's strong involvement in this work and extol the emperor's piety.30 The
314
prologue descήbes the work as a compilation of dogmas of the orthodox faith and explains how
this arsenal of Patήstic doctήnes would arm spiήtual soldiers in their fight against the heresies it
descήbed. These heresies are organised chronologically and range fi-om the most ancient-with
the exception of some that have long disappeared and ηο longer threatened to return-up to the
31
heresies ofthe present times. Among its 28 titles, number VI discusses the divine creation ofthe
visible and invisible worlds and is largely made of excerpts fi-om the works of Gregory of
Nazianzen (especially passages fi-om the Oration on the Birthday rif
Christ 9-12), Gregory ofNyssa
(two passages fi-om the Catechetical Sermon, Chapters 5 and 7) and Maxim the Confessor (parti
cularly the Four Centuries on Love). Taken together, these excerpts exalt the fundamental goodness
32
of God's creating act. Such a focus makes perfect sense in the context of a work wήtten to
33
counteract Bogomilism, a heresy reputed to see the world as the Devil's creation.
34
Theological controversies did not stop with Alexios's reign, of course. Among the im
portant issues were the disputes that resulted fi-om frequent interactions with the Latin and
Armenian Churches. Το this effect, Manuel assembled an important synod in 1166 to resolve
the sense ofJohn 14:28, "The Father is greater than Ι," a verse ultimately interpreted to mean
that the Son's human nature was infeήor to that of the Father. This position alienated those
members of the Byzantine clergy who considered such a reading too servile to a Latin point of
35
view. Ιη the wake of this debate, and in irnitation of his grandfather, Manuel Ι also com
36
rnissioned a Sacred Arsenal fi-om the court official and sebastos Andronikos Kamateros. The
focus of the Sacred Arsenal differed fi-om its predecessor in that it specifically addressed doctήnes
37
ofthe Latin and Armenian Churches. Just like the Dogmatic Panoply, however, it also praised
38
the emperor's orthodoxy and ardent zeal in the fight against heresies. Such an assessment was
not shared by all. Ιη a long passage ofhis Chronicle, Niketas Choniates vociferously censured the
emperor for adheήng to the interpretations of astrologers and for exceeding his authority by
39
dabbling in theological matters about which he was not cognizant.
The increasingly hostile relationship between the Byzantines and the Latins, which culrninated
in the capture of Constantinople and the exile of the Byzantine court in 1204, gave ήse to anti
Latin tracts that aimed at defining orthodox doctήne more clearly. As Tia Kolbaba has shown,
such literature was not aimed at the conversion of the Latins or even addressed to a Latin au
dience. Rather, these works "were addressing compatήots who believed in the orthodoxy of the
40
Latins." At the heart of this polernical literature was a deep lack of confidence, as Byzantine
41
Chήstians faced their own divisions about the true doctήnes of Chήstianity. By firmly estab
lishing orthodox doctrine and refuting past heresies, these works evinced the success of the
42
Byzantine Church in dealing with heterodoxy. Choniates presented his own heresiological
anthology in these terms, as a means to mend divisions: just as physicians hold that "if a man was
43
whole, he would not suffer," the pious Chήstian, "who is affected in his soul (την ψυχήν
παθαινόμενος) by the splits ofheresies" can only converge to one God with one voice and remain
44
indifferent to cuπent events. Ultimately, Choniates's anthology (and universal remedy, or
panacea, to return to his medical metaphor) established a core of true doctrines (orthodoxy) about
45
which Byzantine Chήstians should agree and with which to negotiate with the Latins. What
was a cosmographical introduction meant to achieve in this context, however?
Orthodoxy and Cosmography ίη the Komnenian Period

46
As the prologue indicates, Choniates's work was fundamentally pedagogical. Including an
introduction to cosmography in a section devoted to Hellenic heresies (where Hellenic here
clearly meant pagan and heretical) was meaningful, therefore, precisely because Choniates chose
to discuss these questions by offering an orthodox description ofthe natural world that relied οη
315
acceptable concepts of Hellenic natural philosophy, rather than merely rejecting these ideas
altogether as was traditionally done in such works. Ιη fact, an account of cosmography, or
meteorology for that matter, was not part of the heresiological works discussed above.
For instance, even though Zigabenos bήefly refuted Epicurean atomism in the prologue of
his work, physics was not his pήmary concern when discussing Creation.47 His collection of
excerpts focused instead οη the fundamental goodness of the creative act. Earlier heresiological
works had dealt with Hellenic heresies in more depth, since these issues were more pressing at
the time, but they did not necessaήly consider understanding and explaining nature useful. We
find an interesting example of this in Theodoret of Cyπhus's Cure of Greek Diseases (fifth
century). Besides using a medical terminology that may have inspired Choniates, Theodoret
also offered a brief doxology of Greek cosmological doctήnes that dealt with similar issues:
cosmogony and the first pήnciple(s) of the cosmos, its shape(s), the nature of stars and of the
heavens, the nature and sizes of the sun and the moon, and all their fables (μυθολογούσιν) about
their configurations, eclipses, and distances.48 His verdict differed, however. Because these
philosophers suffered from major disagreements about all these questions, Theodoret concluded
that "what is useless should not be enquired in vain" (τα μηδέν ώφελούντα μή ζήτει μάτην), a
point with which Choniates clearly disagreed, even though his cosmographical introduction
included a bήef excerpt fi:-om Theodoret's short doxography.49
Closer to Choniates's times, the histoήan and canonist John Zonaras (d. after 1159) con
sidered in his History that turning one's attention to contemplate the light of the celestial bodies
was acceptable, but observing their movements for anything else than the reckoning of time
was not.50 His commentary to Canon 36 of the Synod of Laodicea similarly discouraged
members of the clergy from showing excessive cuήosity for the four mathematical disciplines,
although he did not prohibit their study. By the end of the twelfth century, the tone hardened.
Ιη a letter titled "That one ought not to study a mathematical book" (Περί τού μή
άναγινώσκειν βιβλίον μαθηματικόν) addressed to the Metropolitan of Philippopolis, the
Patήarch of Antioch Theodore Balsamon re-interpreted the same canon to prohibit the study of
astronomy.51 The letter addressed the question "whether or not it is profitable to know
whether or not the powers of the celestial bodies and their natures are efficacious." 52
Concerning the four disciplines of the quadήvium, Balsamon deteπnined that the first three
(geometry, arithmetic and music) could be taught.53 Regarding astronomy (understand here
astrology), all patristic commentaήes join Gen. 1.14 in considering that celestial bodies are only
signs of time and seasons.54 Balsamon concluded that possessing mathematical books, or being
taught and teaching the stars were dangerous activities (κινδυνωδες) for a man of the orthodox
faith (όρθόδοξον iiνθρωπον), since they could lead to discussing the nature or power of these
celestial bodies. Ultimately, for Balsamon, "the science of astronomy [was] not only without
utility and reality, but it [was] also impious." 55 Such admonishments clearly stemmed fi:-om the
widespread practice of astrology in the Komnenian peήod, particularly in Manuel's rule, but
they also reveal a seeping anxiety suπounding the intentions of those-particularly members of
the clergy-who studied the structure of the heavens and their movements.56
Υet, descήbing nature and its workings were also encouraged in exegetical works. Ιη the
fourth century, Basil of Caesarea had already stated explicitly that the study of the visible was a
means to contemplate the invisible.57 Α century later, the Antiochene author Severianos of
Gabala berated those who refused to study nature (φυσιολογία), which he considered a
foundation of piety after theology.58 Exegetes who chose to descήbe nature and natural
phenomena did not necessaήly agree οη the sources peπnissible to their study, however. This
hesitation produced two cosmographical worldviews, between which Byzantine authors os
cillated. Several Church Fathers, chiefly among them Basil of Caesarea, Gregory of Νazianzen,
316
and Gregory ofNyssa in the fourth century, as well asJohn Philoponos (sixth century) andJohn
Damascene (eighth century), made open use ofHellenic concepts of natural philosophy in their
descήptions of the created world.Not all elements ofHellenic cosmology were acceptable, but
they generally assumed that the earth was situated in the centre of the universe and that the
world was a succession of spheres carrying the seven planets and the Zodiac, the whole being
surrounded by the firmament. The exact number of the heavens and their relation to the
planetary spheres were among a few questions left unanswered.59 Ιη contrast, John Chrysostom
(fourth century), Seveήanos of Gabala, Theodoret of Cyπhus (fifth century), and-more
famously-Kosmas Indikopleustes in the sixth century considered the Bible to be the ultimate
source in cosmology and cosmography. As a result, they developed a descήption of the world
that found its inspiration fi-om biblical verses.60 The universe was compared to a box, where
heaven was the vault and a flat elongated earth the foundation. Το explain days and nights, this
model postulated that celestial bodies disappeared behind a mountain (Kosmas) or a screen
created by the waters of the firmament (Seveήanos).61
Overall, disagreeing with the model of the world conveniently allowed one to refute pagan
religion and astrology by altogether rejecting the spheήcal worldview of the Greeks. The
ambivalence between these two cosmographical models was in part a reflection of different
exegetical approaches to the Scήptures, often characteήsed as Alexandήan (or allegoήcal) and
Antiochene (or histoήcal and literal).62 The adoption of a spheήcal or box-like worldview was
geographical and cultural as well, as the exponents of the spheήcal model lived in a region
generally more cognizant of the Greek paideia. 63 Ιη contrast, advocates of the box-like universe
lived in a Semitic region where they were more likely to be familiar with ancient Jewish
cosmography, which considered the earth flat and the heaven hemispherical.64
Whether this "cosmographical ambivalence" never quite left the Byzantines is beyond the
scope of this chapter, but evidence points to a rekindling of the debate in the eleventh and
twelfth centuήes, for instance through the catenae to Genesis, which were elaborated and copied
extensively at the time and regularly used in the liturgy. Ιη these chains of biblical commen
taήes, one finds passages fi-om both groups of Church Fathers.65 When placed next to one
another, however, the patήstic excerpts that discussed the world and its shape favour a box-like
universe and dispute two important postulates ofHellenic cosmology, the spheήcal shape of the
world and its revolution, arguing οη the contrary that it was vaulted and immobile.66
These issues were discussed openly duήng the reign of Manuel Komnenos. The monk and
theologian Michael Glykas wrote a carefully argued response to another monk, Gregory
Akropolites, who enjoined him to elucidate "whether the heaven was spheήcal and in constant
motion, or not, according to the divine Chrysostom."67 We do not have Gregory's oήginal
letter, but Glykas's answer indicates that his coπespondent was puzzled by patήstic opinions
about the shape of the world and the revolution of the heavens, which contradicted John
Chrysostom so blatantly and-in all likelihood-the chains of commentaήes to Genesis. Glykas
reminded Gregory that Chrysostom worked and wrote in a different context: so as to uproot all
fables, at a time when heresies were rampant, "very austere words were necessary against those
who said that the heaven was spheήcal and mobile." 68 More compellingly, the biblical verses
that seem to uphold the idea of a vaulted universe may be interpreted differently. Throughout
his letter, Glykas supported his argument with a range of quotations from other Church Fathers,
notably Basil of Caesarea, Gregory of Nazianzen, Gregory of Nyssa, and John Damascene.69
One letter is not much, but it does signal the existence of communities whose knowledge of the
cosmos had been forged by patήstic texts that set them at odds with the intellectual elite. As was
the case in the early centuήes of Chήstianity, it also points to different approaches to Scriptures
and spiήtuality in the Komnenian peήod.70
317
The most elaborate discussion of this problem appears in the wήtings of a certain Peter the
Deacon and Philosopher, a member of the clergy who likely worked in the entourage of
Patήarch Luke Chrysoberges (1157-1169). This obscure figure penned a vitήolic letter re
proving the Patήarch's practice of astrology, as well as an intήguing astronomical treatise that
endorsed a vaulted model of the world.71 Even though he did not fail to remind his readers of
the astrologer's blasphemous work, Peter still considered useful the study of the stars, provided
astronomers focused solely οη seasons, time, and calendars (Gen. 1:14). Learning about the
Creator's creatures and about change were sanctioned activities and enabled one to live piously,
and go beyond perceptible matters to unite them to the intelligible.72 The topics discussed in
this treatise are reminiscent of similar cosmographical introductions, especially Chapters 20 and
21 ofJohn Damascene's Expositio.fidei, one of Peter's likely sources.73 They include the shape
and the movement of the heavens; the shape of the earth; the movement and elongation of
74
the planets, especially the sun; the phases and eclipses of the moon; the calculation of the
horoscope (assimilated here to a calculation of seasonal hours); the seasons and the relative
lengths of nights and days; the nature of darkness; the four elements; the lengths of the solar and
the lunar year; the relative dimensions of the earth and the sun; and the revolution of the
planets.75 Choniates's cosmographical introduction discusses very similar issues, but in different
tern1s.
Peter's oήginality resided in the application of some notions of Greek spheήcal astronomy to
a Biblical, thus orthodox, cubic model of the cosmos.76 For instance, he justified the box-like
shape of the world with the usual range of biblical citations but, unlike the defendants of the
hemispherical model, he did not consider the heavens immobile: the celestial vault carήed along
the stars, while planets travelled through the Zodiac in the opposite direction. Like Kosmas
Indikopleustes, he considered that the inhabited earth was elevated in its northern regions, a
conical shape that had enabled Kosmas to explain days and nights, as the luminaήes-carήed by
angels-disappeared behind the cone. Ιη Peter's treatise, however, the movement of the
heavens (not angels) carήed the celestial bodies, bringing them behind the cone at night like a
spinning top.77 Other notions were clearly boπowed fi-om classical astronomy, but the ex
planations provided are confusing, simplistic, and not applicable to a hemispherical model.78
Υ et, his adoption of some concepts of Hellenic astronomy in a model clearly inspired by the
Bible was a compelling means to reset astronomy οη an orthodox footing at a time when
suspicions arose concerning one's intentions when practicing astronomy.
Not all considered orthodoxy incompatible with Hellenic cosmography, as we have seen in
Michael Glykas's letter to Gregory Akropolites. Ιη fact, Glykas's discussion of the natural world
is even more developed in his Annales, a chronicle of events starting fi-om the creation of the
world until the death of Alexios Ι in 1118. Byzantine chronicles regularly started with the
Creation of the world, as a means to account for the oήgin of Chήstian communities and their
place in a universe beautifully, purposefully, and orderly created by Divine Providence. Ιη the
twelfth century, the chronicles of George Kedrenos, Constantine Manasses, andJohn Zonaras
all start with a brief retelling of the six days of Creation, although, as we have seen, Zonaras
scorned at the cuήosity of the clergy in these matters.79 Glykas's Chronicle stands out, however,
for its extensively long treatment of these six days. The first part of the work turns indeed into a
Hexaemeron that, in the process, tackled important dogmatic issues and showcased the author's
wide-ranging knowledge of patήstic literature. It also provided scientific knowledge οη a
vaήety of topics concerning natural philosophy, including cosmology and cosmography (the
spheήcal model of the world, the nature, and number of heavens), astronomy (the nature and
size of celestial bodies, eclipses), meteorology (earthquakes, winds, hurήcanes, thern1al waters,
seas and ήvers, rainbows, haloes, thunder), botany, and animals.80 Glykas made extensive use of
318
0rthodoxy, Heresy, & Cosmographic Identity
patήstic sources in all these scientific explanations, which are also tied to moral and theological
81
issues. Unlike traditional commentaήes οη the book of Genesis, Glykas relied οη profane
sources that included the meteorological sections of Michael Psellos's De omnifaria doctrina and
zoological information from the Physiologus, Claudius Aelianus's On the Nature ofAnimals (circa
82
170-circa 235), and Theophylaktos Simokattes's Physical Questions (b. late sixth century).
83
Through these works, Glykas did not hesitate to credit Aήstotle's authoήty. Nevertheless, he
was not uncήtical of Greek philosophers. He notably deήded those who vainly offered a myήad
of foolish theoήes οη the nature of the stars, in a passage he adapted fi:-om Theodoret's Cure of
Greek Diseases that is abήdged in Choniates's anthology. 84 He dedicated the Annales to his son,
but they reached a larger public who recognised the didactic value of his Hexaemeron, since this
85
section circulated independently as early as the thirteenth century.
Just like Glykas, Choniates considered that some knowledge of the natural world was integral
to the education of orthodox Chήstians and to their understanding of the world and their place in
the world. Ιη Book Ι of Choniates's anthology, the cosmographical section is introduced after a
rejection of Epicurean cosmology, common to other heresiological texts, where Choniates fol
lowed closely Epiphanios's Cure rif
Greek Diseases and, to a lesser extent, Zigabenos's Dogmatic
Panoply. 86 Choniates, then, engaged in a discussion about cosmogony and the fabήc of the world.
Ιη contrast to outside philosophers who have gready argued about this subject, "Moses' account
points to a simpler, more concise, and more effective creation," when he says, "in the beginning,
87
God created the heaven and the earth" (Gen. 1:1). Ιη this way, Moses descήbed all that came
into being in heaven and οη earth after and concornitantly. Ιη other words, matter did not pre
88
exist the moment of God's Creation. But, Choniates conceded, the pήnciples of matter and
form were not revealed to external philosophers who worked solely οη the basis of their senses
89
and own speculations. Glykas had sirnilarly rerninded his readers that "the Hellenes were not at
all initiated in Mosaic history," an overall civil concession in sharp contrast with the vehement
90
assessments of early Chήstian exegetes. That Moses explained the cosmogonic mystery better
than 'Όutside philosophers" is rerninded again, in discussions of the substance of the cosmos (not
one of the four elements or ether, but an immateήal pήnciple), and of the stars (not as light per se
91
but as receptacles of the created light).
Most of Choniates's sources were patristic and scήptural but, just like Glykas, he considered
Psellos authoήtative and orthodox. As a result, he boπowed several sections fi:-om the De
omnifaria doctrina, which he reorganised in the following order:92
Section numbers (Choniates) Section numbers in the De omnifaria doctrina
VII 84 (οη ideas)

VII 121 (οη the essence of the heaven)
VIII 131 (οη the essence of the stars)
VIII 132 (οη the movement of the stars)
VIII 137 (οη the revolution of each planet)
ΙΧ 161 (οη peήodic returns of the planets)
χ 127 (οη the relative sizes of the sun, the moon, and the earth)
ΧΙ 128 (οη solar eclipses)
ΧΙ 129 (οη lunar eclipses)
ΧΙΙ 130 (whether the sun is hot)
χχ 132 (οη the movement of the stars)
χχ 135 (οη the light of the stars)
( Continued)
319
Section numbers (Choniates) Section numbers in the De omnifaria doctrina
ΧΧΙ 153 (οη the void)

ΧΧΙΙ 18 (οη the elements at the basis of Creation)
ΧΧΙΙΙ 139 (οη comets)
XXIV 140 (οη rain, hail, snow, hoar-frost, and dew-heavily summaήsed)
XXIV 141 (again οη dew and hoar-frost-heavily summaήsed)
XXV 142 (οη rainbows-heavily summaήsed)
XXV 143 (οη haloes-heavily summaήsed)
XXV 144 (οη rods-heavily summaήsed)
XXV 145 (οη parhelies-heavily summaήsed)
XXVI 164 (οη earthquakes)
XXVII 146 (οη winds)
XXVIII 149 (οη thunderbolts-bήef excerpt)
XXVIII 150 (οη hurήcanes)
Indebted as he was to Psellos, Choniates referred regularly to "external philosophers," often

contrasting Plato and Aήstotle notably οη the essence of the heavens and of the stars, and also
mentioning a few notions ofHellenic astronomy (e.g., the revolution and peήodic return of the
planets,93 Aήstarchos's calculation of the sizes of the sun and the moon relative to that of the
earth, and eclipses). All his explanations or definitions of meteorological phenomena follow
Aήstotle's Meteorologica, via Psellos.
Ιη two manuscήpts, Paήs. gr. 1234 and Laur. Plut. 9.24, between sections ΧΙΙ and ΧΧ,
Choniates-or a later copyist-included excerpts fi:-om other works. The first expands οη
Psellos's discussion of section 130 (= Choniates ΧΙΙ), whether the sun is inherendy hot (Plato)
or not (Aήstode), to assess the nature of light, pondeήng whether light naturally belonged to
the sun and the stars, or whether it was the receptacle of the light created οη the first day, as
argued by Moses. Choniates rejected a range of Greek theoήes οη the nature of the stars (as
stones, pumice-stones, ethereal clouds, enflamed anvils, or glass) that may be boπowed fi:-om
Theodoret's Cure of Greek Diseases, although the list is considerably shorter.94 His
conclusion-that fire is light and the luminaήes are not light, but the recipients of light-stems
from the beginning of Chapter 21 of John Damascene's Expositio fidei (on light, fire, and the
celestial bodies of the sun, the moon, and the stars).95 It is immediately followed by the in
clusion of this chapter, which is excerpted and reorganised: 96 why the lunar year is shorter than
the solar year, the fiery nature of the stars, the Zodiac, the lunar phases, the motion and order of
the planets, seasons, and the movement of celestial bodies through the Zodiac. That one early
manuscript, Vat. gr. 680, does not include this entire section at all, raises interesting questions
οη the manuscήpt tradition of the text and οη the importance imparted to this cosmographical
introduction in the thirteenth century (if, indeed, John Damascene's chapter was added later to
complete Choniates's introduction).97 John Damascene's authority in astronomy was ac
knowledged among orthodox Christians. His chapters οη heaven (Chapter 20) and οη celestial
bodies (Chapter 21) circulated sometimes separately in Byzantine manuscήpts. For many or
thodox readers, they offered a clear overview of basic astronomical concepts.98
Whether Hellenic knowledge was considered a threat to one's orthodox identity or, οη the
contrary, was seen as one of its constitutive parts was a choice that also depended οη one's
community, education, and access to books. Choniates made this clear in his prologue, when
he highlighted the difficulty that newly exiled Byzantines faced when trying to access texts. Ιη
320
fact, the choice of a cosmographical worldview (spheήcal or hemispheήcal for instance) would
have been largely dictated by the availability of books, particularly outside Constantinople
where libraries were, overall, poorly endowed. For instance, many libraήes of Byzantine
monasteries in Sicily and southem Italy consisted pήmaήly of works destined to the liturgical
offices, scriptural texts, hagiographic and homiletic collections, and edificatory literature. Only a
small proportion of these repositoήes held books of another nature.99 The detailed inventory of
the library ofStJohn of Patmos, copied inSeptember 1201, confirms this tendency.100 The few
secular works of this monastery were grammatical, historical, or medical, with the exception of
an exemplar of Aήstotle's Categories. 101 Apart from the necessary medical treatises, few scientific
102
works are listed in monastic inventories. Ιη the twelfth century, Michael Glykas even had to
insist οη the necessity for monks to read theScήptures.103 The highly educated metropolitan of
Thessaloniki, the Homeήc commentator Eusthatios, bemoaned the fact that monks scoffed at
pagan literature (αύτοι πρός ταις εξω βίβλοις έξαθερίζουσι), even though Church Fathers had
based their works partially οη their wήtings.104 Eusthatios's remarks also highlight the strong
contrast the Constantinopolitan intellectual elite perceived between the capital and the
ήsing-but somewhat uncouth-provincial economic centres of the Empire where these elites
could be sent, for instance, to fill an empty Metropolitan seat.105
The case of the 16 sermons οη the Hexaemeron, wήtten by the Cypήot hermit Neophytos
the Recluse (1134-1214) is telling. Neophytos's works won a wide audience throughout
Cyprus, although their author regularly complained about his lack of formal education, one he
only received later in life.106 Το Neophytos's own admission, his meditations and scήptural
interpretations were the result not of formal education or reading, but of divine inspiration.107
The inventory of his monastery's library highlights the limited choice of works available to
Neophytos.108 Books were sometimes so difficult to find that, when composing his works, he
borrowed fi:-om other monasteήes, bishoprics, and pήvate households.109 Ιη his Hexaemeron, for
instance, Neophytos humbly admitted to have found an argument "in the Hexaemeron of the
divine Chrysostom, and Ι longed to find it in the Hexaemeron ofBasil the Great, but Ι did not
find [the book]. After travelling for thirty-seven years, [ ...] Ι looked again painstakingly to find
the Hexaemeron of the GreatBasil, and as Ι looked in the two monasteήes in the limits of Paphos
and Arsinoe, again, Ι did not find [it].... After these days [of fast] the spiήt helped me interpret
°
the story."11 Comparable complaints appear in other works.111
Relying solely οη John Chrysostom's Hexaemeron and the Scήptures, Neophytos's cosmo
graphical knowledge would have been limited. Whether the question even interested him is
difficult to establish: the shape of the world is not discussed here, even though his choice of
scriptural quotations is reminiscent of Antiochene exegetes. Just as John Chrysostom (but also
Basil of Caesarea), Genesis is essentially an invitation to marvel at God's power and wisdom:
God created heaven and earth in a manner opposite to ours, "having stretched the roof first,
then fixing the foundations" [Is. 40:22]; 112 His stronger might "supported each upon nothing"
[from a heirmos], 113 but "the heaven was stretched like a skin" [Ps. 103:2], and "the earth,
neither heavy nor light, was affixed οη waters" [Ps. 135:6] easily diffused.114 Ενeη though
Neophytos followed the Scήptures closely to descήbe the cosmos, he did not seem to have
anything against its study. For instance, his sermon οη the creation of the celestial bodies
included dates for seasons and coπesponding bodily humours.115 Names of stars were unknown
to him, however, "beside the sun, the moon, the moming star, Οήοη and the seven planets,
and ηο more, if not to those who are equipped with astrological knowledge and know some
other names for the stars."116 We shall never know what he would have said, had he been
confi:-onted withBasil's Hexaemeron; even though it largely depended οη education and libraήes,
one's cosmographic identity remained a choice.
321
The dearth that characteήsed Byzantine provincial libraries was exacerbated for many or
thodox Slavs, where the access to texts was restήcted by the availability of a Slavonic transla
tion. 117 Overall, until the early thirteenth century, the monastic communities of Slavia
Orthodoxa, benefitted from a limited set of-essentially-scήptural, patήstic, hagiographic, and
edificatory works. 118 For many of these communities, Greek astronomy, let alone philosophy,
was barely available in Slavonic; these subjects had to be introduced first by a Greek grammar
curήculum that was not οη offer, except in Greek for a few members of the intellectual elite. 119
Both cosmographical worldviews were available, however. The spherical model notably ap
peared in Basil's Hexaemeron and, only partially, in an incomplete translation of John
Damascene's Expositio fidei. It was also espoused explicitly in the Shestodnev (Hexaemeron) of
John the Exarch of Bulgaria (ninth century). Descήptions of the vaulted universe were more
abundant and circulated through translations and excerpts from the Hexaemeron ofSeveήanos of
Gabala, the Dialogues of Pseudo-Kaisaήos, and the Christian Topography of Kosmas
Indikopleustes. 120 They were adopted in the Paleia tolkovaia ( Old Testament Interpreted ), a
paraphrase of the Old Testament with its interpretation, which appeared in Rus in the thir
teenth century but may have had Bulgaήan oήgins. 121 Ιη this way, theSlavic clergy shared with
some Byzantine ecclesiastical communities-provincial and Constantinopolitan-an ambiva
lence about the best means of descήbing the cosmos in a spiήtual context. As was the case in
Byzantium, cosmographical identity was a matter of choice, conditioned by the texts available
but also by preference for an exegetical tradition in one's religious practice.
Manuscήpt evidence indicates that the Byzantine adherents of the box-like universe formed
a minoήty, but these documents are exclusively textual and confined to authors who were
willing to discuss the subject in wήting: what was discussed orally is lost to us. Υet, since these
discussions occuπed in exegetical contexts, they likely reached more people than the surviving
wήtten evidence suggests. 122 After the twelfth century and apart from the Slavic world, the
biblical box-like universe disappeared fi-om explicit discussions of cosmography in Byzantium.
Late and post-Byzantine scribes still copied these texts, however, including Peter the
Philosopher's astronomical treatise, thus echoing the Byzantine ambivalence between the two
models. 123 Ιη a few cases, the layout of manuscήpts where these ideas are reproduced clearly
points to a rejection of the box-like universe, but in most cases, it is difficult to tel1 whether this
worldview simply became a cuήosity or was openly espoused by some. 124
The extent to which a specific cosmographic model was a defining aspect of one's personal
identity, as was the case for Peter the Philosopher, is difficult to establish. Orthodoxy and or
thodox identity were multi-faceted. It seems clear that these cosmographic models related to
other markers of identification, such as one's association to an exegetical tradition and intellectual
culture. How one approached cosmography was likely suggestive of specific facets of one's or
thodox life. Thus, due to the economic and social circumstances of his Cypήote monastery,
Neophytos Enkleistos had access to Chystostom's works only. And, due to his strong attachment
to Chrysostom's work for reasons we ignore, Gregory Akropolites struggled with a spheήcal
model that contradicted the opinions of this Father of the Church. Ιη contrast, Michael Glykas
and Niketas Choniates openly embraced and promoted a cosmographical model associated with a
scholarly tradition imbued by Greek paideia, one which they considered orthodox.
The context where cosmography was discussed may also have mattered, particularly when
the subject was embedded in a larger fi-amework: Glykas's Annales and Choniates's Collection are
not cosmographical works per se, they are histoήcal in essence. As a history of Byzantium, the
first situated its inhabitants in universal history; as an exposition and denunciation of all heresies,
the second located Byzantine orthodox identity οη the timeline of dogmatic history. 125 Ιη both
cases, the account of the Mosaic creation turned into a lecture οη the fabήc of the cosmos.
322
Ιη the Annales, Glykas's emphasis οη natural history was such that some copyists remembered
the work as a Hexaemeron and an orthodox cuπiculum that acknowledged pagan (Claudius
Aelianus), patristic (e.g., Basil of Caesarea, John Chrysostom, or John Damascene), and
Byzantine authors (Michael Psellos).
Wήtten in the wake of the Fourth Crusade, Choniates's anthology aimed pήmaήly at an
choήng the faith of Byzantine Chήstians in true doctήnes so as to heal them against the
heretical sicknesses that were spreading among them after the takeover by the Latin Church.
His decision to include a bήef introduction to cosmography at the beginning of this collection
salvaged an elementary curήculum with the explicit intention of granting his readers access to
such knowledge. By proclaiming that the subject was useful to piety, as several Church Fathers
had asserted before, he ensured that Byzantine Chήstians remembered their place in the world
even though their geographic environment was lost. Just as Glykas before him, Choniates's
choice of sources enabled him to address this subject in Hellenic/pagan (Plato and Aήstotle),
patήstic (Damascene) and Byzantine terms (Psellos) and signalled that it was orthodox to do so if
one acknowledged the efficacy of divine creation descήbed by Moses in the Book of Genesis
(thus Epicurus's atomism and his denial of God and Providence were to be refuted).
Cosmography ensured that Byzantine orthodox Chήstians recognised their place within the
created world and, in some cases, were comfortable with some of their Hellenic roots.
Therefore, as a means to spiήtual contemplation, it was also a marker of one's Orthodox
identity.
Notes
1 Οη the different stages in the redaction of the History, see Alicia Simpson, "Before and Mter 1204:
The Versions of Niketas Choniates' Ήistoήa'," DOP 60 (2006): 189-221. The bibliography οη
Choniates's History is extensive. The reader may start with Alicia Simpson and Stephanos
Efthymiades, eds., Niketas Choniates: Α Historian and Α Writer (Geneva: La Pomme d'Or, 2009) and
Alicia Simpson, Niketas Choniates: Α Historiographical Study (Oxford: OUP, 2013).
rif
2 Anthony Kaldel1is, Hellenism in Byzantium: The Transformations Greek Identity and the Reception the rif
Classical Tradition (Cambήdge: CUP, 2008), 341-6.
3 Florence, Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, Plut. 9.24, f. 3r [hereafter Laur. Plut. 9.24].
4 Edition of the table of content and the prologue of Choniates' col1ection in Jan Louis van Dieten,
Zur ϋberliiferung und Veriffentlichung der Panoplia Dogmatike des Niketas Choniates [Zetemata byzantine,
3] (Amsterdam: Hakkert, 1970), 5(}-9; Latin translation of Books I-V in the Patrologiae cursus com
pletes. Series graeca, ed. J.-P. Migne [hereafter PG], vol. 139 (Paήs: Imprimeήe catholique, 1865),
1101-44; incomplete Greek edition and Latin translation of the remaining chapters in PG 140,
9-292. Book Ι has not yet been published in Greek, but Ι have used three out of four complete
thirteenth-century manuscripts: Laur. Plut. 9.24; Rome, Vatican City, Biblioteca apostolica
Vaticana, Vat. gr. 680 [hereafter Vat. gr. 680] and Paήs, Bibliotheque nationale de France, Paήs. gr.
1234 [hereafter, Paήs. gr. 1234].
5 Choniates first fled to Selymbήa in Apήl 1204, then was bήefly back to Constantinople after a
Cuman invasion in 1206. He reached Nicaea in December 1207 (Simpson, "Before and After
1204," 205).
6 Van Dieten, Zur ϋberliiferung und Veriif.fentlichung, 57, 11. 2(}-7.
7 Van Dieten, 59, 11. 12-5.
8 Only Paήs. gr. 1234, f. 8r and Vat.gr. 680, f. lr bear this title, which seems to be a later addition. The
Paήs manuscήpt also calls it the Treasure rif Orthodoxy G.L. van Dieten, "Zur ϋberlieferung der
Panoplia dogmatike des Niketas Choniates. Codex Paήsiensis graecus 1234," in Polychronion.
Festschriftfiίr Franz Dolger zum 75. Geburtstag, ed. Ρ. Wirth (Heidelberg: Carl Winter, 1966), 166 η.1
and 172).
9 Van Dieten, Zur ϋberliiferung und Veriffentlichung, 58, 1.19-59, 1.4. Ferdinand Cavallera deemed
Niketas's Collection so close to Euthymios Zigabenos's Dogmatic Panoply that he gave up editing the
text ("Le tresor de la foi orthodoxe," 125). Ιη the passages analysed here, Choniates's discussion is
323
reminiscent of Theodoret's Cure rif Greek Diseases (cf. infra). About this author, see Helen Sillett,
rif
'Όrthodoxy and Heresy in Theodoret of Cyrus' Compendium Heresies," Orthodoxie, christianisme,
histoire [Collection de l'Ecole franι;:aise de Rome, 270] (2000): 262-3; Aveήl. Cameron, 'Ήοw to
rif
Read Heresiology," ]ournal Medieval and Early Modern Studies 33.3 (2003): 478.
10 For instance, Codex Oxford, Bodleian Library, Holkh. gr.29, copied before 1238, reproduces only
Book ΧΧΙ οη the filioque (online descήption οη the catalogue of Medieval Manuscripts in Oxford
Libraries, https://medieval.bodleian.ox.ac.uk/catalog/manuscήpt_6151); Vat. gr. 680, which re
produces the full text, also includes works from other authors οη the subjects of the azyma and the
fιlioque (ff. 353r-508v). Interestingly, Choniates' discussion of the filioque and the azyma were not
reproduced in the Patrologia Graeca, even though they are listed in the table of content (Bossina,
"Niketas Choniates as a Theologian," 167-8).
11 Van Dieten, Zur ϋberliιiferung und Veriffentlichung, 50, 11. 5-9.
12 Cavallera, "Le tresor," 130.
13 Dion Smythe, 'Άlexios Ι and the Heretics: The Account of Anna Komnene's Alexiad," in Alexios Ι
Komnenos, eds. Μ. Mullett and D. Smythe [Belfast Byzantine Texts and Translations, 4.1] (Belfast:
Pήory Press, 1996), 232-59; Michele Tήzio, "Tήals of Philosophers and Theologians under the
Komnenoi," in The Cambridge Intellectual History of Byzantium, eds. Α. Kaldellis and Ν. Siniossoglou
(Cambridge: CUP, 2017), 462-76.
14 Jean Gouillard, Le Synodikon de l'Orthodoxie. Edition et commentaire [Travaux et memoires, 2] (Paήs:
De Boccard, 1967), 1-6.
15 Whether the resulting condemnations amounted to intellectual or political repression is beside the
point here. There were genuine religious motives behind these tήals which were pήmarily aimed at
preserving the tenets of Orthodoxy (Cameron, 'Ήοw to read Heresiology," 474).
16 rif rif
Οη the tήal of Italos, see Lowell Clucas, Ίhe Trial ]ohn Italos and the Crisis Intellectual Values in
Byzantium in the Eleventh Century (Munich: Institut fιir Byzantinistik, Neugήechische Philologie und
Byzantinische Kunstgeschichte der Universitat, 1981) and, more recendy, Paul Magdalino, "Deux
a
philosophes italiens face la xenophobie byzantine: repetition ou evolution d'un schema?," Cahiers
d'etudes italiennes 25 (2017) [https://journals.openedition.org/cei/3561] and Andras Κraft and Istvan
Perczel, "John Italos οη the Eternity of the World: Α New Cήtical Edition of Quaestio 71 with
Translation and Commentary," ΒΖ 111.3 (2018): 659-720. Regarding Eustratios, see Peήkles
Joannou, 'Έustrate de Nicee: Trois pieces inedites de son proces (1117)," REB 10 (1952): 24-34;
"Le sort des eveques heretiques reconcilies. Un discours inedit de Nicetas de Serres contre Eustrate
de Nicee," Byzantion 28 (1958): 1-30.
17 About Italos, see Antonio Rigo, "Giovanni Italo," in Dizionario biografico degli Italiani, vol. 56 (Rome:
Istituto della Enciclopedia italiana, 200 Gl), 62-7. According to Psellos's "Praise of Italos," Italos
already defended himself masterfully against accusations of heterodoxy as a student (Magdalino,
"Deux philosophes italiens," par. 5). http://www.treccani.it/enciclopedia/giovanni-italo_
%28Dizionaήo-Biografico%29/]. According to Psellos's "Praise of Italos," Italos already defended
himself masterfully against accusations of heterodoxy as a student (Magdalino, "Deux philosophes
italiens," par. 5).
18 His theological skills were used by the Emperor Alexios Ι Komnenos in a seήes of theological
debates, notably οη icons, against the Latins and against the Armenians Goannou, 'Έustrate de
Nicee," 25). Anna Komnene speaks highly of him in her Alexias (Athanasios Kambylis, Foteini
Kolovou and Diether Reinsch, eds., Annae Comnenae Alexias [Corpus Fontium Historiae Byzantinae.
Seήes Berolinensis 40.1] (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2001), XIV.8.9).
19 Gouillard, Le Synodikon, 57-61 (Italos) and 69-71 (Eustratios).
20 Scholars have regularly emphasised political reasons behind these tήals (e.g., Michael Angold, Church
and Society under the Comneni, 1081-1261 (Cambήdge: CUP, 1995), 50; Katerina Ierodiakonou,
rif
'Έustratios of Nicaea," in Encyclopedia Medieval Philosophy: Philosophy between 500 and 1500, ed. Η.
Lagerlund (New York: Spήnger, 2011), 338), or insisted that these philosophers never held those
opinions or did not express them in this way (see Clucas, The Trial of]ohn Italos, 10; J. Gouillard, Le
Synodikon, 194-5, 206-1Ο). Ultimately, whether heresiological documents expressed the views of the
accused correcdy or not is less relevant here than the way in which orthodox doctήnes were un
derstood and defined (Cameron, 'Ήοw to Read Heresiology," 472-4).
21 Gouillard, Le Synodikon, 57, 59.
22 Gouillard, Le Synodikon, 59.
324
23 Metaphysics knew a bήef revival thanks to Psellos, which ended in the Kornnenian peήod (Kaldellis,
Hellenism, 225).
24 The Synodikon still condemns Eustratios for emphasizing too stricdy the separation of Chήst's human
and divine natures, thereby assuming that Chήst in his humanity was like a slave to the Deity
(Gouillard, Le Synodikon, 69-71).
25 According to one of them, Eustratios upheld the idea that Chήst used Aήstotelian syllogisms (ό
Χριστός συλλογίζεται άριστοτελικως) in sacred and divine matters Goannou, 'Έustrate de Nicee,"
34; H.P.F. Mercken. "The Greek Commentators οη Aήstotle's Ethics," in Aristotle Transformed. The
Ancient Commentators and their Infiuence, ed. R. Sorabji (Ithaca, ΝΥ: Cornell University Press, 1990),
410-19).
26 About other tήals in the rule of Alexios, see Tήzio, "Tήals of Philosophers," 463-66 and Smythe,
"Alexios and the Heretics," 249-58.
27 About the Bogomils, see Angold, Church and Society, 468-90.
28 Anna Kornnene, Alexias, XV.8-10. Οη this tήal, see Antonio Rigo, 'ΊΙ processo del Bogomilo
Basilio (1099 ca.): Una ήconsiderazione," Orientalia Christiana Periodica 58 (1992): 185-211.
29 Anna Kornnene, Alexias, XV.9.1; Α. Rigo, "La Panoplie dogmatique d'Euthyme Zigabene: les Peres
de l'Eglise, l'empereur et les heresies du present" in Byzantine Theologians: Ίhe Systematization rifTheir
own Doctrine and Their Perception ofForeign Doctrines, eds. Α. Rigo and Ρ. Ermilov [Quaderni di Nea
Rome, 3] (Rome: Universita degli studi di Roma "Tor Vergata," 2009), 21. Zigabenos is also the
author of the Narratio de Bogomilis, a preparatory document exposing Bogomil doctήnes, which
formed the basis of the Dogmatic Panoply (Die Phundagiagiten: ein Beitrag zur Ketzergeschichte des by
zantinischen Mittelalters, ed. G. Ficker (Leipzig: J.A. Barth, 1908), 87-111). Οη the date, see G.
Parpulov and Η. Kusabu, "The Publication Date of the Dogmatic Panoply of Euthymios
Zigabenos," Revue d'Histoire des Textes (2019): 64-5.
30 Rigo, "La Panoplie dogmatique," 22-3.
31 PG 130, 24, 11. 27-57 (there is ηο cήtical edition of Zigabenos's Panoplia); Rigo, 24-5.
32 PG 130, cols. 197-208. Excerpts are taken from Gregory of Nazianzen's Oration 38 οη the Birthday
rif
Christ (In Ίheophania, ed. PG 36, cols. 312-33), ΙΧ-ΧΙΙ; Gregory of Nyssa οη divine Creation
from the Catechetical Oration, excerpts from Chapter V and Chapter VIII ( Oratio catechetica, Discours
catechetique. Introduction, traduction et notes par Raymond Wingling, ed. Ε. Mίihlenberg [Sources
chretiennes 453] (Paήs: Editions du Cerf, 2000); Maxim the Confessor's Four Hundred Chapters on
Love, IV.1, ΙΙΙ.30, IV.5, ΙΙΙ.25--6, IV.1(}-2 (Capita de caritate, Massimo confessore. Capitoli sulla carita, ed.
Α. Ceresa-Gastaldo (Rome: Editήce Studium, 1963) and Two Hundred Chapters on Ίheology Ι.48
(Capita theologica, Maximus Confessor Capita theologica et oeconomica. Zwei Centurien iίber die
Gotteserkenntnis, eds. Κ HajdίΊ and Α. Wollbod [Fontes Chήstiani, 66] (Vienna: Herder, 2017).
33 Angold, Religion and Society, 480; see for instance Zigabenos's own understanding and descήption of
the Bogomil heresy in PG 130, 1296-301.
34 Tήzio, "Trials of Philosophers," 464, 466-7.
35 The controversy lasted until 1170, although discussions about the decision of the synod resurfaced in
the late thirteenth century (Tήzio, "Tήals of Philosophers," 467-8).
36 Alessandra Bucossi, "New Histoήcal Evidence for the Dating of the Sacred Arsenal by Andronikos
Kamateros," REB 67 (2009): 114--6.
37 About the structure of this work, see Alessandra Bucossi, 'Άndronico Camatero e la zizzania: sulla
politica ecclesiastica bizantina in eta cornnena," Rivista di studi bizantini e neoellenici N.S. 47 (2010):
359--60; Bucossi, "New Histoήcal Evidence," 112-3.
38 Alessandra Bucossi, Andronici Camateri Sacrum Armamentarium, pars prima [Corpus Chήstianorum.
Seήes Graeca 75] (Turnhout: Brepols, 2014), prologue, 11. 1-15.
39 Jan Louis van Dieten, Nicetae Choniatae Historia [Corpus Fontium Histoήae Byzantinae. Seήes
Berolinensis 11.1] (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1975), 209-12. Οη Manuel and astrology, see Paul
Magdalino, L'orthodoxie des astrologues. La science entre le dogme et lα divination ά Byzance (VIIe-XIVe
siέcle) [Realites byzantines, 12] (Paήs: Lethielleux, 2006), 114-26.
40 Tia Kolbaba, "The Orthodoxy of the Latins in the Twelfth Century," in Byzantine Orthodoxies, eds.
Α. Louth and Α. Casiday (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2006), 199.
41 Tia Kolbaba, "Byzantine Perceptions of Latin Religious Έrrors': Themes and Changes from 850 to
rif
1350," in The Crusades from the Perspective Byzantium and the Muslim World, eds. Α. Laiou and R.
Mottahedeh (Washington D.C.: DO, 2001), 118-9.
325
42 According to the Latin Church, heresies were rampant in Byzantium (Alicia Simpson, Niketas
Choniates: Α Historiographical Study [Oxford: OUP, 2013], 38).
43 Galen, "De elementis ex Hippocrate," Claudii Galeni Opera omnia, vol. 1, ed. Κ. Kίihn (Leipzig:
Κnobloch, 1821), 415, 1. 14.
44 Van Dieten, Zur ϋberliιiferung, 58, 11. 1-7; see also a translation and analysis of this passage in Luciano
Bossina, "Niketas Choniates as a Theologian," in Niketas Choniates: Α Historian and Α Writer, eds. Α.
Simpson and S. Efthymiades (Geneva: La Pomme d'Or, 2009), 177-8.
45 Cf. supra. Bossina emphasise that, in spite of his deep-felt dislike for the Latins, Choniates highlighted
the need for reconciliation. This explains Choniates's exclusive focus οη two issues which he
considered more essential, the filioque and the Latin use of unleavened bread (azyma). Conceming the
first, ηο compromise was possible, but Choniates was more conciliatory about the second. This is in
stark contrast with more vociferous voices, for instance the long list of heresies established by his
contemporary Constantine Stilbes (Bossina, "Niketas Choniates," 174, 178-81; οη this question, see
Luciano Bossina, "L'eresia dopo la crociata. Niceta Coniata, i Latini e gli azimi (Panoplia dogmatica
ΧΧΙΙ)," in Padri greci e latini α confronto (sec. XIII-XV). Atti del convegno di studi della Societά
Internazionale per lo Studio del Medioevo Latino (Florence: 19-20 October, 2001), ed. Μ. Cortesi
(Florence: Sismel, 2004), 165-78).
46 Averil Cameron argues for looking at heresiological works as an aspect of Byzantine pedagogy
('Ήοw to Read Heresiology," 484).
47 PG 130, 25.
48 Theodoretus, "Graecorum cif.fectionum curatio," in Theodoret de Cyr. Therapeutique des maladies helleniques,
ed. Ρ. Canivet [Sources chretiennes 57] (Paήs: Le Cerf. 1958), IV.13-24.
49 Laur. Plut. 9.24, f. 5v (this passage is not reproduced in Vat. gr. 680); Theodoretus, Graecorum
cif.fectionum curatio, at IV.15.4-5 and IV.24.11. This citation is reminiscent of Aeschylus's Prometheus
Bound: τά μηδέν ώφελουντα μη πόνει μάτην (Prometheus vinctus, ed. D.L. Page, Aeschyli septem quae
supersunt tragoedias (Oxford: CP, 1972), 1. 44).
50 Epitome Historion, Ι.14.3-8. Οη Zonaras, see Neville, Byzantine Historiography, 191-9.
51 Balsamon was more mellow initially (Α.Μ. Ieraci Βίο, "Michele Glica sul contrasto fra astronomia e
astrologia (epist. 39 Eustr.)," in Atti del VI Congresso nazionale dell' Associazione italiana di studi bi
zantini. Catania-Messina, 2-5 Ottobre 2000, eds. Τ. Creazzo and G. Strano (Catania: Facolta di Lettere
e Filosofia, Universita di Catania, 2004), 442-3); edition G. Rhalles and Μ. Podes, Σύνταγμα των
θείων καi ίερών κανόνων, vol. 4 (Athens: G. Kartophylax, 1854), 511-9.
52 Rhalles and Potles, 511.
53 The four mathematical sciences-geometry, arithmetics, music, and astronomy-were taught by
extemal wisemen and passed οη to those wishing to gain wisdom and knowledge. The first three
Balsamon considered public and teachable; astronomy however was forbidden (Rhalles and
Podes, 512).
54 Excerpts are taken from the commentaries to Genesis of John Chrysostom, Theodoret of Cyrrhus,
John Damascene, Gregory of Nazianzen, and Basil of Caesarea (Rhalles and Potles, 512-5).
55 μή μόνον άνόνητον καi άνύπαρκτον άλλα καi άσεβες είναι της άστρονομίας τό μάθημα (Rhalles
Podes, 518).
56 About astrology in the Komnenian peήod, see Magdalino, LΌrthodoxie des astrologues, 91-132, with a
list of cleήcs who practised astrology at 126-7.
57 Basil of Caesaήa, 'Ήexaemeron Ι.6," in Basile de Cesaree. Homelies sur lΉexaemeron, ed. S. Giet
[Sources Chretiennes 26bis] (Paήs: Le Cerf. 1968), 326-9.
58 Μετά γαρ την θεολογίαν ή φυσιολογία κρηπίδα παρέχει τfi εύσεβείι;ι (Seveήanos of Gabala, In
mundi creationem orationes (fifth oration), in PG 56, 471).
59 Clemens Scholten, Antike Naturphilosophie und Christliche Kosmologie in der Schrift "De Opificio Mundi"
des ]ohannes Philoponos [Patristische Texte und Studien, 45] (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1996), 275.
60 Anne-Laurence Caudano, "Un univers spheήque ou νοιΊte? Survivance de la cosmologie anti
ochienne a Byzance (Xle et XIIe s.)," Byzantion 78 (2008): 66-86, here 67-8.
61 Caudano, "Un univers," 77. About the spheήcal and hemispheήcal models of the world, see Anne
Laurence Caudano, "Cosmographies et cosmologies vaήees dans les manuscήts byzantins tardifs,"
Byzantion 85 (2015): 4-10.
62 Basil of Caesarea was a Cappadocian, not an Alexandήan, however, and explicidy condemned al
legoήcal interpretations in his Hexaemeron, favouήng a literal reading. About these distinctions and
current discussions about them, see Isabella Sandwell, 'Ήοw to Teach Genesis 1.1-19: John
326
rif
Chrysostom and Basil of Caesarea οη the Creation of the World," ]ournal Early Chrίstian Studies
19.4 (2011): 543-4.
63 Α remarkable exception is of course Kosmas Indikopleustes, whose real identity is unknown but who
lived in Alexandήa. This may explain the little impact of his work in Alexandήa itself and the
controversy in which he became entangled with his contemporary, the Alexandήan philosopher
John Philoponos (M.V. Anastos, "The Alexandήan Oήgin of the 'Chήstian Topography' of Cosmas
Indicopleustes," Dumbarton Oaks Papers 3 (1946): 76; Wanda Wolska, La Topographie chrέtienne de
Cosmas Indicopleustes. Ίhέologie et science au VIe siecle (Paήs: Presses universitaires des France, 1962),
147-92; Maja Kominko, "New Perspectives οη Paradise - The Levels ofReality in Byzantine and
Latin Medieval Maps," in Cartography in Antiquity and the Middle Ages: Fresh Perspectives, New Methods,
eds.R. Talbert andR. Unger (Leiden: Brill, 2008), 140-1).
64 For a thorough analysis of the spheήcal and biblical models of the world in Late Antiquity, Ι refer the
reader to Herve Inglebert, Interpretatio Chrίstiana. Les mutations des savoirs (cosmographie, gέographie,
ethnographie, histoire) dans l'Antiquite chretienne (30-630 apres J.-C.) [Collection des Etudes
Augustiniennes. Seήe Antiquite, 166] (Paήs: Institut d'etudes augustiniennes, 2001), 30-72.
65 Gerhard Podskalsky, Von Photios zu Bessarion. Der Vorrang humanistisch geprdgter Ίheologie in Byzanz und
deren bleibende Bedeutung [Schήften zur Geistesgeschichte des ostlichen Europa, 25] (Wiesbaden:
Haπassowitz, 2003), 54-55. The chains were biblical commentaήes made of citations from the early
Church Fathers, which are found in the margins or in-between passages of biblical manuscήpts. Out of
33 manuscήpts, 14 date from this peήod, some of them lavisWy illustrated-the famous illustrated
Octateuchs (F. Petit, La chafne sur Ια Genese. Edition integrale, vol. 1: Chapitres 1 ά 3 [Traditio exegetica
graeca, 1] (Leuven: Peeters, 1991), xiii-xv, xxiv-xxv; ]. Lowden, Ίhe Octateuchs. Α Study in Byzantine
Manuscript fllustration (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1992), 15-21, 29-33, 84).
66 Caudano, "Un univers," 71-7.
67 Περί του ε'ίτε σφαιροειδής έστι καi άεικίνητος ό ούρανός, ε'ίτε καi μή κατά τόν θείον Χρυσόστομον
in Michael Glykas, Quaestiones in sacram scrίpturam, letter 13, ed. S. Eustratiades, Μιχαήλ του Γλυκα είς
τάς απορίας της θείας γραφης κεφάλαια, vol. 1 (Athens: Sakellaήos, 1906), 155-66). Michael Glykas
had been secretary to Manuel Ι Komnenos, but was exiled after being found guilty of conspiracy. He
became a monk and turned his attention to theology (Ρ. Magdalino, The Empire rif Manuel Ι
Komnenos, 1142-1180 (Cambήdge: CUP, 1993), 370-82; Angold, Church and Society, 128-31).
68 Πρόρριζον συν, ώς εφημεν, την μυθολογίαν ταύτην άνασπάσαι μαχόμενος, καi λόγοις
αύστηροτέροις κεχρησθαι παρεβιάζετο κατά των σφαιροειδή λεγόντων είναι τόν ούρανόν καi
άεικίνητον. The context given is that of Manicheanism (Glykas, Quaestiones, 163, 11. 10-3).
69 Caudano, "Un univers," 82-5.
70 Chrysostom is overall more moralistic and edificatory in his homilies οη Genesis, with the result that
less attention was given to exegesis per se. Basil devoted more time explaining Greek arguments,
refuting some and adopting others. Both agreed that God's creative act could not be explained by
human reason, however, and should lead one to gloήfy the Creator (Sandwell, "Teach
Genesis," 546-8).
71 About this character and his works, see Anne-Laurence Caudano, "Le ciel a la forme d'un cube ou a
ete dresse comme une peau. Pieπe le Philosophe et 1'orthodoxie du savoir astronomique sous
Manuel Ier Comnene," Byzantion 81 (2011): 19-73.
72 Caudano, "Le ciel," 52-4.
73 John Damascene described at length notions of spheήcal astronomy, but also mentioned the ex
istence of the hemispheήcal (ήμισφαίριον) model, concluding that "whether it is so or otherwise,
everything came forth and was established οη God's command, and possess the divine will and
intention as unshakable foundation" (Bonifatius Kotter, Die Schriften des ]ohannes von Damaskos, ΙΙ,
Έκδοσις ακριβής της όρθοδόξου πίστεως. Expositiofidei [Patήstische Texte und Studien, 12] (Berlin:
De Gruyter, 1973), 52).
74 The discussion of planetary elongations is unusual in such short introductions, however (Caudano,
"Le ciel," 32-3).
75 Caudano, "Le ciel," 30.
76 See a detailed analysis of this treatise in Caudano, "Le ciel," 31-45.
77 Caudano, "Le ciel," 31-2.
78 Lunar eclipses cannot be easily explained in a model where the earth is flat and conical (Caudano,
"Le ciel," 34-5). The calculation of the horoscopic point is assimilated to a calculation of seasonal
hours, but is garbled (Caudano, "Le ciel," 36-9).
327
79 George Kedrenos, "Synopsis Histoήon," in Georgius Cedrenus Iannis Scylitzae ope, vol. 1, ed. Ι.
Bekker [Corpus scήptorum histoήae byzantinae] (Βοηη: Weber, 1838), 6-9; Constantine Manasses,
"Synopsis chronike," in Constantini Manasses breviarum chronicum, ed. Ο. Lampsides [Corpus scήp
torum histoήae byzantinae 36.1] (Athens: Academy of Athens, 1996), 11. 27-297; John Zonaras,
'Έpitome Histoήon," in Ioannis Zonarae epitome historiarum, vol. 1, ed. L. Dindorf (Leipzig: Teubner,
1868), 12-5.
80 Michael Glykas, "Biblos chronike," in Michaelis Glycae Annales, ed. Ι. Bekker [Corpus scήptorum
historiae byzantinae] (Βοηη: Weber, 1936). The creation of the natural world and ofmankind is the
object ofthe first section and spans about a third ofthe work (pp. 4-221). Α breakdown ofthe topics
of natural philosophy discussed in Glykas's Annales is given in S. Mavromati-Katsougiannopoulou,
'Ή Εξαήμερος του Μιχαήλ Γλυκά: Μία εκλαϊκευτική επιστημονική πραγματεία του 12ου αιώνα,"
Βυζαντινά 17 (1994): 46-53.
81 Especially Basil of Caesarea, but also John Chrysostom, Gregory of Nyssa, Maxim the Confessor,
John Damascene, and several others (Mavromati-Katsougiannopoulou, 59-64).
82 Mavromati-Katsougiannopoulou, 64-8. Οη Psellos as a source of Glykas's Hexaemeron, see S.
Mavromati-Katsougiannopoulou, 'Ή Διδασκαλία παντοδαπή του Μιχαήλ Ψελλού και η
Χρονογραφία του Μιχαήλ Γλυκά," Βυζαντινά 15 (1989): 143-53, especially p. 145. Glykas con
sidered Psellos most wise (ό σοφώτατος Ψελλός) and highly honourable (ύπέρτιμος) (Bekker,
Michaelis Glycae, 341, 1. 20 and 612, 1. 1). Similar compliments appear in the works ofother authors of
the Komnenian peήod (Kaldellis, Hellenism, 226-7).
83 There is a good number of references to Aήstotle's authoήty throughout the text (for instance in
Bekker, Michaelis Glycae, 14, 1.13; 57, 1. 1; 71, 1. 21; 97, 1. 22-98, 1.1; 102, 1.15, etc.).
84 The passage is a doxography that rejects the theoήes of Anaxagoras, Democήtus, Anaximander,
Xenophanes, Philolaos, and Anaximenes (Bekker, Michaelis Glycae, 39-41). Ιη contrast to Choniates
and Theodoret, however, Glykas omitted to list Plato and Aήstotle's theories οη the subject. For
Choniates's text, see Laur. Plut. 9.24, f. 5v and Paήs. gr. 1234, f. 1 lr (= PG 139, 1111); this section is
not reproduced in the Vat.gr. 680); Theodoretus, Graecorum affectionum curatio, at IV.15.4-5 and
IV.24.11 (cf. infra).
85 Another complete copy dates from the thirteenth century, Venice, Biblioteca Marciana, codex
Marcianus gr. Ζ402 (Mavromati-Katsougiannopoulou, 'Ή Εξαήμερος του Μιχαήλ Γλυκά," 10-3).
Το his list of manuscripts, one may add the thirteenth-century codex Istanbul, Patήarkhe bib
liotheke, codex Panaghia 64, ff. 313-31v, which reproduces Glykas's Hexaemeron.
86 Epiphanios, "Panaήon," in Epiphanius. Ancoratus und Panarion, vol. 1, ed. Κ. Holl [Die gήechichen
chήstlichen Schήftsteller 25] (Leipzig: Hinήchs, 195), 186-7; Zigabenos, Panoplia dogmatike (PG 130,
25, 11. 26-7 and 37-43).
87 ό μεν Μωϋσης άπλουστέραν καί συντομωτέραν η μαλλον συνεκτικώτεραν την των δλων σημαίνων
παραγωγήν (Laur. Plut. 9.24, f. 4v; Vat. gr. 680, f. 3v; Paris. gr. 1234, f. 9v).
88 Α point emphasise by many against the belief in the eternity ofthe world (see for instance section 18
ofMichael Psellos's "De omnifaήa doctrina," in Michael Psellus, De omnifaria doctrina. Critical Text and
Introduction, ed. L.G. Westeήnk (Nijmegen: Centrale Drukkeήj, 1948), 25).
89 [Τ]ων δ' εξωθεν φιλοσοφων ενιοι μεν άρχην των δλων την υλην καί είδος παραδιδόασι πραγμα δέ
φασι είναι την υλην αίσθήσει μεν άθεάτφ διανοίι;t δέ μόνη καταληπτόν Ιiμορφον άνείδεον ούσίαν
άνούσιαν (Laur. Plut. 9.24, f. 4v; Vat. gr. 680, f. 3v; Paήs. gr. 1234, f. 9v).
90 Bekker, Michaelis Glycae, 16, 11. 21-2; Sandwell, 'Ήοw to Teach," 546.
91 Laur. Plut. 9.24, ff. 5v-6r and 7r; Paήs. gr. 1234, ff. lOv-1 lr.
92 Choniates also used De omnifaria doctrina in other section ofhis work (Cavallera, "Le Tresor," 130).
93 Regarding the revolution of the planets, there is an interesting divergence between Psellos's section
137 and Choniates's version. As the first marvelled at God's wisdom in view ofthe musical harmony
(emphasise) these planetary revolutions caused (Westeήnk, Michael Psellus, 71), the second empha
sized their mysteήous (μυστικώτερον) element (Laur. Plut. 9.24, f. 5r; Paήs. gr. 1234, f. 10r-v; Vat.
gr. 680, f. 4v).
94 Theodoretus, Graecarum affectionum curatio, IV.17-20; Laur. Plut. 9.24, ff. 5v-6r; Paήs. gr. 1234, ff.
lOv-1 lr. Ιη Paris. gr. 1234, the doxography ofGreek theoήes οη the nature ofthe stars was added in
the top margin ofthe manuscήpt, which may indicate a scήbe's later addition. Paήs. gr. 1234, copied
by Theodore Skoutaήotes, is ηο longer considered the best representative of Choniates's text (van
Dieten, "Zur ϋberlieferung der Panoplia," 168-9).
95 Kotter, Die Schriften, 54.
328
96 Kotter, Die Schrifίen, 55-61.

97 Alternatively, it may have been removed in Vat. gr. 680 as a somewhat redundant discussion. Α
cήtical edition of Choniates's Collection is clearly needed.
98 Caudano, "Le ciel," 45-6. See for instance in Laur. Plut. 87.14, ff. 8ν-12 (13th century); Paήs. gr.
854, fols. 20r-22v and 197v-200r, and in London, Bήtish Library, Harleianus 5624, fols. 273r-282v.
Ιη the Slavic world these chapters were sometimes entitled ''Book of the Heavens" (L. Sadnik, Des
Heilige ]ohannes von Damaskus: Έκθησις ακριβής της όρθοδόξου πίστεως in der ϋbersetzung der
Exarchen Johannes [Monumenta Linguae Slavicae dialecti veteήs. Fontes et Dissertationes, 5]
(Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1967), viii).
99 Paul Canart, 'Άspetti mateήali e sociali della produzione libraήa italo-greca tra norrnanni e svevi," in
Libri e lettori nel mondo bizantino. Guida storica e critica, ed. G. Cavallo (Roma-Baή: Laterza, 1982),
117-21.
100 Charles Diehl, "Le tresor et la bibliotheque de Patmos au commencement du 13e siecle," ΒΖ 1
(1892): 516-21.
101 Α later inventory ofthe same library, made in 1355, shows a larger vaήety ofprofane authors, mostly
histoήans and philosophers (Diehl, "Le tresor," 499, 507).
102 Paul Lemerle, "Le testament d'Eustathios Boilas (avήl 1059)," in Cinq έtudes sur le XIέme siecle by
zantin (Paήs: Centre national de la recherche scientifique, 1977), 25.
103 Ιη Chapter 65 of Glykas's Quaestiones in sacram scripturam, a letter addressed to the monk Isaiah,
"whether one should heed to those who say that reading the Scήptures is useless," Glykas reminds his
reader that if the Saint (Gregory of Nazianzen) valued the study of pagan (outside) wisdom, for
instance in medicine or in the knowledge of beings, then monks should at least value the study of
"inside" and spiήtual wisdom (S. Eustratiades, Μιχαήλ του Γλυκα εiς τάς α πορ ίας της θείας γραφης
κεφάλαια, vol. 2 (Alexandήa: Patήarkhikon Typographion, 1912), 18(}-197, esp. 185-7).
104 Eusthatius ofThessaloniki, "De emendanda vita monachica," in Eusthatii Ίhessalonicensis De emendanda
vita monachica, ed. Κ. Metzler [Corpus fontium histoήae byzantinae. Seήes berolensis 45] (Berlin: De
Gruyter, 2006), Chapter 143.
105 One may also think of Michael Choniates in Athens and Theophylaktos in Ohήd (Niels Gauls,
"Rising Elites and Institutionalization - Ethos/Mores - 'Debts' and Drafts. Three Concluding Steps
Towards Compaήng Networks of Learning in Byzantium and the 'Latin' West, c. 1000-1200," in
Networks of Learning: Pe rspectives on Scholars in the Byzantine East and Latin West, c. 1000-1200, eds. S.
Steckel, Ν. Gauls and Μ. Grίinbart (Zuήch-Berlin: Lit Verlag, 2014), 257-8; Kaldellis, Hellenism,
318-21; Margaret Mullett, 'Ίη Peήl οη the Sea: Travel Genres and the Unexpected," in Travel in the
rif
Byzantine World. Papersfrom the Ίhirty-Fourth Spring Symposium Byzantine Studies, Birmingham, April
2000, ed. R. Macήdes (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2002), 274-6)
106 Catia Galataήotou, Ίhe Making rif rif
α Saint: The Life, Time and Sanctijication Neophytos the Recluse
(Cambήdge: CUP, 1991), 13-8.
107 Galataήotou, Making of α Saint, 261.
108 John Thomas and Angela Constantinides, eds., Byzantine Monastic Foundation Documents: Α Complete
Translation of the Surviving Founders Typika and Testaments [Dumbarton Oaks Studies 35] (Washington
D.C.: DO, 2000), 1355.
109 Galataήotou, Making of α Saint, 22-23, 155-6.
110 Th. Detorakes, "'Ερμηνεία της έξαημέρου," in Άγίου Νεοφύτου του Έγκλείστου Συγγράμματα, vol.
4, eds. D.G. Tsames, Ν. Zacharopoulos, C. Oikonomou and Ι. Karabidopoulos (Paphos: Holy
Monastery of St Neophytos, 2001), Chapter 3, 11. 144-55.
111 Galataήotou, Making of α Saint, 158-9, 166.
112 Compare with John Chrysostom, Homilia ΙΙ in Genesim (PG 53, col. 30, 11. 14-27).
113 Ι. Lampadaήos, Ειρμολόγιον των καταβασιών Πέτρου του Πελοποwησίου, μετά των κανόνων του
όλου ενιαύτου και συντόμου Ειρμολογίου (Constantinople: Typographia tou Panagiou Taphou,
1839), 428.
114 Detorakes, "'Ερμηνεία της έξαημέρου," Chapter 1, 11. 43-56.
115 Detorakes, Chapter 4, 11. 29-42.
116 'Όυτω καi έπi τα πλήθη των ούρανίων φωστήρων, ούδέν ήμίν γνώριμον δνομα, πλην Ήλίου,
Σελήνης, 'Εωσφόρου, Ώρίωνος, καi των έπτά πλανητών καi πλείον ούδέν, εί μήπω οί την
άστρολογικήν έπιστήμην έξησκημένοι καi αλλας τινάς έπιστάμενοι όνομασίας άστέρων" (Detorakes,
Chapter 4, 11. 52-56). Neophytos's "planets" may refer to the seven stars ofthe Pleiades, also mentioned
in the Bible with the other stars listed here, for instance in Job 9:9 and 38:31, and in Amos 5:8.
329
117 This point needs to be nuanced of course, since a few Slavic literati would have been able to read the
texts in the Greek original (Robert Romanchuk, "Ίntellectual Silence' and Intellectual Endeavour in
Medieval Slavia Orthodoxa," Russian History 46 (2019): 198-9; Tania Ιvanova-Sullivan, 'Ίnterpreting
Medieval Literacy: Learning and Education in Slavia Orthodoxa (Bulgaήa) and Byzantium in the
Ninth to Twelfth Centuήes," in Medieval Education, eds. R. Begley and J. Koterski [New York:
Fordham University Press, 2005], 58).
118 Francis J. Thomson, "Checklist of Slavonic Translations," in Editing Mediaeval Texts from α Di.fferent
Angle. Slavonic and Multilingual Traditions. Together with Francis]. Ίhomson's Bibliography and Checklist of
Slavonic Translations, eds. L. Sels, J. Fuchsbauer, V. Tomelleή and Ι. De Vos [Oήentalia Lovaniensia
Analecta 276, Bibliotheque de Byzantion 19] (Leuven: Peeters, 2018), 43-129.
119 Romanchuk, 'Ίntellectual Silence," 198-200.
120 Other views circulated as well, notably through apocryphal literature (A.-L. Caudano, "Let there be
lights in the firmament cif the heaven:" Cosmological depictions in Early Rus [Palaeoslavica, 14.
Supplementum, 2] (Cambήdge, ΜΑ: Palaeoslavica, 2006), 41-53, 59-77). See also Ν. Jankovic,
AcmpoHOMUja y cmapUM CpncκUM pyκonucUMa (Belgrade: Serbian Academy of Science and Arts,
1989); Ts. Κristanov and Ι. Duichev, Ecmecmeo3HaHuemo e cpeiJHoeeκoeHa E-ι,πzapufl: c6opHuκ om
ucmopu'lecκu U36opu/Les sciences naturelles en Bulgarie au Moyen Age (Sofia: Izdanie na Bi:ίlgarskata
Akaderniia na Naukite, 1954); V. V. Mil'kov, KocMOJΙOZU'lecκue npou3eeiJeHUfl 6 KHUJΙCHocmu
/1,peeHeiί Pycu, 2 vols. [Pamiatniki drevnerusskoi mysli. Issledovaniia i teksty 4] (St Petersburg: Mir,
2008-2009).
121 Mil'kov, KocMOJΙOZU'lecκue npou3eeiJeHUfl, vol. 2, 158-369. About the sources of the Paleia, see
Tatiana Slavova, Τ-ι,πκοeΗαmα naπefl e κoHmeκcma Ηα cmapo6-ι,π2apcκama KHUJΙCHUHa
[Universitetska biblioteka, 418] (Sofia: Universitetsko izdatelstvo "Sv. Κliment Okhήdski," 2002),
168-94. The situation changed after the thirteenth century, however, as other cosmographical texts
also circulated (see for instance, Κristanov and Dujcev, EcmecmeωHaHuemo, 342-52; Anne
Laurence Caudano, "Cosmography, Asceticism and Female Patronage in Late Byzantine and Slavic
Miscellanies," Almagest 8.2 (2017): 32-7; R. Romanchuk, Byzantine Hermeneutics and Pedagogy in the
Russian North: Monks and Masters at the Kirillo-Belozerskii Monastery, 1397-1501 (Toronto: University
of Toronto Press, 2007), 35-77; Ν.Κ. Gavήushin, "HcτoqHHKH π CΠHCKH KOCMOJIOΓHqecκoro
τpaκτaτa XVB. Ό He6ecπ'," Bonpocι,ι ucmopuu ecmecmeo3HaHUfl u meκxHuκu 1 (1988): 132-40).
122 The first book of Genesis was read during Lent. How it was preached is more difficult to establish,
but the importance of the catenae to Genesis in the liturgy has been ascertained (Sandwell, 'Ήοw to
Teach," 539-40; Caudano, "Un univers," 69; Podskalsky, Von Photios zu Bessarion, 54-5).
123 Ιη fact, with the exception of the thirteenth-century Paήs, Bibliotheque nationale de France, Paήs.
gr. 854, the manuscήpt tradition of Peter the Philosopher's treatise is rather late (Caudano, "Le
ciel," 20-2).
124 Caudano, "Cosmologies et cosmographies vaήees," Byzantion 85 (2015): 14-9.
125 Οη heresiology as a histoήographical genre, see Inglebert, Interpretatio Christiana, 456-61.
330
PARTIV
Gendered Identities: Literature,

Memory, and Self in Early and
Middle Byzantium
Taylor & Francis
19
PRIVILEGE, PLEASURE,
PERFORMANCE: READING
FEMALE NUDITY ΙΝ LATE
ANTIQUE ART 1
Grace Stafford
The hostility of early Christian wήters towards nudity is one of the great tropes traditionally
understood to signal the transformation of the classical world in Late Antiquity. From being
the preserve of gods and goddesses, heroes and emperors, nudity became associated instead
with sin, shame, and immorality.2 Nowhere is this shift more apparent than in the realm of
visual culture. While the art of the High Empire did not shy away from erotic scenes or the
naked body, late antique art seems significantly more conservative by comparison. 3 Emperors
ceased to be depicted nude by the late fourth century, erotic art went into decline, and the
nudity of the old gods was treated with suspicion if not outήght aggression. 4 The last bastion
of classical nudity was in private mythological scenes, which remained popular well into the
sixth and seventh centuries.5 Ultimately, however, Chήstian tήumph had tήggered a shift
that would lead to the more prudish attitudes to the nudity of the Byzantine and Medieval
peήods. 6
Is our story really as simple as liberated Romans and repressed Chήstians? Before the ήse of
Christianity, the Romans had a complex relationship with nudity. Being naked at the baths
was perfectly acceptable, but at the gymnasium could be associated with pederasty; public
exposure was inflicted οη criminals and slaves, but emperors and high-ranking women and
men appeared in portrait statuary wearing nude "costume types." 7 There was ηο single social
response to the naked body or to its deployment in art, which was instead heavily dependent
οη who was naked, where, when, and why. The Church Fathers, by contrast, presented a
united front when it came to nudity, characteήzing the exposure of the body as dangerous,
leading to sexual temptation and sin. 8 Reading between the lines, however, the anxieties of
these wήters were fuelled by the continued presence of the naked body in contemporary life
and visual culture. It was the pervasiveness of nudity and its potential power that made it
dangerous, but it was also these features that marked its desirability. Naked images were
difficult for people to negotiate and they continue to pose significant methodological issues
for modern scholarship too, perched precariously οη the intersections of gender and status,
paganism and Chήstianity.
Visual evidence offers us a ήch and under-used source through which to challenge the
dorninant naπatives of Chήstian texts and explore the social frameworks that governed attitudes
DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-23 333

Grace Stafford
to the body, gender, and identity. Scholarship has largely focused οη the depiction of Chήstian
figures such as Lazarus, Adam and Eve,Jonah, Daniel, and Chήst, whose nudity has been linked
to resuπection and rebirth, symbolising the potential of Jesus to save humankind.9 Ιη this
context, nakedness was connected to the ήtual of baptism, where individuals stήpped off their
old selves and symbolically returned to a state of unashamed nudity and innocence to be reborn
into the Christian faith.10 This highly symbolic nudity, however, tells us relatively little about
how shifting attitudes to the nude body impacted real people. This chapter addresses this issue
by looking beyond Biblical figures to how nudity functioned as part of the negotiation of
individual identity in late antique art. It was female nudity (both in image and reality) that
tήggered the most extreme responses from contemporaήes, and it is, therefore, the depiction of
naked women that this chapter will focus οη. 11
Not all of the examples that Ι will discuss show women completely naked, some have just
12
the lower body exposed (including the genitals), or one or both breasts. Ιη the ancient world,
the terms gymnos or nudus did not just mean completely naked, but also "lightly-clad," for
example weaήng a loincloth or a light tunic. 13 Ιη essence, to be described as naked one did not
have to bare all. While it is clear why the partial exposure of breasts and genitals have been
included in this discussion of nudity, Ι will also consider the depiction of women in short tunics.
Given the long, floor-skimming tunics worn by elite women, or even the ankle-length versions
worn by slaves, short tunics above the knee in the style usually worn by men must have been
considered under the umbrella of nudus as "lightly-clad." As we shall see, the weaήng of such
tunics by women was primaήly limited to performers.
Nudity, Identity, and Gender: Problems of Interpretation

The act of covering or exposing the body is intimately connected to social identity, in particular
to ήtuals of change in which nudity represents a liminal stage of transformation. It is also
connected to extremes of experience and emotion: puήty and innocence οη the one hand but
also shame and humiliation, and of course sexual desire. 14 Understanding depictions of the
naked body is challenging, as it can signify both power and powerlessness, leaving us to navigate
a labyήnth of potential implications. Cultural attitudes to nakedness impacted women the most,
as they were frequently positioned at the extreme ends of this spectrum. Chήstian sources
emphasised the significant dangers that exposed female bodies presented to men. While all
nudity was problematic, the nature of "woman" made her body more threatening. Medical
tradition had long considered women's bodies to be biologically infeήor to men's, their nature
making them more vulnerable to temptation and the desires of the body.15 For Christians, this
was manifested in the story of The Fall of Adam and Ενe.16 Attitudes to women who exposed
their bodies, however, remained little different to those of previous centuries. The idea that
"virtuous" women dressed modestly was an ancient one, not only marking a perceived internal
moral state but also certain legal ήghts connected to status and social pήvilege. Laws governing
which groups of women were entitled to wear a veil, for example, stretch back to at least the
end of the second millennium BC. 17 Female nudity, by contrast, was commonly associated with
prostitution and slavery, women with ηο ήght to sexual shame and whose bodies were some of
the most vulnerable in society.18
These negative attitudes to nakedness, and their relationship to status and gender, coexisted
alongside social practices that legitimised the display of the body in certain circumstances.
Communal bathing (both mixed and segregated), the practice of athletics, and nude baptism all
required the removal of clothes, while images of nude gods, goddesses, and other mythological
figures continued to people the built landscape and decorate luxury goods.19 Ιη this context, it
334
Reading Female Nudity
Figure 19.1 The "Bikini Girls" Mosaic at Piazza Armeήna (Photo by author, with kind permission of the
Parco Archeologico di Morgantina e della Villa Romana del Casale di Piazza Armeήna)
is ηο surpήse that depictions of naked women from the ancient world are notoήously tήcky to
interpret.20 We find an illustrative case study in the famous mosaic of the "Bikini Girls" from
the fourth-century villa at Piazza Armeήna in Sicily (Fig. 19.1).21 The very name given to this
mosaic in Anglophone scholarship should be enough to demonstrate the framework in which it
was interpreted after the villa was rediscovered in the early twentieth century. The mosaic was
understood as representing a beauty contest, a sexually charged aquatic rnime, a troupe of
dancing girls, or a pure artistic fantasy, thus placing the sexuality of the subjects at the fore in
early scholarly responses.22 The assumption that informed these suggestions was that since the
women are scantily clad, they must be of low status, displaying their bodies to cater to male
sexual desires.
Ιη 1984, Hugh Μ. Lee wrote an article arguing persuasively for the interpretation of the
mosaic as a pentathlon and the girls as athletes, a reading that has received general acceptance
among scholars.23 This argument was furthered in 2008, when Isabella Baldini's examination of
the wall paintings from the villa showed that the motifs from the mosaic were repeated in wall
paintings with much younger nude children.24 The combination of serious "real" scenes en
acted by adults and parody versions in which children or erotes take over the roles is found
throughout the villa, confirrning the intention of this mosaic as a seήous depiction of athletes.
Once we extract ourselves from the assumption that a nude female body must be sexual, it
becomes clear that this interpretation fits well with the wider visual repertoire of the villa and
contemporary athletic practice. It also demonstrates a histoήcally specific construction of gender
that informed ideals of representation. First, the owners of the villa evidently had a strong
335
Grace Stafford
interest in games and competition of all kinds, choosing to represent it multiple times in the
decorative scheme of the dσmus. This has led some to suggest that the owners were involved in
the financing and organization of games in Rome and elsewhere.25 During the impeήal peήod
there were certainly athletics competitions at which the daughters of the elite could compete
and show off their skills, and these may have persisted into the fourth century, although there is
ηο secure evidence that girls still competed in athletics events beyond the third century.
26
However, such silence is relatively unsurpήsing, since there is less surviving evidence for
competitions and competitors in general duήng Late Antiquity, and evidence for female
competitors had always been relatively sparse. We do know that there were still athletics
competitions in Sicily duήng the fourth century: a verse inscήption from Catania honours an
agσnσthetes. 27 Ιη the context of the rest of the villa it is possible that the owners had an interest in
such games for girls, or at least in the aήstocratic values that they represented.28
Exercise and even competition can also be connected to the development of proper feminine
virtues. Contemporary medical texts advised the strict regulation of diet and the promotion of
exercise for the healthy physical development of girls: control of the body was especially important
for reproductive health, and also helped to control mental impulses and encourage moral beha
viour.29 Just as the bodies of male athletes could represent the self-control needed to train and
compete, so could the bodies of female athletes. The girls in the mosaic display their toned bodies
not only as members of a social class that could afford to indulge in athletic practices but also as girls
in peak physical and mental condition for their future roles as chaste wives and fertile mothers. The
competitive aspect of the mosaic may have appealed to the owners of the villa for reasons discussed
above, as well as elevating the girls' actions beyond leisurely exercises and towards the ideal of the
victor.30 Ι believe it is therefore unlikely that the mosaic represents dancers or performers, but
rather elite girls engaged in an activity that was still acceptable and even desirable for their age and
status. Their involvement in exercise and competition marked their participation in a wider social
rhetoήc that pήzed self-control as an indicator of mental and physical continence.
Early scholarly approaches were too focused οη nudity and paid too little attention to the
specific context of the mosaic regarding constructions of gender and status. If these are elite girls,
as Ι contend, then they would have been shielded fi-om the vulnerability associated with nudity
expeήenced by women of lower social orders. Rather than exarnining the social and cultural
context of Late Antiquity, the treatment of the "Bikini Girls" instead revealed more about mid
twentieth century attitudes to gender and the nude female body. This is exemplified by pro
motional photographs fi-om Italian designer Emilio Pucci's Spήng/Summer 1955 collection
"Siciliana," which included a young model weaήng a bikini designed by Pucci lying οη the
mosaic in a seductive pose.31 Aside fi-om the issue of cultural context, another methodological
problem raised by this mosaic is the fi-agmentation of relevant comparative mateήal. One of the
reasons why the athletes fi-om Piazza Armeήna have been so consistently misinterpreted is because
they were viewed in isolation, therefore appeaήng strange and incongruous in compaήson to
other well-known mateήal fi-om the peήod. Despite this being one of the most widely recognised
images of women fi-om antiquity, nudity in late antique art has never been systematically studied
beyond explicitly Chήstian themes.32 This is probably in part because nudity declined and
eventually disappeared in portrait sculpture, one of the best-studied media of classical art.33 Ιη
concert with the hostility to nudity expressed in Chήstian sources, we might be forgiven for
assuming it vanished entirely.34 Sculpture production in general, however, was in decline in Late
Antiquity, and we must turn to other media to exarnine the representation of nudity.35 Although
a complete systematic study of the nude female body in late antique art is beyond the scope of this
chapter, Ι will present a range of surviving mateήal and offer some thoughts about what can be
learned fi-om approaching the evidence holistically.36 Ι will conclude by assessing how we can
336
maximise our understanding of these images by embracing the multivalent meanings of nudity
that depended οη the identity and perspectives of both the viewer and the viewed.
Representations of Female Nudity in Late Antique Art

The depictions of naked women surviving from this peήod are pήmarily found in mosaics
(both domestic and public), and silver objects designed for use duήng the toilet and the bath.
The relevant mateήal also stretches, however, across other silver decorative items, textiles, and
ivoήes. These include ornamental orbiculi and consular diptychs. We need to note immediately,
then, that these examples predominately oήginate from some of the highest levels of society,
from people who could aflΌrd such luxuήous mateήals. The significance of this will be dis
cussed in detail later. Beyond such high-status examples, we will also consider more humble
erotic terracotta lamps and a naked figuήne used in magic. Το end the section, 1 will discuss
baptismal imagery from a lead baptismal tank and a grave stela.
The Pleasures of Elite Life

The first depictions we will consider are those of elite women from mosaics and silverware. The
so-called Dominus Julius mosaic comes from an apsidal room in a pήvate house from late
fourth-century Carthage. Split into three hoήzontal registers, it is centred around a depiction of
a large country villa, with the dominus and domina of the estate being presented with seasonal
produce by their dependents. 37 The vignette of the domina on the top register shows her in the
guise of Venus genetrix: she wears a diaphanous gown that slips off her left shoulder, revealing
the curves of her breasts under the clinging mateήal. Her hair is unbound and falls onto her
shoulders.38 While the woman's image is elevated by the allusion to the goddess, important
modifications anchor it in the mortal realm. The domina holds up a fan to cool herself, and props
herself up οη one arm, relaxing οη a bench. The mosaic is concerned with the representation of
idyllic country life, and in this context the domina as Venus genetrix creates a human parallel to
the fecundity and productivity of the estate.
Two examples of bathing silver preserve depictions of naked women at the baths, attended
by their slaves. The Sevso Casket is a perfume casket dating to the early fifth century and was
used as part of a wealthy woman's toilet set (Figs. 19.2-19.3).39 The body of the casket depicts
two scenes: a procession of slaves carrying toilet objects to a seated woman, and a scene of
bathing that features a woman undressing. Assisted by a fully dressed female slave, she lifts her
tunic up in order to take it off over her head, revealing her lower body. Το the ήght, two naked
women stand with their arms linked, posed like the Graces. The woman removing her tunic is
the domina, and the implication is that, once she is fully naked, she will join the two women and
thus become the third Grace.40
Α silver situla from Naples, dating most probably to the late fourth century, shows a very
similar scene: a woman raises her tunic to reveal her lower body, this time attended by a nude
female slave (Figs . 19.4-19.5).41 Νο Graces are present here, but οη the other side of the situla
we see the seated domina attended by slaves who comb her hair, massage her leg, and bring her
toilet objects. All the figures are completely naked, apart from the domina who wears a body
chain. Ιη these scenes, we are reminded of the everyday relevance of nudity in this period, albeit
elevated by references to the Graces and the pomp and ceremony associated with the public
care of the body. The baths were a place to show off, and the nudity of the women played a part
in the display of wealthy individuals.42 Much like the Piazza Armeήna athletes, the exposure of
these women's bodies is couched both in social practice and the pήvileges of status.
337
Grace Stafford
Figure 19.2 View of the Sevso Casket Showing a Woman Removing Her Tunic and Two Nude
Women (© Hungaήan National Museum)
Breastfeeding
The motif of a woman breastfeeding, familiar from divine paiήngs such as Isis and Horus or
Mary and Jesus, is found with some fi-equency in genre scenes.43 Α set of textile σrbiculi from
fifth- or sixth-century Antinoopolis are decorated with rural scenes including a vignette of a
woman seated cross-legged οη the ground and holding an infant οη her lap who sucks at her
exposed left breast (Fig. 19.6).44 Together with the other figu res οη these σrbiculi, this woman
forms part of an idealised representation of country life. The other scenes include drawing water
fi-om a well, tending sheep and cows, and enjoying a picnic al frescσ. Many of the fi gures are
partially naked, reflecting the simple life associated with this pastoral world. The woman sat
feeding a child represents fertility and abundance. This motif was widespread: we find a similar
version οη the fifth-century mosaic floor of the Church of Saint Stephen at Horvat Be'er
shem'a in Israel.45 Here the figu re is flipped, with the seated woman holding the infant to her
338
Figure 19.3 View of the Sevso Casket Showing a Woman at Her Toilet Attended by Slaves (©
Hungaήan National Museum)
ήght breast. It is unlikely that the couple is meant to represent Mary withJesus, but it is possible
that in a church context it refeπed to more general associations between the relationship of a
nursing mother and her infant οη the one hand, and Chήst or other figu res of authoήty and the
Chήstian faithful οη the other. Since the rest of the mosaic panel is also concerned with pastoral
scenes including animals, grapes, and a shepherd playing the flute, it seems most likely that she
represents a similar idea of abundance, but one that could also be read within a religious
context. Now badly damaged, part of the Great Palace mosaic from Constantinople included a
46
motif of a woman seated οη a chair about to breastfeed an infant. Black and white photos
fi-om Brett's publication show her tunic slipping offher ήght shoulder to expose her chest as she
draws the child close to her; however, parts of the mosaic have since been lost.
It is not possible to deteπnine with certainty if the women shown in these examples are
mothers nursing their own children or if they are wet-nurses. All three depict the women with
hair-coveήngs, and traditionally wet-nurses were shown as older women weaήng a kerchief. 47
Νο indication of age is given for these women, and their hair-coveήngs are tight stretchy caps
rather than loose kerchiefs. Given the pastoral associations, it seems most likely that these
women ought to be understood as mothers nursing their own infants, adding to the idea of a
simple healthy life in the country.
Performers
The two previous sections have considered depictions of women from very different, but
idealised worlds: the elite life of wealthy women, and genre scenes concerned with the pastoral
idyll. The representation of performers, however, concerns a very different class of women.
Most female performers were of low social status and vulnerable to physical and sexual violence,
339
Grace Stafford
Figure 19.4 View ofthe Naples Situla Showing a Naked Woman Attended by Her Slaves (Photo by
author, Naples Archaeological Museum, su concessione del Ministero per ί Beni e le Attivita
Culturali e per il Tuήsmo - Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli)
often considered little better than prostitutes.48 The representation of perfonners is compli
cated, as their iconography is often intertwined with that of the Dionysiac thiasos. It can be
difficult to tel1 the difference between a maenad and a dancer, especially when the image is
removed fi-om its oήginal context. Maenads and Dionysiac scenes, were popular decorative
themes, and they often included partially naked figures engaged in energetic dances and holding
musical instruments.49 Part of this visual ambiguity was ηο doubt intentional, as performers
were hired to create an atmosphere of revelry and pleasure. While we shall here consider
depictions of perfonners shown in varying states of nudity, it is interesting to note that the
majoήty of images of female perfonners that can be positively identified as professionals are
50
shown fully-and often elaborately-dressed.
340
Figure 19.5 View of the Naples Situla Showing a Woman Removing Her Tunic (Photo by author,
Naples Archaeological Museum, su concessione del Ministero per i Beni e le Attivita
Culturali e per il Tuήsmo - Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli)
341
Grace Stafford
Figure 19. 6 Textile orbiculus depicting rural scenes including a woman breastfeeding at the top of the com
position (Brooklyn Museum, Charles Edwin Wilbour Fund, 44.143b, Creative Commons-BY.
Photo: Brooklyn Museum [in collaboration with Index of Christian Art, Princeton University])
Α fourth-century mosaic from Hippo Regius that depicts Aion and the zodiac is also de
corated with theatήcal masks and female figures. They are shown mostly naked: one adjusts her
breastband, another plays a stήnged instrument, and another dances. 51 It has been suggested that
they represent the Seasons, but they appear to lack the appropήate attήbutes and are probably to
be interpreted as performers. 52 Another fourth-century mosaic, this time fi-om Puente Genil in
Spain, depicts a comic scene in which two male pygmies fight a crane in a Geranomachia.53 Το
the ήght of the scene is an older woman with an excessively large nose gestuήng towards the
other figu res. Her tunic has fallen exposing both her breasts, which hang forward as she leans
towards the pygmies. Inscήptions record a dialogue between characters.54 The scene refers to a
comic theatήcal production, and the woman's exposure is part of the grotesque nudity
342
associated with older women.55 Another mosaic that may depict a naked female performer
comes from the baths of the Villa of Santa Vitoήa de Ameixial in Portugal. It depicts a male
figu re in a loincloth beating a naked person with a bundle of twigs, who tήes to protect
themselves with their hands. This naked figure has been interpreted as a woman; however, the
placement of the arms obscures the chest, genitals, and hair, making this difficult to substantiate.
Alexander Puk would see this as a depiction of a stage performance; others have suggested that
it depicts a ήtual act.56
Female performers are also found οη several ivory consular diptychs from the early sixth
century, which bear scenes of games given by the consul, such as theatήcal performances and
57
spectacles involving wild animals. The main section of the leaf is normally dorninated by the
seated consul himself, while vignettes of performers are commonly confined to the lower part.
The representation of the games is usually split into two horizontal registers, with the lower
register displaying a vaήety of different types of performance. The upper register frequently
depicts two women in short, sleeveless tunics that reach to the rnid-thigh, their sex made clear
by folds of mateήal that emphasise their breasts. They lead horses behind them and hold signs or
standards; οη the clearest example these standards bear the sign of the cross.58 The women wear
boots laced up to the rnid-shin, reminiscent of rnilitary clothing, and it seems likely that these
are female performers dressed as Amazons.59 It is possible that such displays were used to open
the games or that women put οη mythological themed shows. Nudity was a common sight at
such games: one diptych panel depicts a troupe of almost completely naked male acrobats.60
Α gilded silver statuette of a woman has been interpreted as a dancer at rest: she sits οη a
stool, with her ήght leg drawn across her left knee.61 Holding her foot with both hands, she
appears to be either putting οη her shoe or taking it off. She wears a short clinging tunic that
reaches just above the knee and is belted below the bust.62 While the short tunic of the diptych
performers was probably part of military-inspired dress, for a dancer it would have allowed for
greater freedom of movement. The pensive nature of this dancer is in stark contrast to the
contorted bodies of Maenads in ecstatic poses, perhaps permitting us a window into a pήvate
moment of reflection before or after a performance. It can be compared with a rare example of
a certain depiction of mortal dancers in a third-century mosaic from Rome showing en
tertainers at a dinner party. Alongside scantily clad male musicians are two female crotala
players, shown dancing energetically and weaήng calf-length diaphanous robes. The creator of
the mosaic has made sure that the viewer can easily see the contours of the bodies of the women
underneath, the curves of their buttocks attracting the eye of the viewer.63
Nudity and Danger: Barbarians and Malicious Magic

Nudity could also signify women in dangerous situations, those who were (or who had been) a
target of attack. Women who expose a breast to feed an infant return several times in depictions
of defeated barbaήans. Οη the early fifth-century Halberstadt consular diptych, the bottom
registers of each leaf show scenes of captives.64 Many of the figures appear in mourning, with
their head in their hands or cornforting one another. Their defencelessness in the face of their
conquerors is illustrated by a naked man, seated οη his shield with his hands tied behind his
back. One of the barbaήan women leans down and holds her left breast out to nurse a naked
child, while another child looks οη from over her shoulder. Α panel from a sixth-century
impeήal diptych, meanwhile, shows barbarian men posed in supplication and two seated
women breastfeeding infants.65
The partial nudity of these women is difficult to read since they combine two "types" of
exposure: intentional exposure of the breast in order to feed a child, and exposure forced οη
343
Grace Stafford
Figure 19. 7 Magical figuήne of a nude woman pierced with pins (Photo © Musέe du Louvre Dist.
RMN-Grand Palais/Georges Poncet)
defeated and vulnerable women. Beth Cohen has noted that while in classical art a woman's
breast could be revealed for a number of reasons, including feeding, erotic imagery, or to indicate
fertility or involvement in sport, the primary use of the iconography of the exposed breast was to
denote violence. Niobids, Amazons, victims of sexual assault, and young women attacked by
centaurs are all shown with one or both breasts exposed.66 While these barbarian women in
tentionally expose themselves to feed children, their vulnerability is underscored by their men
folk: stripped, cowed, and bound. The motif of the barbarian woman caήng for or holding an
infant has a long pedigree in Roman art, and it has been suggested that it functioned to heighten
67
the pathos of scenes of capture and subjugation. It is also possible that their presence is being used
to represent the defeat of an entire people, rather than just an enemy army, in connection with
the tradition of depicting personifications of conquered peoples as female.68 Their semi-nudity
69
could also make reference to wildness or lack of civilisation among their people.
As a liminal state, it was also commonly accepted that nudity made one more vulnerable to
70
magical attack. Α clay figuήne of a kneeling woman with her hands tied behind her back, naked
but for a necklace, was found preserved in a jar alongside a lead tablet inscήbed with a "love spell"
(Fig 19.7).71 The figuήne was pierced with 13 needles in the head, chest, vagina, and anus, while
the spell itself declared the wish of a certain Sarapanιmon to bind a woman called Ptolemais to
him and to prevent her fiυm having a sexual relationship with any other man. The nakedness of
the Ptolemais-figuήne was connected to Sarapammon's sexual desire for her and his wish that ηο
other man would have access to her body. At the same time, it served to expose the necessary
body parts that the spell required be pierced. Violence, nudity, and magic came together in an
attempt to control Ptolemais's bodily autonomy and to satisfy Sarapanιmon's sexual desires.
Erotic Art
While many depictions of naked figu res might be considered to have erotic potential, here Ι
consider art that is explicitly erotic in the sense that it depicts a sexual encounter. Erotic art
declined in Late Antiquity, although sexual motifs continued to appear οη teπacotta lamps
duήng the fourth century, before largely disappeaήng in the fifth. These included scenes not
just of human couples, but also of women and men having sex with animals. One example from
late third- or early fourth-century Athens shows a woman lying οη a bed, having sex with a
344
Figure 19. 8 Mosaic of an Embracing Couple (Photo by author, with the kind permission of the Parco
Archeologico di Morgantina e della Villa Romana del Casale di Piazza Armeήna)
horse.72 Somewhat tame by compaήson is a mosaic from Piazza Armeήna that shows a man and
woman in an embrace (Fig. 19.8).73 Both are partially naked, but it is the woman's body that is
exposed to the viewer: she has her back to us, weaήng a breastband and a loosely draped mantle
that reveals her buttocks. She places her right hand οη the side of her partner's head as if they
are about to kiss. The si gnificance of the scene is debated: the context is clearly Dionysiac, as the
rest of the fi-escoes and mosaics in the room attest, so we may be faced with a depiction of a
maenad and satyr or another mythological pair.74 With ηο strong evidence for a mythological
identification of the couple, however, it seems most probable that it represents a more gen
eralised scene of Bacchic-style pleasure. It is also worth noting that in compaήson to earlier
erotic art, or to the lamps considered above, this scene is less erotic and more romantic.
However, a small fifth- or sixth-century painted motif from a house in Hierapolis seems to
preserve a sex scene similar to those fi-om Pompeii. Although small and damaged, it appears to
show a standing figure bending over a person lying supine οη a couch.75
Baptism
Α small number of depictions survive that show naked female figu res in the context of bap
76
tism. Α late fourth-century marble grave marker from Aquileia was decorated with a scene of
a small naked figu re standing in a large basin, a stream of water pouήng over them from an orb
featuήng a dove, stars, and a crescent. Οη either side are a tree and a male figu re, one togate and
with a nimbus, the other in a short tunic. The central figure being baptised has been
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Grace Stafford
convincingly identified as female because of a lack of male genital features and the presence of a
necklace; however, the accompanying inscήption, unfortunately, gives ηο personal details other
than the day of death.77 The Walesby tank, a lead baptismal tank (probably fourth century),
found in Lincolnshire, presents a badly preserved relief scene of three groups of people in an
architectural setting.78 Οη the left and ήght are groups of three men, and in the centre is a
group of three women. The reliefs are in such bad condition that it is not possible to get an
impression of what they depict fi-om photographs, leaving us to rely οη a drawing made of
them. From the drawing, we see a central woman who is completely naked, flanked by women
who are clothed and heavily draped. It has been traditionally suggested that this represented a
woman baptizand attended by deaconesses; however, other interpretations are possible due to
the difficulty of interpreting the iconography.79
Nudity in these two cases illustrates what was probably real practice: female nakedness
duήng baptism was addressed in multiple contemporary sources. Ιη one memorable tale, a
sixth-century presbyter called Conon was so apprehensive about baptising a particularly
beautiful young woman that he ran away fi-om his monastery and refused to perform the rite. It
was only once John the Baptist had appeared to him and miraculously castrated him that he
contentedly returned to his duties.80 As a more practical response to similar anxieties, the
presence of female attendants was frequendy encouraged in order to maintain social decorum
when it came to baptising women, and the sexes were usually segregated.81 Despite some
concern about the display of women's bodies, nudity duήng baptism was considered essential
for its efficacy, a key part of the ήte of passage. If all parties conducted themselves appropήately,
the naked body could be successfully managed and rationalised.82
Certain patterns emerge fi-om this mateήal. The first is that there is clearly a ήch tradition of
depicting nudity that survived into the fourth and fifth centuήes that is deserving of further study.
Chronologically, the mateήal is strongest in this earlier peήod, and appears to fade duήng the fifth
century, becoming rare duήng the sixth. Nudity is generally treated in a positive way, with most
depictions not intended to highlight helplessness or sexual shame, but to express status, fertility, or
religious conviction. Ιη contrast to previous centuήes, there appears to have been a general
reticence to depict naked women in truly dangerous situations. There are very few representa
tions, for example, of naked female martyrs, despite the fi-equency with which literary sources
descήbed trials in which they were stripped in order to hurniliate them.83 This is in contrast to the
medieval peήod when there developed a taste for the graphic depiction of torture inflicted οη
holy women.84 Along the same lines, the depiction of naked slaves is less common than we might
expect, pήmaήly occurήng in the context of bathing. This is perhaps related to wider trends in
the peήod, which saw the growing populaήty of depicting processions of well-dressed waiting
slaves, in which the luxury of the slaves' clothing was a mark of their owners' status.85 It is also
revealing that despite the populaήty of the motif of the breastfeeding woman in pastoral scenes, it
was not adopted by elite women, who were rarely shown with infants at all.86 Το convey a sirnilar
message of abundance and fertility, the woman in the Dominus Julius mosaic instead aligned
herself with Venus genetrix. It is possible that this choice of representation reflects contemporary
breastfeeding trends among the elite, who were more likely to use wet-nurses.87 Whatever the
significance, there was clearly a divide between how elite women harnessed nudity in their
representation, and how nudity was employed in the depiction of lower-status women.
Patrons and Viewers: Approaches to Iconography

Α key factor in interpreting images is understanding the context of their creation and display.
Who commissioned work and who looked at it? It is usually presumed that a patron or
346
commissioner wanted a certain amount of control over work in order that it reflect their tastes
and desires. They could not control, however, how that image was received by those who
looked at it, which had the potential to generate new meanings and interpretations particular to
the viewer and their identity. Viewers could be very different from patrons, especially when
images were displayed in public places.88 This consideration is particularly relevant to depictions
of nudity because of the spectrum of possible implications outlined above: the meaning of
nudity could be very different depending οη who was naked and who was looking. Far fi:-om
having one single meaning, many of these images probably generated different responses fi:-om
different viewers, which were informed by their own social identity and their relationship to
the image. Ιη this section, 1 will suggest how seήous consideration of the multivalent nature of
our sources can radically change their interpretation and provide us with a more flexible and
productive way of understanding nudity.89
Nudity ίη the Bathhouse: Eroticism or Authority?

The complex relationship between patrons and viewers and the way such perspectives are
employed in scholarship is particularly evident in the treatment of depictions of women
bathing. While the Naples situla has received relatively little attention, the Sevso Casket has
been analysed more extensively as a cσmparandum for famous examples of female toilet scenes
such as the Projecta Casket.90 These scenes are commonly understood to represent women
crafting themselves into luxury objects for male pleasure.91 Female nudity, legitimated by the
bathing context, is seen as highly erotic and intended to arouse the male viewer as voyeur.92
This interpretation places an elite male perspective at the fore, based οη the assumption that the
patrons of such objects were men.93 This assumption supposes that what the caskets illustrate,
therefore, is a male perspective οη female nudity in the context of women cultivating their
bodies to appeal to their husbands. Jas Elsner has however noted that, despite this, the ico
nography of such scenes is undoubtedly female-centred and the objects themselves used by
women in their toilet, concluding that (in the case of the Projecta Casket): 'Ίt was at least
subjected to, if not partially designed for, the female gaze."94 He concedes that women were
not just the passive objects of their husbands' desires, but also could take an active role in
seduction through their own beautification.95
The difficulty with interpreting these images in this way, however, is twofold. First, we do
not know who commissioned these images, and it is iπesponsible to assume a universal male
patron in the absence of evidence. This is especially true in the case of this bathing silver,
recognised as being female-centήc both in iconography and use. While we must be careful to
acknowledge the patήarchal framework around which both women and men negotiated their
identities, it does not help to impose gendered assumptions οη the evidence. Second, it has been
noted that the frank depiction of nudity in the cases of the Sevso Casket and Naples Situla
appears at odds with the more subtle ways in which eroticism is conveyed οη examples like the
Projecta Casket. The Sevso Casket in particular has been descήbed as surpήsing, unusual, and
even troubling.96 How do we address these problems? 1 suggest we begin by examining these
images fi:-om the point of view of the people who used and viewed them rather than those who
may have paid for them, people for whom we have a stronger body of evidence. As noted
above, these were items of silver used duήng bathing, their scenes set in bathhouses.97 While
such objects were used by women and men, their depiction of women going about their toilet
indicates that these examples were pήmaήly intended for use by women. These objects formed
part of the showy displays put οη by wealthy individuals of both sexes at the bathhouse, a
practice that was roundly cήticised by Chήstian and non-Chήstian commentators alike.
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Grace Stafford
Numerous Church Fathers denounced the vanity and pήde demonstrated by such displays,
while Ammianus Marcellinus painted a scathing picture of the socially crass behaviour exhibited
by elite men showing off their clothes, jewellery, slaves, and eunuchs.98 These literary sources
and the scenes themselves remind us that a wealthy woman was not alone in the bathhouse, but
was attended by a company of slaves who took care of all the necessary equipment.99 Nor must
we forget the reason why elite individuals made such a show at the baths: the intention was to
be looked at by others, pήmaήly social infeήors, in order to maintain their position in the social
hierarchy. 100
This gives us three categoήes of people who we can reasonably expect would have inter
acted with these objects: the dσmina who owned them, her slaves who carήed them, and the
onlookers in the bathhouse who admired them. Given social attitudes to nudity and its re
lationship to gender and status, what might the naked bodies of the women have signalled to
each of these groups? For the dσmina, her nudity as represented οη the silverware reflected the
reality of her nudity in the bathhouse. As we have seen, bathing as a social institution in the
fourth and fifth centuήes was still bound up with an idea of nakedness that was dependent οη
status. The chasm that separated the wealthy matron fi-om her slaves or fi-om free people of the
lower orders meant there was ηο shame in appeaήng naked in front of them at the baths.101 Her
social status freed her fi-om such concerns, protected as she was both socially and legally. Her
nudity is, therefore, an expression of status in itself, analogous to her jewellery, fine clothes, or
slaves. The importance of status and power in these images is emphasised by the other scene οη
the Sevso Casket, which shows the dσmina enthroned in a large chair in all her finery, being
waited οη by a queue of slaves who carry her expensive silver equipment.
The slaves may have understood these images as visual manifestations of the power dynamic
that existed between themselves and their mistress. They were the people who would most
likely handle these objects the most, carrying them to and fro and manipulating them to access
their contents for their owners. They therefore had privileged access to images of their own
bodies, eternally placed at the service of the dσmina. The scenes themselves have been shown to
idealise the relationship between mistress and slave, obscuήng the potential for violence and
abuse, and placing emphasis οη the ideal of the obedient servant.102 While we might imagine
that for the slaves these images crystallised their own low status or reminded them that they
lacked protections accorded to their mistress, we can also consider that they had the potential to
embody the high status of such a slave within the slave hierarchy. 103 The body-slaves of elite
women, though of course vulnerable through enslavement, would have been relatively pή
vileged when compared with the slaves of poorer people. Their duties may have been confined
to the care of their mistress, freeing them fi-om manual labour, and allowing them the use of
finer clothes and jewellery themselves. At the baths they may have had a strong perception of
their own status in relation to slaves brought by less wealthy women and developed a sense of
pride connected to the status of their owner. Α naked slave in the service of her mistress was also
probably accorded some level of protection by association, rendeήng her body less vulnerable
than at other times and places. 104
The onlookers at the baths are rather more difficult to pin down, but we can probably be
safe in saying that the majoήty would have been of a lower social status than the matron with
her silver equipment and an entourage of slaves. These spectators would have experienced these
images within the context of the elite woman's display of wealth and position, a display that
cemented her above them in the social hierarchy. We have already considered this distance
from her perspective, but what about theirs? The most immediately striking aspect would
probably have been the nature of the objects themselves: they are large pieces of silver, clearly
expensive. Their size and weight also mean they require careful manipulation, at least one slave
348
per object and sornetirnes two. 105 Such physical properties higWight the labour required to use
this equiprnent and would have also facilitated their display as they were carefully rnoved,
opened, closed, and presented to the domina. The size of the objects helps to rnake their scenes
rnore legible to the viewer, even if one does not have direct access to exarnine thern up close.
We rnight irnagine spectators in the bathhouse rather like rnodern rnuseurn visitors viewing
these objects through glass cases, kept at a distance fi-orn the precious artefacts. Ιη any case, the
irnages οη these objects were even rnore easily viewable through their living counterparts, the
wornen thernselves bathing and at their toilets. While spectators rnay have understood such
scenes as personally erotic or arousing, the social rnake-up of society did not allow for high
6
status wornen to be viewed as passive sexual objects by low-status rnen. 10 Attitudes to gender
and the way it structured society certainly constrained wornen in a rnultitude of ways, but other
vectors of inequality were also significant. Ιη this particular situation, the privilege of wealth and
status trurnped that of gender.
Ιη the context of this bathing silver, the depiction of nudity was a desirable and effective way
of cornrnunicating status and prestige, a powerful rerninder of the double standards that pri
vileged the wealthy. When we exarnine the different perspectives of users and viewers, erotic
responses are in the rninoήty. This is because such responses were only systernatically available
to a srnall nurnber of elite rnen of the sarne or greater status than the domina herself The focus
that scholarship has placed οη this rninoήty elite rnale perspective rnay be explained by the fact
that historically rnany scholars have been elite rnales thernselves. As viewers, they could
naturally situate thernselves in this elevated position. As a result, the responses of the rnajority
have been neglected. Dealing with the irnpact of gender and status is a balancing act: we rnust
fully recognise the effect of patήarchy and class dorninance while at the sarne tirne seeking to
decentre the elite rnale perspective. By thinking carefully about the specific use-patterns of
objects and the audiences for irnages, we can build up a rnore nuanced picture of why the nude
body was still a desirable tool for representation in Late Antiquity. Furtherrnore, we can better
understand the spectrurn of responses it could generate beyond the anxieties of churchrnen or
the desires of ήch rnen.
Bassilla and Helladia: Performing the Self

The specific exarnple of bathing silver discussed above is relatively unusual in allowing us to
identify users and viewers fi-orn different social backgrounds. When approaching other irnages
and objects it is necessary to rnodify our rnethods, consideήng each case οη its own terrns. Ιη
this section, Ι shall exarnine depictions of lower-status wornen-perforrners-cases in which we
know rnore about the people who cornrnissioned the objects concerned than those who
viewed thern.
The depictions of perforrners considered above were rnost likely cornrnissioned by elite in
dividuals, and not by the perforrners thernselves. They consist of cosdy dornestic decoration such
as rnosaics and silverware, or the ivory diptychs distήbuted by officials. High-status patrons chose
several different ways in which to depict perforrners: they showed thern in the rniddle of a
routine, both ήcWy dressed and scantily clad, or in a rnornent of repose. The reaction of per
forrners thernselves to their representation in elite houses is not known, although they rnay well
have corne face to face with thern when hired for pήvate perforrnances. 107 If we turn away fi-orn
viewers and back to patrons, it is revealing to cornpare the representational choices rnade by these
elite individuals to those rnade by perforrners thernselves and rnernbers of their peer group.
Αη early third-century funerary stela fi-orn Aquileia cornrnernorates a rnirne actress called
Bassilla: she is shown in bust forrn above the inscription, fully dressed in an elaborate
349
Grace Stafford
Figure 19. 9 Tomb Stele of the Mime Actress Bassilla (Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Aquileia, photo
Museid Italia, Creative Commons BY-NC-ND 4.0)
contemporary hairstyle and with her ήght hand held raised across her chest in the speaking pose
(Fig. 19.9). The inscήption, dedicated by a fellow mime actor called Heraclides οη behalf of the
wider community, lauds Bassilla as a talented and well-known performer and "the tenth
Muse." 108 Bassilla was clearly proud of her profession, and the intention of the portrait and
inscription appears to be to hail her as an intellectually cultivated woman.109 This erudition is
directly linked to her status as a performer. We may find this somewhat surpήsing given that
mimes were not seen as a form of high art but were better known for their ήsque themes, with
surviving scήpts indicating that female actors were commonly involved in scenes of adultery.
Before her conversion and repentance, Saint Pelagia had been a mime actress, her status as a
350
perfoπner blurήng with that of a prostitute.110 The most notoήous of all mime perfoπners was
of course the sixth-century Empress Theodora (r. 527-548), who was described by a con
temporary, Procopius, as giving perfoπnances weaήng only a loincloth and involving a well
trained goose.111 Ιη theory, mime actors were tainted with infamia; however, Bassilla,
Heraclides, and their peers had different ideas about what marked them out in society. The
tomb stela not only honours Bassilla as an individual but also her wider community. They see
themselves as skilled people who remember their own and take great care to curate their
memory.
An ivory comb from fifth- or sixth-century Antinoopolis depicts a woman called Helladia as
112
the victor of a pantomime contest (Fig. 19 .1 Ο). The body of the comb shows a central figure
assumed to be Helladia, flanked by a man and a woman. Helladia is shown weaήng a long
sleeved tunic belted under the bust and decorated at the collar and hem. Over her gaπnent, she
wears a sash across her chest and holds aloft in her ήght hand an object that may be a victor's
wreath. The other figu res have been identified as members of her chorus.113 Above and below
the scene (οη the front and back of the comb) is an inscription added after it was made, which
reads: "Long Live Helladia's fortune and the Blues! Amen!"114 Ultimately, we do not know
who commissioned this comb, but it seems probable that it was owned and/or commissioned
either by Helladia herself or one of her fans, presumably someone within her social circle at the
very least. It honours Helladia ήght at the moment of her tήumph, as cultivated and talented as
Bassilla appears in her funerary image.
Both these examples pήoήtise the depiction of these actresses as proud and successful
women, valued by their communities for their skills. There is ηο hint of nudity or sexuality,
despite the association between mime and pantomime with erotic themes and the common
assumption that perfoπners were little better than sex workers. Without the inscήption, we
would have ηο way of differentiating Bassilla fi-om any number of other third-century women.
These women reveal the importance of relative status in structuήng hierarchies and identities.
For elite people, their position was deteπnined not just by the absolute possession of wealth or
high birth, but also through compaήson with people of lower status. They could not place
themselves at the top of the pyramid if there was nobody at the bottom. The rich therefore
constructed their visual identities in opposition to others, with depictions of lower-status in
dividuals such as slaves or perfoπners used as a vehicle to demonstrate unequal power re
lationships. When performers represented themselves, however, they were free to construct
their identities more οη their own teπns. While an elite person may have chosen to decorate
their home with a mosaic of actors performing a mime, Bassilla's community chose to represent
her as a respectable and intellectually cultivated woman in the most popular contemporary
fashion. Helladia related her skill as a perfoπner not to the pleasure she could provide to an elite
audience, but to the skill associated with victory in a contest, combining highly specific pan
tomime imagery with traditional agσnistic motifs and her factional allegiance.115
That both Bassilla and Helladia are shown ήchly dressed reflects the fact that in reality, both
were more vulnerable than their elite counterparts and therefore did not have the same freedom
to play with nudity like the dσminae οη our bathing silver. It may also speak to an understanding
of their own identity that prised intellectual achievement and professional success above bodily
beauty and sexuality. Nudity was a tool that could be used or eschewed by individuals as a way
of constructing their own identity in relation to that of others. It could be imposed or ignored
depending οη the intentions of the commissioner of the image, their own conception of their
position in society, and pήoήties for self-representation. This position, however, was specific to
the community and class to which they belonged. Αη actress might be considered low status
from the perspective of an aristocrat---;;exually vulnerable, and perhaps legally restricted-but to
351
Grace Stafford
Figure 19.1Ο Front View of the Comb of Helladia (Photo © RMN-Grand Palais (musee du Louvre)/
Gerard Blot)
352
herself and her fellow actors she could be a prominent member of the community, respected for
her talent and years of expeήence. 116
Conclusions
From the analysis of sources in this chapter, it is evident that the tήumph of Chήstianity did not
mark the immediate demise of the nude body as an artistic device. The visual landscape was
shifting duήng Late Antiquity, but this was marked as much by continuation of traditions as by
their disappearance. Ιη approaching this topic, it is important to think not only about choices in
the production of new art, but also the retention of pre-existing art. While emperors ceased to
be depicted naked, for example, statues of their predecessors as heroic nudes often remained οη
display. 117 Α new god had overtaken the old ones, but naked deities and personifications
118
continued to populate the urban environment well into the sixth century. Gods and heroes
held strong οη luxury items into the seventh century, and while traditional forms of erotic art
declined, they did not do so as quickly as we might expect. From this perspective, the nude
representation of real people does not seem so strange; classical tradition was a heavy yoke to
remove. Duήng the fourth and even fifth centuήes there was still room in social discourse for
the deployment of the naked body, even the nakedftmale body, in a wide range of visual media.
The complex nature of nudity and its relationship to gender, status, and identity, however,
requires that we look carefully at both the range of our surviving evidence and the specific
context of each individual image.
We must also be alert to accidents of preservation in the mateήal record. If Pompeii had not
been destroyed by the volcanic eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in AD 79 and therefore not so well
preserved, how much poorer would the state of our knowledge about erotic art in the impeήal
peήod be? And, as the erotic painting fi-om Hierapolis reminds us, if a late antique city had been
conserved as well as Pompeii perhaps our story would be very different. Indeed, the wealth of
erotic epigrams preserved fi-om sixth-century Constantinople suggests that surviving mateήal
culture does not give us the full story.119 InJune 1898 Alois Musil gazed for the first time οη
the fabulous eighth-century paintings of an Umayyad bathhouse in what is now theJordanian
desert. Built as a retreat for a Muslim pήnce, Qusayr Άmra was peopled with naked figures in
abundance: bathing women and scantily clad female entertainers adorned its walls, boldly
flouting contemporary ethical norms. 120 Yet the Umayyads's attitude to nudity in art was
complicated, despite the stήct moral stance of the Qur'an, and from an iconographical per
spective drew οη the ήch traditions of both the Late Roman Empire and the Sassanians. 121 The
thread that connects our sources to these later images may be thin, but it is clearly visible.
Despite hostile religious rhetoήc, the draw of the naked body remained irresistible.
Notes
1 1 am grateful to Ine Jacobs and Peter Stewart for commenting οη drafts of this chapter. All eπors, of
course, remain my own.
2 Elizabeth Clark, "1990 Presidential Address: Sex, Shame, and Rhetoήc: En-Gendeήng Early
rif
Chήstian Ethics," Journal the American Academy of Religion 59.2 (1991): 221-45, οη the develop
ment of a rhetoήc of shame and sin in relation to sex, with particular reference to nudity 237-8.
3 Kyle Harper, From Shame to Sin: The Christian Transformation rif
Sexual Morality in Late Antiquity
(Cambήdge, ΜΑ: HUP, 2013), 2, 66-9, with particular reference to erotic scenes οη lamps. Οη
erotic art in general for the Greek and Roman periods, Amy Richlin, ed., Pornography and
Representation in Greece and Rome (Oxford: OUP, 1992); Natalie Kampen, Sexuality in Ancient Art:
Near East, Egypt, Greece and Italy (Cambήdge: CUP, 1996); John Clarke, Looking at Lovemaking:
353
Grace Stafford
Constructions of Sexuality in Roman Art, 100 BC - AD 250 (Berkeley: UCP, 2001); Caroline Vout,
Sex on Show: Seeing the Erotic in Greece and Rome (London: British Museum, 2013).
4 Emperors: Chήstopher Hallett, The Roman Nude: Heroic Portrait Statuary 200 BC- AD 300 (Oxford:
OUP, 2005), 264-9. And οη the decline of nudity as a costume type, R.R.R. Smith, "Statue
Practice in the Late Roman Empire," in The Last Statues of Antiquity, eds. R.R.R. Smith and Β.
Ward-Perkins (Oxford: OUP, 2016), 13-5. Erotic art: Harper, Shame to Sin, 66-9. There is some
archaeological evidence for the destruction or mutilation of nude statues, however, the practice was
localised and could respond to a vaήety of stimuli. Οη this practice, see Ine Jacobs, "Production to
Destruction? Pagan and Mythological Statuary in Asia Minor," American ]ournal of Archaeology 114.2
(2010): 267-303, esp. 278-9, 281-2, 288; Panayiotis Panayides, "Castrating the Gods of Salamis: Α
Case Study οη the Sexual Mutilation of Statuary in Late Antiquity," in Salamis of Cyprus: History and
Archaeology from the Earliest Times to Late Antiquity, eds. S. Rogge et al. (Mίinster: Waxmann Verlag
GmbH, 2019), 706-18.
5 Peter Stewart, "Nacktheit 11 (Ikonographie)," in Reallexikonfur Antike und Christentum 22 (Stuttgart:
Hiersemann, 2013), 630-51, here, 646-8. Mythological nudity was particularly popular οη silver
ware, see Ruth Leader-Newby, Silver and Society in Late Antiquity: Functions and Meanings of Silver
Plate in the Fourth-Seventh Centuries (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004), 123-71; Susanne Moraw, "Ίdeale
Nacktheit' oder Diskreditierung eines ίiberkommenen Heldenideals?," in Original und Kopie. Formen
und Konzepte der Nachahmung in der antiken Kunst, eds. Κ. Junker and Α. Stahli (Wiesbaden: Reichert,
2008), 213-26. Mythological statuary, including nude figu res, also had long lives in Late Antique
public spaces, see Ine Jacobs and Lea Stirling, "Re-using the Gods: Α 6th-c. Statuary Display at
Sagalassos and a Re-evaluation of Pagan Mythological Statuary in Early Byzantine Civic Space,"
]ournal of Roman Archaeology 30 (2017): 196-226.
6 Οη nudity in Byzantine art: John Hanson, 'Έrotic Imagery οη Byzantine Ivory Caskets," in Desire
and Denial in Byzantium, ed. L. James (Aldershot: Ashgate, 1999), 171-84; Henry Maguire, "The
Profane Aesthetic in Byzantine Art and Literature," DOP 53 (1999): 200-3; 'Όther Icons: The
Classical Nude in Byzantine Bone and lvory Carvings," The ]ournal of the Walters Art Museum 62
(2004): 9-20.
7 Hallett, Roman Nude, esp. Chapter 3. Οη the nude costume type see Laήssa Bonfante, "Nudity as
Costume in Classical Art," American Journal of Archaeology 93.4 (1989): 543-70, and for women in the
gu ise ofVenus see also Henning Wrede, Consecratio in Formam Deorum. Vergottlichte Privatpersonen in
der romischen Kaiserzeit (Mainz am Rhein: Von Zabern, 1981), 292-337; Ενe D'Ambra, "The
Calculus ofVenus: Nude Portraits of Roman Matrons," in Sexuality in Ancient Art: Near East, Egypt,
Greece and Italy, ed. Ν.Β. Kampen (Cambήdge: CUP, 1996), 219-32.
8 For just some examples from many, see Tertullian, On the Soul, 38.2; Cypήan, On the Dress of Virgins,
19; Clement of Alexandήa, Paedagogus, 2.2, 2.6; Jerome, Ep. 107.11; Palladius, Dialogue on the Life of
]ohn Ch rysostom, 109, 16-9. See Panayides, "Castrating the Gods", οη Epiphanius's attitudes to
nudity in the baths and the mutilation of naked statuary in Salamis.
9 Jonathan Smith, "The Garments of Shame," History of Religions 5.2 (1966): 217-38, here 218-22;
Robin Jensen, Understanding Early Christian Art (London: Roudedge, 2000), 171-82; Thomas
Mathews, "La nudita nel cήstianesimo," in Dalla cittά pagana alla cittά cristiana, ed. S. Ensoli (Aurea
Roma: L'Erma di Bretschneider, 2000), 396-8; Mati Meyer 'Ένe's Nudity. Α Sign of Shame or a
Precursor of Christological Economy?," in Between Judaism and Christianity. Art Historical Essays in
Honor of Elisheva Revel-Neher, eds. Κ. Kogman and Μ. Meyer (Leiden: Bήll, 2009), 243-58; Stewart,
"Nacktheit," 645, 648-50. Οη nudity in Jewish art, see Waπen Μοοη, "Nudity and Naπative:
Observations οη the Frescoes from the Dura Synagogue," ]ournal of the American Academy of Religion
60.4 (1992): 587-658.
10 Jensen, Early Christian Art, 175-7; Stewart, "Nacktheit," 645.
11 One famous example includes the tale recounted by the fifth-century bishop Quodvultdeus about a
girl possessed by a demon. She had been at the baths when she saw a statue of nude Venus and
imitated its pose, thereby offeήng herself to the malevolent spiήt dwelling within, who rushed in
through her mouth. Eventually the girl was exorcised, and the statue destroyed (text and translation
in Gilbert Picard, "Venus et la possedee de Carthage," Bulletin de lα Sociέtέ Nationale des Antiquaires de
France (1986): 60-2, further discussion 59-70).
12 The exposure of one or more breasts had a long pedigree in classical art. Beth Cohen has called it
"without exception, the classic choice of partial physical exposure for female representations"
("Divesting the Female Breast of Clothes in Classical Sculpture," in Naked Truths: Women, Sexuality,
354
and Gender in Classical Art and Archaeology, eds. Ο. Koloski-Ostrow et al. [London: Roudedge], 70).
Ιη this same paper, Cohen explores the vaήety of contexts in which breasts were depicted in art.
13 Hallett, Roman Nude, 61-2; Stewart, "Nacktheit," 630.
14 Sherry Lindquist, "The Meanings ofNudity in Medieval Art: Αη Introduction," in The Meanings rif
Nudity in Medieval Art, ed. S. Lindquist (Farnham: Ashgate, 2012), 2.
15 Maήlyn Skinner, Sexuality in Greek and Roman Culture (Chichester: Wiley & Sons, 2014), 194-8.
16 Ενeη ascetic women could not truly escape the shackles oftheir physical bodies. Οη the exposure of
the naked bodies of holy women who had disguised themselves as monks, see Κristi Upson-Saia,
Early Christian Dress: Gender, Virtue, and Authority (London: Roudedge, 2011), 94-6.
17 Martha Roth, Law Collections from Mesopotamia and Asia Minor. SBL Writings from the Ancient World 6
(Adanta: Scholars Press, 1997), 167-9.
18 For the legal and social status of prostitutes in the Roman peήod see Thomas McGinn, Prostitution,
Sexuality and the Law in Ancient Rome (Oxford: OUP, 1998). Note their stήpping naked at the
Floralia as a sign of their "total lack ofhonor" (26), and 160-1 οη clothing and respectability. See
e.g., Jane Gardner, Women in Roman Law and Society (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1986),
132-4 οη prostitutes and 205-9 οη slave women; Kyle Harper, Slavery in the Late Roman World, AD
275-425 (Cambήdge: CUP, 2011), 304-4, 445-7 (esp. 306 οη clothing). Prostitutes were often also
enslaved, both groups considered as lacking sexual honour. The humiliation ofslaves was connected
to nudity, e.g., at the slave market or to facilitate corporal punishment (Harper, Slavery, 98, 292-3
[market], 207, 219, 231 [punishment]). Οη nudity in the context ofpunishment and humiliation of
pήsoners, criminals, and slaves, see Hallett, Roman Nude, 63-7.
19 For attitudes to mixed and segregated bathing, see Roy Ward, "Women in Roman Baths," The
Harvard Theological Review 85.2 (1992): 142-6; Alissa Whitmore, "Small Finds and the Social
Environment ofthe Roman Baths" (PhD thesis, University oflowa, 2013), 29-35. Οη mythological
statuary, see Lea Stirling, The Learned Collector: Mythological Statuettes and Classical Taste in Late Antique
Gaul (Αηη Arbor: UMP, 2005).
20 E.g., Anise Strong, Prostitutes and Matrons in the Roman World: (Cambήdge: CUP, 2016), 118-41 οη
looking at erotic imagery and telling the difference between wives and prostitutes in Roman sex
scenes.
21 Οη this mosaic, see Andrea Carandini, Adreina Ricci and Maήette de Vos, Filosofiana. The Villa rif
rif
Piazza Armerina: The Image α Roman Aristocrat at the Time of Constantine (Paleπno: S. F. Flaccovio,
1982), 78, 146-56; Hugh Lee, 'Άthletics and the Bikini Girls from Piazza Armeήna," Stadion 10
(1984): 45-76; Gino Vinicio Gentili, La Villa Romana di Piazza Armerina Palazzo Erculio, Vol 2.
(Osimo: Fondazione Don Carlo, 1999), 66-9.
22 Lewd dancing girls: John Balsdon, Roman Women: Their History and Habits (London: The Bodley
Head, 1962). 274; Aquatic mime: Biagio Pace, Ι mosaici di Piazza Armerina (Roma: G. Casini, 1955),
77-85; Water ballet: Margarette Bieber, The History of the Greek and Roman Theater (Pήnceton: PUP,
1961), 237; Perfonners ofsome kind, descήbed as "bathing girls": Katherine Dunbabin, The Mosaics
rifRoman North Africa: Studies in Iconography and Patronage (Oxford: CP, 1978), 209. For discussions of
early responses to the mosaic, see Lee, "Bikini Girls," nt. 1; Roger Wilson (Piazza Απηeήηa [St
Albans: Granada Publishing, 1983]) compares them to dancing girls that distracted men (94), and
seems unconvinced that they are engaged in athletic competition, citing (incorrectly) that one of
them holds a tambouήne (41).
23 Gino Vinicio Gentili, The Imperial Villa of Piazza Armerina (Rome: lstituto Poligrafico dello Stato,
1956), 43-4 had considered them to be engaged in athletic exercises after a bath, but then cited
Pace's theory as an alternative without any effort to refute it. Carandini et al. (Filosofiana, 78, 154)
rej ected the ideas that the mosaic represented a mime or other entertainment and suggested that it
may depict games. They still noted, however, that the "scanty costume ...forcefully recalls" the
licentious entertainments of the peήod, but that it need not have a connection to it (78). While
others accepted that the women were athletes, it was Lee who first pursued the idea in detail (Lee,
"Bikini Girls").
24 Isabella Baldini Lippolis, 'Άdetismo femminile e ideologia aήstocratica nel programma decorativo
della Villa di Piazza Απηeήηa," in Atti del ΧΙΙΙ Colloquio AISCOM (Tivoli, 2007), 347-54,
here 351-2.
25 Sofie Remijsen, The End of Greek Athletics in Late Antiquity (Cambήdge: CUP, 2015), 140-1.
26 Konstantinos Mantas, "Women and Athletics in the Roman East," Nikephoros 8 (1995): 125-44;
Baldini Lippolis, 'Άdetismo Femminile"; Donald Kyle, "Greek Female Sport: Rites, Running and
355
Grace Stafford
Racing," in Companion to Sport and Spectacle in Greek and Roman Antiquity, eds. Ρ. Chήstesen and
D.G. Kyle (Chichester: Wiley Blackwell, 2013), 258-75, here 27(}-2; Thomas Scanlon, "Racing for
Hera: Α Girl's Contest at Olympia," in Sport in the Greek and Roman Worlds: Greek Athletic Identities
and Roman Sports and Spectacle, ed. Τ. Scanlon (Oxford: OUP, 2014), 117-9; Kathήn Schade,
"Paulina beim Faustkampf. Geschlechterrollentausch auf romischen Κindersarkophagen," in Miidchen
im Altertum / Girls in Antiquity, ed. S. Moraw (Mίinster: Waxman, 2014), 335-46, here 337-8;
Remijsen, Greek Athletics, 102-3, 141. Women also continued to be involved in the administration
of games in Late Antiquity: a verse epitaph from Paros (c. 300) honours a local gymnasiarch called
Aurelia Leite and her efforts to rebuild the gynmasium (Mantas, "Women and Athletics," 142, IG
ΧΙΙ 5, 929).
27 Remijsen, Greek Athletics, 140, IG XIV 502.
28 Involvement in childhood athletics was reserved for members of the upper classes; aήstocratic status
could therefore be recognized through participation in competition, both for boys and girls (Baldini
Lippolis, 'Άdetismo Femminile," 352).
29 Lisa Albeήci and Mary Harlow 'Άge and Innocence: Female Transitions to Adulthood in Late
Antiquity," Hesperia Supplements 41 (2007): 193-203; Schade, "Paulina," 337-8; Lauren Caldwell,
Roman Girlhood and the Fashioning ofFemininity (Cambήdge: CUP, 2015), 79-104. See, e.g., Rufus of
Ephesus οη controlling girls' diets in general (cited in Oήbasius. Οήb. Coll. Med. 4: Lib. Inc. 18.10,
translations cited in Albeήci and Harlow, Age and Innocence, 196-7) and οη food tήggeήng sexual
desire (18.2), and Soranus οη gende exercise to promote the onset of menarche (Gyn. 1.5.25). Α
limited amount of exercise was thought to produce the heat needed to counteract the excessive
moisture that caused sexual desire. Rufus prescήbes walking, running, "rolling in the dust" (wres
ding?), playing ball games, dancing, and singing. (Caldwell, Roman Girlhood, 90; Rufus cited in
Oήbasius Coll. Med. Lib. Inc. 18.11-15).
30 Cf., a third-century sarcophagus from Rome of six-year-old Paulina, which shows her nude as an
athletic victor in multiple contests, including the pankration. She was too young to have actually
competed in such contests, so we should probably read this choice of representation as a desire to
express her fortitude and bravery, as well as a reference to the little girl as a victor over death (Schade,
"Paulina").
31 Vanessa Fήedman, Alessandra Arezzi Boza, and Armando Chitolina, eds., Emilio: Pucci Fashion
Story (Koln: Tashen, 2010). The caption for this image in the 2010 publication of Pucci's design
history still refers to the women as dancers, not athletes.
32 See note 9.
33 Hallett, Roman Nude, 264--69.
34 This appears to be the logic of Mathews "(La nudita nel cήstianesimo)", who takes the literary
sources at face value concerning Chήstian prudishness towards public nudity, and Hallett, who
declared nude portraits of Constantine "nothing short of astonishing" due to Christian hostility to
nude images (Hallett, Roman Nude, 268). Guy Metraux ("Prudery and Chic in Late Antique
Clothing," in Roman Dress and the Fabrics of Roman Culture, ed. J.C. Edmondson [Toronto:
University of Toronto Press, 2008] 271-94, at 274) has even stated that: "For ordinary humans ... the
third century was the last century of nudity: in general, living or dead individuals came to eschew
nudity in matters of self-representation, especially women."
35 Οη portrait sculpture in Late Antiquity, see R.R.R. Smith and Bryan Ward-Perkins, eds., The Last
Statues of Antiquity (Oxford: OUP, 2016). Οη the continued production of statuettes, see Stirling,
Learned Collector.
36 The evidence below is not intended to be entirely exhaustive but is, Ι believe, illustrative of evidence
at our disposal.
37 Alfred Merlin, "La Mosaϊque du Seigneur Julius a Carthage," Bulletin archeologique du Comite des
travaux historiques et scientifiques (1921): 95-114; Dunbabin, Mosaics, 119-21; Darrnon Ennaϊfer, "Life
οη the Great Estates," in Mosaics ofRoman Africa: Floor Mosaics from Tunisia, ed. Μ. Blanchard-Lemee
(London: Bήtish Museum, 1996), 167-88.
38 Compare with other depictions of Roman women as Venus, see D'Ambra, "Calculus of Venus";
Rosemary Barrow and Michael Silk, Gender, Identity, and the Body in Greek and Roman Sculpture
(Cambridge: CUP, 2018), 110-22.
39 See Marlia Mango and Anna Bennett, "The Sevso Treasure Part 1," ]ournal of Roman Archaeology
Supplementary Series 12 (Αηη Arbor: JRA, 1994), 444-73.
356
40 Kathήn Schade, Frauen in der Spiitantike: Status und Repriisentation (Mainz: Philipp νοη Zabern,
2003), 135.
41 Jutta Dresken-Weiland, 'Έine spatantike Situla irn Archaologischen Nationalrnuseurn in Neapel," in
BOREAS Bild-und Formensprache der spiitantiken Kunst, Hugo Brandenburg zum 65 Geburtstag (Mίinster:
Boreas, 1994), 39-48. The Naples situla has been treated as a work of the first century BCE, first
century CE, and third century CE; however, it is clear frorn the iconography and rnethods of
decoration that it is late antique, Dresken-Weiland preferήng the second half of the fourth century
(43). While in theory the raising of the tunic in these two scenes could be a reference to the rare
iconographic type of Venus Anasyrma, such a pose is rnore cornrnonly associated with irnages of
Herrnaphroditus and Priapus. Most cornrnon duήng the Hellenistic peήod, the rarity of this forrn,
argues strongly that it is not the point of reference here (Dresken-Weiland, 'Έine spatantike" Situla,
44; Μ. Fink, ""Nactke Gottin" un Anasyrornene. Zwei Motive - eine Deutung?" Chronique
d'Egypte LXXXIII 165-6 (2008): 289-317).
42 Garrett Fagan, Bathing in Public in the Roman World (Αηη Arbor: UMP, 1999), esp. 215-7.
43 Οη breastfeeding in classical art see Laήssa Bonfante, "Nursing Mothers in Classical Art," in Naked
Truths: Women, Sexuality, and Gender in Classical Art and Archaeology, eds. Αηη Olga Koloski-Ostrow
et al. (London: Roudedge, 1997), 174-96, which considers in particular how the iconography was
rnuch rnore popular in Italy than in Greece. Οη the significance of Mary's exposed breast, see
Margaret Miles, "The Virgin's One Bare Breast," in The Expanding Discourse: Feminism and Art
History (New York: Harper Collins, 1992), 27-38.
44 Kurt Weitzrnann, Age of Spirituality: Late Antique and Early Christian Art, Third to Seventh Century
(New York: Metropolitan Museurn of Art, 1977), 227-30, here 227; Maήe-Helene Rutschowscaya,
Coptic Fabrics (Paήs: Adarn Biro, 1990), 102, 104-5, who connects thern to the populaήty of pastoral
poetry. The close sirnilaήties between the wornan frorn the Egyptian textile and the Israeli rnosaic
suggest that they rnay have been based οη a pattern book.
45 Frorn the rnosaic of the eastern part of the nave, one of the 55 "inhabited" vine scrolls with different
hurnan and anirnal figures. Dan Gazit and Υeshayahu Lender, "The Church of St. Stephen at Horvat
Be'er-shem'a," in Ancient Churches Revealed, ed. Υ. Tsafήr Gerusalem: Israel Exploration Society,
1993), 273-6, Plate ΧΧ.Ε; Rina Talgam, Mosaics of Faith: Floors of Pagans,Jews, Samaritans, Christians,
and Muslims in the Holy Land Gerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi Press, 2014), 89, 152, 173, 196-7, 235, 328.
Οη inhabited scrolls as a motif, see Rachel HacWili, Ancient Mosaic Pavements. Themes, Issues, and
Trends: Selected Studies (Leiden: Bήll, 2009), 111-48.
46 Gerard Brett, "The Mosaic of the Great Palace in Constantinople," ]ournal of the Warburg and
Courtauld Institutes 5 (1942): 37, Plates 1 la-b.
47 Maureen Carroll, Infancy and Earliest Childhood in the Roman World (Oxford: OUP, 2018), 120,
134. See also 133-4, 144-6, 224-8, 230 οη mothers and wet-nurses breastfeeding in Roman art.
48 Ruth Webb, Demons and Dancers: Performance in Late Antiquity (Cambridge, ΜΑ.: HUP, 2008), 47-9.
49 See, e.g., several of the silver items from the Mildenhall Treasure such as the Great Dish and Bacchic
Plates (Richard Hobbs, The Mildenhall Treasure [London: Bήtish Museum, 2012]).
50 See, e.g., the mosaic depicting a troupe of female musicians from a dining room in Syria (Bente
Κiileήch, "The Mosaic of the Female Musicians from Maήamin, Syήa," Acta ad Archaeologiam et
Artium Historiam Pertinentia, 22 (2011): 87-107.) and the beautiful seήes of mosaics from another
dining room at a villa in Noheda in Spain, showing a company of theatήcal perforrners of both sexes
(M.A.V. Tevar, "The Late-antique villa at Noheda (Villar de Domingo Garcίa) near Cuenca and Its
Mosaics, "]ournal of Roman Archaeology 26.1 (2013): 307-30; M.A.V. Tevar, 'Έl tricilinum de la villa de
Noheda (Villar de Domingo Garcίa, Cuenca)," in eds. S. DeGregoήo and R. Kershaw, La villa
restaurata e i nuovi studi sull'edilizia residenziale tardoantica. Atti del Convegno Internazionale del Centro
Interuniversitario di Studi sull'Edilizia abitativa tardoantica nel Mediteraneo (CISEM) (Piazza Armerina
7-10 novembre 2012) (Βaή: Edipuglia 2014), 521-31.
51 Only two of the female figures are completely preserved (the musician and the woman adjusting her
breastband). Paήsh notes that a third partially preserved woman appears to dance, while Marec refers
to the figu res as a musician, a nude dancer, and a tragedian. It appears that the fourth figure is lost. Ε.
Marec, Hippone lα Royale. Antique Hippo Regius (Algiers: Impήmeήe Of!icielle, 1954), 47, Fig 21; D.
Parήsh, "The Mosaic of Aion and the Seasons from Haidra (Tunisia): Αη Interpretation of its
Meaning and Importance," Antiquite Tardive 3 (1995): 180, Fig 17.
52 Parήsh, "Mosaic of Aion", 180; Alexandra Croom, Roman Clothing and Fashion (Stroud: Tempus,
2000), 94, Fig. 44.1.
357
Grace Stafford
53 Alexander Puk, Das romische Spielewesen in der Spiitantike (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2014), 349, Tafel 120,
Abb. 160.
54 For text and translation see Puk, Das romische, 349, nt. 384.
55 Οη attitudes to elderly women and stereotypes in satire of the "sexually voracious old hag," see Mary
Harlow and Ray Laurence, Growing Up and Growing Old in Ancient Rome: Α Life Course Approach
(London: Roudedge, 2002), 127-9. Glen Bowerstock (Mosaics as History [Cambήdge, ΜΑ: Belknap
Press ofHUP, 2006], 54-63) suggests that much of the mythological imagery that survives in forms
such as mosaic actually alludes to mime performances.
56 Pons Μ. Guardia, Los Mosaicos de lα Antiguedad Tardίa en Hispania: Estudios Iconografia (Barcelona:
PPU, 1992), 256-8, Fig 108; Puk, Das romische, 349-50, nt. 384.
57 Οη such diptychs in general, see Alan Cameron, "Consular Diptychs in Their Social Context: New
Eastern Evidence," ]ournal of Roman Archaeology 11 (1998): 384-403; "The Oήgin, Context and
Function of Consular Diptychs," JRS 103 (2013): 174-207.
58 Volbach, Elfenbeinarbeiten, Νο.18, Plate 8, and for other examples, Nos. 16, 20, 21.
59 Compare with the mosaic floor from the Nile Festival Building at Sepphoήs in Lower Galilee from
the fifth century, which depicts Amazons dancing. It has been suggested that these figures also
represent a theatήcal performance rather than a purely mythological scene. This is a more difficult
conclusion to substantiate, however, because the mosaic is so damaged. Οη the mosaic, see Zeev
Weiss, "The Mosaics of the Nile Festival Building at Sepphoήs and the Legacy of the Antiochene
Tradition," in Between Judaism and Christianity. Art Historical Essays in Honor of Elisheva Revel-Neher,
eds. Κ. Kogman and Μ. Meyer (Leiden: Bήll, 2008), 13-14, Fig 4 (who suggests the Amazons are
entertaining others of their group seated in the mosaic); for the suggestion they are performers, see
Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 361.
60 Wolfgang Volbach, Elfenbeinarbeiten der Spatantike und des fruhen Mittelalters (Zweite Auflage:
Mainz, 1952), Νο.18, Plate 8.... etc. Νο. 19, Plate 9.
61 It is dated to the late fourth century, place of origin unknown beyond Eastern Greece, height 12 cm
(Alicia Walker Kalavrezou, ed., Byzantine Women and Their World [Cambridge, ΜΑ: HUP, 2003],
149, Νο. 72, with further bibliography). The pose of the figure is sirnilar to the famous Spinario
statue, but the context here is clearly different. The pose is also sirnilar, but not identical, to that of
the nymph from the statue group "Αη Invitation to the Dance," in which a nymph puts οη her sandal
to dance with a satyr (οη this group see D. Μ. Bήnkerhoff, 'Έxamples of the Hellenistic Statue
Group, "The Invitation to the Dance" and Their Significance," American ]ournal of Archaeology 69.1
(1965): 25-37). Our figu re, however, appears more pensive.
62 It is her short, clinging tunic, and the act of attending to her shoe, which appear to be the strongest
arguments for this statuette representing a dancer. It is of course possible that this interpretation is
incorrect, in which case the significance of the statuette remains unknown.
63 Katheήne Dunbabin, "Nec grave nec infacetum: The Imagery of Convivial Entertainment," in Das
romische Bankett im Spiegel der Altertumswissenschaften, ed. Κ. Vossing (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag,
Fig 10; Β. Andreae et al., Museo Ρίο Clementino (Cortile Ottagono, 1998).
64 Richard Delbrίick, Consulardiptychen und verwandte Denkmiiler (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1929), 87-93;
Volbach, Elfenbeinarbeiten, 42-3, Νο. 35, Plate 19.
65 Volbach, Elfenbeinarbeiten, Νο. 49, Plate 26; Delbrίick, Consulardiptychen, 196-200, Νο. 49, Plate 49.
Although earlier than our peήod and not defeated barbaήans, a small sub-group of Palmyrene fu
nerary reliefs show adult women mourning their children with exposed chests and visible scratch
marks (S. Κrag and R. Raja, "Representations of Women and Children in Palmyrene Funerary
Loculus Reliefs, Loculus Stelae and Wall Paintings," Zeitschrift fiir Orient-Archiiologie 9 (2016): 152).
66 Cohen, "Female Breast." For sirnilar sentiments see Bonfante, "Nursing Mothers," 175: "Women
exposing their breasts regularly bring up feelings of a world awry, of anxiety and nightmaήsh
danger."
67 Carroll, Earliest Childhood, 129. (full citation now given in note 47). See, e.g., the Great Cameo of
France, and the columns of Trajan and Marcus Aurelius. Scene 39 οη Trajan's column includes a
breastfeeding barbaήan woman (Carroll, Earliest Childhood, 130).
68 Iain Ferris, Enemies of Rome: Barbarians through Roman Eyes (Stroud: Sutton Publishing, 2000), 55-60.
69 Maήna Warner, Monuments and Maidens: Ίhe Allegory ιf the Female Form (London: Weidenfeld &
Nicholson, 1985), 280-1; Bonfante, "Nursing Mothers," 185. Tacitus also remarked οη the prevalence
of maternal nursing among Germanic tήbes, however, this need not be taken as an accurate reflection
of contemporary practices, and is in any case some centuήes distant from these visual sources (Κeith
358
Bradley, "Wet-Nursing at Rome: Α Study in Social Relations," in Ίhe Family in Ancient Rome: New
Perspectives, ed. Β. Rawson (Ithaca, ΝΥ: Cornell University Press, 1986), 201; Germania 20.1).
70 Because of their association with nudity, the baths were a particularly potent place for the practice of
magic and the workings of the evil eye. See Katheήne Dunbabin, 'Έaiarum Grata Voluptas:
rif
Pleasures and Dangers of the Baths," Papers the British School at Rome 57 , (1989): 33-46; S. Alfaye,
"Mind the Bath! Magic at the Roman Bath-Houses," in From Polites to magos, Studia Gyorgy Nέmeth
sexagenario dedicate. Hungarian Polis Studies Νο. 22., ed. Α. Szabό (Budapest: Hungaήan Polis
Studies, 2016), 28-37.
71 SEG XXVI 1717. Third - fourth century.Jane Rowlandson, Women and Society in Greek and Roman
Egypt: Α Sourcebook (Cambήdge: CUP, 1998), 69-70; Κήstina Sessa, Daily Life in Late Antiquity
(Cambήdge: CUP, 2018), 221, fig 6.9. Οη the inscήption see John Gager, Curse Tablets and Binding
Spellsfrom the Ancient World (Oxford: OUP, 1992), 97-100.
72 Kaήvieri notes in relation to the evidence from Athens and Coήnth that having been popular in the
Roman peήod, erotic motifs declined in populaήty in the fourth century, becorning rare by the fifth
(Arja Κaήνieή, The Athenian Lamp Industry in Late Antiquity. Papers and Monographs rif the Finnish
Institute at Athens 5 (Helsinki: Suomen Ateenan-instituutin saatio, 1996), 68, for examples see cat
rif
alogue, 163-5). For the woman having sex with a horse see Donald Bailey, Catalogue the Lamps in
the British Museum, I-IV (London: Bήtish Museum Press, 1975), Lamp Q3271.
73 Gentili, Piazza Armerina, 119-23.
74 Strong, Prostitutes and Matrons, 134-6, who notes its similaήty to a fifth-century mosaic from Low
Ham depicting Dido and Aeneas in a sirnilar pose.
75 Zaccaήa Ruggiu, "Pitture dalla 'Casa del Cortile Doήco' di Hierapolis di Fήgia: presentazione
prelirninare," in Theorie et pratique de l'architecture romaine, ed. Ρ. Gros (Aix-en-Provence: Publications
de l'Universite de Provence, 2005), 325, 331, Fig 5.
76 Depictions of real women being baptized are easier to identify than those of men, since male figu res
always have the potential to represent the baptism of Chήst instead.
77 RobinJensen, "Living Water: Images, Symbols and Settings of Early Chήstian Baptism," Supplements
to Vigiliae Christianae 105 (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 71-5, Fig 2.12.
78 Jocelyn Toynbee, Art in Britain Under the Romans (Oxford: CP, 1964), 354; Charles Thomas,
Christianity in Roman Britain to AD 500 (London: Batsford, 1981), 221-4; Belinda Crerar,
"Contextualising Romano-Bήtish Lead Tanks: Α Study in Design, Destruction and Deposition,"
Britannia 43 (2012): 146-50.
79 Toynbee, Art in Britain, 354 and Thomas, Christianity in Roman Britain, 221-4 (drawing Fig 41), for
female baptizand. Crerar ("Lead Tanks," 146-50), however, would prefer to see these women as
Romano-Bήtish synchronistic deities, with the central nude woman inspired by Venus.
80 John Moschus, Spiritual Meadow, 3; Jensen, "Living Water," 164-5. Οη miraculous castration, see
Jacqueline Murray, "Batde for Chastity: Miraculous Castration and the Quelling of Desire in the
Middle Ages," ]ournal of the History of Sexuality, 28.1 (2018): 96-116.
81 Ellen Chήstiansen, "Women and Baptism," Studia Theologica - Nordic]ournal of Theology 35.1 (1981):
1-8; Margaret Miles, Carnal Knowing: Female Nakedness and Religious Meaning in the Christian West
(Boston: Beacon Press, 1989), 24-52; Jensen, "Living Water," 166; Grace Stafford, 'Έarly Chήstian
Female Pilgήmage to the Shήnes of Saint Menas, Saint Simeon the Elder, and Saint Thecla," SLA
3.2 (2019): 275-9.
82 Lauήe Guy, '"Naked' Baptism in the Early Church: The Rhetoήc and the Reality," The ]ournal rif
Religious History, 27.2 (2013): 133-42, argues, unconvincingly, that women were not baptised
completely naked, but weaήng a tunic. Based οη the details given in the literary sources for pre
serving baptismal modesty and the anxieties concerning temptation, it seems highly likely that
women were indeed baptised naked.
83 See Gillian Clark, "Bodies and Blood: Late Antique Debate οη Martyrdom, Virginity and
Resurrection," Changing Bodies, Changing Meanings: Studies on the Human Body in Antiquity, ed. D.
Montserrat (London: Roudedge, 1999), 99-115, οη the treatment of the female body duήng martyr
tήals and see Miles, Carnal Knowing, 55-76 οη the naked female body in the context of martyrdom
and asceticism. Saints that endured humiliation through forced nudity include Candida, Thecla,
A gues, Eirene, Perpetua and Felicitas, Febronia and Chήstina, among others. Female saints tend to be
shown fully dressed in lavish clothing which highlighted the glory of their martyrdom. Agnes, for
example, is shown οη gold-glass and mosaic dressed as a wealthy woman (gold-glass: Guy Ferraή and
rif
Charles Morey, The Gold-Glass Collection the Vatican Library: With Additional Catalogues rif Other
359
Grace Stafford
Gold-Glass Collections, Citta del Vaticano: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana (1959): 82-5; mosaic:
Dennis Trout, "Pictures with Words: Reading the Apse Mosaic ofS. Agnese f.l.m. (Rome)," Studies
in Iconography 40 (2019): 1-26; Sean Leatherbury Inscribing Faith in Late Antiquity. Between Reading and
Seeing (Abingdon: Roudedge, 2020), 54, 200-2. The only martyr I am aware of who is frequendy
shown nude is Saint Thecla duήng her tήal at Antioch. See C. Nauerth, Thekla. Ihre Bilder in der
fruhchristlichen Kunst. (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1981) for examples in gold-glass (Taf. 111.8), am
pullae (Taf. VIII.15-16), relief sculpture (Taf. ΧΙΙΙ.23).
84 Martha Easton, "Saint Agatha and the Sanctification of Sexual Violence," Studies in Iconography 16
(1984): 83-118.
85 Katheήne Dunbabin, "The Waiting Servant in Later Roman Art," American ]ournal of Philology,
124.3 (2003): 443-7.
86 Examples of women shown with small children exist, but they are rarely rendered as babies, norrnally
they are depicted as small adults but labelled infans. An exception to this is a seήes of sixth-century
mosaics from the church ofSt Demetήos at Thessaloniki, which show a mother with her child Maήa
in vaήous stages of her childhood, including as swaddled infant (Charalambos Bakirtzes, Mosaics of
th th
Thessaloniki: 4 to 14 Centuries [Athens: Kapon Editions, 2012], 131-79).
87 Οη wet-nursing in Roman society, see Bradley, "Wet-nursing."
88 Οη the roles of patrons and viewers, seeStine Birk and Birte Poulsen, 'Ίntroduction," in Patrons and
Viewers in Late Antiquity, eds. S. Birk and Β. Poulsen (Aarhus: Aarhus University Press, 2012), 7-14.
89 Discussed in Jennifer Tήmble, "The Zoninus Collar and the Archaeology of Roman Slavery,"
American ]ournal of Archaeology 120.3 (2016): 447-72, in which she approaches late-antique slave
collars from the perspectives of the slave owners who imposed them, the slaves who wore them, and
the viewers who responded to them.
90 Schade, Frauen, 134; Jas Elsner, Roman Eyes: Visuality & Subjectivity in Art & Text (Pήnceton: PUP,
2014), 221-4; Kathήn Schade, "The Female Body in Late Antiquity: Between Virtue, Taboo, and
Eroticism," in Bodies and Boundaries in Greco-Roman Antiquity, eds. Τ. Fogen and Μ.Μ. Lee (Berlin:
De Gruyter, 2016), 226. Οη the Projecta Casket in general, see Kathleen Shelton, The Esquiline
Treasure (London: Bήtish Museum, 1981), 72-5.
91 Maήa Wyke, "Woman in the Mirror. The Rhetoήc of Adornment in the Roman World," in
Women in Ancient Societies: An Illusion of the Night, eds. L. Archer et al. (London: Macmillan, 1994),
143-44; Jas Elsner, Ίhe Art of the Roman Empire AD 10{}-450 (Oxford: OUP, 2018), 38. EllenSwift,
Style and Function in Roman Decoration. Living with Objects and Interiors (London: Roudedge, 2009),
128: "The practice of body care and the use of cosmetics and jewellery constituted the Roman
woman as ... pήmaήly, a bodily creature displaying herselffor male eyes."
92 Jas Elsner, "Visualising Women in Late Antique Rome: The Projecta Casket," in Ίhrough α Glass
Brightly, ed. C. Entwisde (Oxford: Oxbow, 2003), 33; Elsner, Roman Eyes, 224; Schade, "Female
Body," 226.
93 Elsner states this outήght in the case of the Projecta Casket: "the casket was surely made by men, and
probably comrnissioned and paid for by men" (Roman Eyes, 217).
94 Elsner, Roman Eyes, 217.
95 Elsner, Roman Eyes, 217-8.
96 Schade, Frauen, 134; Elsner, Roman Eyes, 221; Schade, "Female Body," 226.
97 Both examples have lion-headed fountains spewing water into basins in the background, indicating a
scene inside the bathhouse. Οη the Naples situla there is also a domed building that may represent the
bathhouse itself. Mango and Bennett, Sevso Treasure, 471 note this about the Sevso Casket and
Dresken-Weiland, 'Έine spatantike Situla", 44 for the Naples situla.
98 Most Church Fathers decήed the gold and silver implements that women took to the baths, and the
way they turned it into an opportunity to make a spectacle of themselves (e.g., Tertullian, On the
Veiling of Virgins, 12; Clement of Alexandria, Paedogogus 3.5; Cypήan, On the Dress of Virgins 19; John
Chrysostom, Homily 28 on the Epistle to the Hebrews 13). Amrnianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 28.9, 19.
99 This is depicted οη the items themselves, which are very inter-referential, e.g., Elsner, Roman
Eyes, 212-3.
100 Οη displays in the baths in general see Fagan, Bathing in Public, esp. 215-7 οη the importance of
seeing and being seen.
101 Peter Brown, The Body and Society: Men, Women, and Sexual Renunciation in Early Christianity (New
Υork: Columbia University Press), 315-6.
360
102 Οη rnistress-slave relationships, see Maήce Rose, "The Construction of Mistress and Slave
Relationships ίη Late Antique Art," Woman's Art]ournal 29.2 (2008): 41-9.
103 For interactions between slaves, see Harper, Slavery, 249-80 and Tήmble, "Zoninus Collar,"
esp. 463-4.
104 See Harper, Slavery, 326-48 οη the control masters/rnistresses were expected to maintain over their
slaves and the morality of their household and how successful (or unsuccessful) control impacted the
honour of the owner, esp. 341-3 οη women. Οη the sexual behaviour of female slaves as a reflection
of the morality of their rnistress and the legal implications of interfeήng with someone else's slave,
see 294-5.
105 Sevso Casket: height 32 cm (body and lid), diameter 20.7 cm (base), weight 2.05 kg (not including
contents); Naples situla: height 27 cm, maximum diameter 26 cm, weight not known. This is re
flected ίη the scenes of procession, such as οη the Sevso Casket, where each slave carήes a single
object to their mistress.
106 Both mixed and segregated bathing existed ίη this period, see Ward, "Roman Baths," 142-6 and
Whitmore, "Small finds," 29-35 οη attitudes to different types of bathing. Evidence for homoerotic
desire within the bathhouse also survives, e.g., a late antique 'Ίονe spell" airning to attract the
attentions of a woman ίη the bathhouse (Suppl. Mag. Ι ηο. 42.1-25; Bernadette Brooten, Love
Between Women: Early Christian Responses to Female Homoeroticism (Chicago: UCP, 1996), 81-90) and
the supposed reaction ofValentinian I's wife Severa to a particularly beautiful slave-girl with whom
she bathed (Socrates Scholasticus, Historia Ecclesiastica, 4.31).
107 See, e.g., the papyrus Ρ. Corn 9 (AD 206) which records a contract for the services of a castanet dancer
called Isidora and two others to perform at the house of a woman called Artemisia (Rowlandson,
Women and Society, 277-8).
108 Ruth Webb, "Female entertainers ίη Late Antiquity," ίη Greek and Roman Actors. Aspects of an
Ancient Profession eds. Ρ. Easterling and Ε. Hall (Cambήdge: CUP, 2002), 282-303, here Appendix,
for text and translation. Appendix, for text and translation. Although this stela probably dates to c.
225-250 CE and therefore is slightly too early to be properly classed as late antique, it is higWy
relevant to our discussion.
109 This places her within the growing trend ίη the third century of representing people as learned, posed
ίη the speaking gesture or holding scrolls or books. This phenomenon has mosdy been exarnined ίη
the context of sarcophagi portraits, see e.g., Paul Zanker, The Mask of Socrates: The Image of the
Intellectual in Antiquity (Berkeley: UCP, 1995), 270-331; Stine Birk, Depicting the Dead: Self
Representation and Commemoration on Roman Sarcophagi with Portraits (Aarhus: Aarhus University Press,
2013), 73-90.
110 Webb, "Female Entertainers," 287-9; Ruth Mazo Karras, 'Ήoly Harlots: Prostitute Saints ίη
Medieval Legend," JHS 1.1 (1990): 3-32, esp.13-5.
111 Webb, Demons and Dancers, 4-7; Procopius, Secret History, 9.2(}-22. Webb considers Procopius's
account as decisive for constructing our understanding of late antique theatre as essentially porno
graphic. However, the evidence from contemporary epigrams suggests eroticism ίη popular culture
thrived ίη sixth-century Constantinople, οη which, see Stephen Smith, Greek Epigram in Byzantine
Culture: Gender, Desire, and Denial in the Age ofJustinian (Cambήdge: CUP, 2019), esp. 72-138.
112 Maήe-Helene Rutschowscaya, "Le Peigne d'Helladia," Etudes Coptes 7 (2000): 235-44. Three
epigrams of Leontius Scholasticus written ίη the reign of Justinian refer to a famous pantomime
dancer called Helladia who apparendy had a statue erected to her ίη Constantinople, but there is ηο
evidence that this is the woman οη the comb (Rutschowscaya, "Le Peigne," 241-2; ΑΡ 16.284, 286,
287). Srnith offers a gendered reading of the epigrams ίη which the sexual aspects of Helladia's
performances are highlighted (Greek Epigram, 109-11).
113 The scene was identified as one of pantornime by Rutschowscaya ("Le Peigne"), and most con
vincingly developed by Ruth Webb ("The Nature and Representation of competition ίη pantomime
and mime," ίη L'organisation des spectacles dans le monde romain. Entretiens sur l'antiquite classique LVIII.
[Geneve: Vandceuvres, 2011], 223-42, here 24(}-2). Webb, ίη this paper, identified the single sandal
worn by the male figure as the scabellum or kroupeza, a shoe with a special elongated sole used to mark
time during pantornime performances.
114 Rutschowscaya, "Le Peigne," 239-41.
115 Οη the pantomime imagery, see Webb, "Nature and Representation," 24(}-2.
116 The ability of actresses to conduct legal marήages had long been restήcted ίη ancient law, but under
the reign of Justin Ι the law was changed and thus allowed Justinian to marry Theodora, and
361
Grace Stafford
Theodora's sister Komito to marry the general Sittas (CJ 5.4.23). This law is translated in Anthony
Kaldellis, The Secret History with Related Texts (lndianapolis: Hackett, 2010), 133-6.
117 E.g., in the Julian basilica of the agora at Coήnth, two nude portraits of emperors were displayed
until the fifth century, when the building was destroyed (Amelia Brown, "Corinth," in The Last
Statues of Antiquity, eds., R. R. R. Smith and Β. Ward-Perkins (Oxford: OUP, 2016), 174-89, here
177.). Two naked statues of atWetes at Aphrodisias from the late third or early fourth centuries also
had a long period of display, being repaired more than once (R. R. R. Smith, 'Άphrodisias," in The
Last Statues of Antiquity, eds., R. R. R. Smith and Β. Ward-Perkins (Oxford: OUP, 2016), 145-9,
here 149....etc., LSA-531, 545).
118 Jacobs and Stirling, "Re-using the gods," where the authors consider that some of these statues could
have been re-interpreted in their new context, but that there is ηο evidence that their nudity was
ever considered offensive. Nude personifications were even found in sixth-century churches: Jane
Chick, "Nudity in an Early Christian Complex," in The Continuity rif
Classical Iconography in the
Mosaics of Late Antiquity. XIVth ΑΙΕΜΑ Conference, 15-19 October 2018, Nicosia, Cyprus.
119 Smith, Greek Epigrarn.
120 Garth Fowden, Qusayr 'Arnra: Art and the Urnayyad Elite in Late Antique Syria (Berkeley: UCP, 2004),
esp. 57-84.
121 Fowden, Qusayr, 57-8.
362
20
Α WAR OF WORDS ΟΝ ΤΗΕ
PLACE OF MILITARY WIVES ΙΝ
ΤΗΕ SIXTH-CENTURY
ROMAN ARMY
David Alan Parnell
One evening in early March AD 537, the Roman general Belisaήus was exhausted. Ιη the
service of the emperor Justinian 1 (r. 527-565), he had landed in Italy at the head of an army
with a mandate to make war upon the Ostrogoths who controlled the region. His army hadjust
skirmished against the Gothic army commanded by their king Vittigis. Belisaήus had fought in
the front ranks with his men like a common soldier, reportedly with great valour. Still, the
Gothic army was much larger, and Belisaήus and the Roman soldiers had retreated after the
skirmish behind the safety of the walls ofRome. It is at this point in the story that the histoήan
Procopius of Caesarea records a tiny but intήguing detail. He wήtes, 'Άt length, when it was
well οη in the night, Belisaήus, who had been fasting up to this point, was with difficulty
compelled by his wife and fήends who were present to taste a little bread."1 This is a stήkingly
casual adrnission of the presence of Antonina, the general's wife, with the army. Although
elsewhere Procopius speaks of Antonina at length, in this particular naπative of the Gothic War
this is his first mention of her. It is at once an acknowledgement of her presence in a dangerous
rnilitary situation, and also an attempt to root that manifestation in what Procopius perhaps saw
as an appropήate role for a wife-a domestic caregiver.
The ήch sources for the sixth-century Roman world, not least of them the Histσry ι.if the
Wars and the Secret Histσry of Procopius, reveal that duήng this period, women could be found
accompanyingRoman armies, and that some even played a role in the running of those armies.
Ιη particular, the available information highlights the actions of Antonina, which were perhaps
extraordinary. It is impossible to say how many other rnilitary wives might have travelled with
their husbands or even helped their husbands conduct army business. Rather than speculate οη
how widespread the role of Antonina rnight have been, it is more profitable to instead look at
the reactions of contemporaήes to Antonina. They reveal something of what sixth-century
Romans thought of as the appropήate place for military wives. Ιη the scurήlous Secret Histσry,
Procopius makes it clear that he does not appreciate powerful wives having a hand in public
affairs, by excoήating both Antonina and Theodora. While he does not quite suggest that wives
should simply "stay at home," he does draw sharply gendered lines between the roles of men
and women in a manner that was typical for the time. Given the vehemence of Procopius's
words, and a scholarly assumption that in the Secret Histσry the author said "what he really
DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-24 363

David Alan Parnell
meant" as opposed to what he felt like he had to say in the Wars, one might assume that this was
the most common and perhaps majoήtaήan opinion about prominent wives of the peήod.2
However, the more casual way Procopius speaks about the role of Antonina and other women
in the Wars, as well as tantalizing glimpses from other sources, suggests an alternative vision of
the role of military wives. It seems that some segment ofRoman society was cornfortable with
wives of officers being present with an army and maybe even assisting a general in running that
army. Ιη the sixth century, there was a war of words over the place of wives in public affairs,
from the army to the imperial palace. At stake in this dispute was the identity and agency of the
wives of prominent Romans.
The Restrictive Vision

The first vision of the role of wives is a restήctive one that sees them as ideally staying out of the
public affairs of their husbands and managing at most their husband's domestic household.
Concuπently, men were to focus first and foremost οη their official duties, and not to let
domestic concerns such as their relationship with their wives impede their work. These pre
cepts are mostly deήved from Procopius's cήticism of their opposites in the Secret History. For
instance, Antonina was deeply and intimately involved in Belisaήus's military duties, much to
Procopius's fury. Antonina accompanied Belisaήus to war in North Mήca, Italy, and the
Middle East. Ιη his exasperation, Procopius descήbes this by saying, 'Ίη order that the man
should never be left by himself, at which time he might come to his senses, cast off her en
chantments, and form a more realistic opinion of her, she made a point of accompanying him to
the ends of the earth."3 By this cήticism, Procopius is suggesting that a more appropήate maήtal
relationship would have involved the opposite: Belisaήus traveling to the ends of the earth in
the execution of his military obligations οη his own, without Antonina at his side. Relatedly,
Procopius also complains that Antonina could not keep out of her husband's career. It was not
just her presence that was the problem, but her involvement. Ιη 544, Belisaήus requested the
position of General of the East and the command of theRoman army there against the Persians,
but Antonina "said that she had been grossly insulted by him in that region and so, she rea
soned, he should never see it again."4 The clear implication here is that it was completely
inappropήate for a wife to have a say in where her husband should be stationed. Ιη fact,
Procopius portrays Antonina as frequently interfeήng in the general's decisions. Ιη 538,
Belisarius had a disciplinary issue with one of his top officers, Constantine, who had been
prominent in the war in Italy for the previous three years. Although Constantine had refused to
obey a direct order and had in fact made an attempt to stab Belisarius, Procopius says that the
officer "would surely have been acquitted," but that "Antonina did not relent until he had been
punished" and that "Belisaήus executed Constantine at his wife's instigation."5 For Procopius,
the results of allowing his wife to have a say in this decision were dire for the general:
"Belisaήus earned the hatred of both the emperor and all the best men among theRomans."6
Here, by saying that the "best men" among the Romans hated Belisaήus for this action,
Procopius is tacitly admitting that not everyone minded this decision, but that the group that he
personally considered the best did. This is an indirect indication that this negative view of
Antonina's potential role in Belisaήus's affairs (and Constantine's death) was not the opinion of
all, but only some.
Ιη addition to keeping his wife out of his public affairs, Procopius thought that a husband
should also exercise some sort of supremacy over her in their relationship with one another and
in their connection to the world. For instance, it was the wife's place to be saved by the
husband, not vice versa. When Belisaήus fell from grace in 542 οη the rumour that he had
364
Α War of Words
discussed the succession in case of Justinian's death from the plague, Procopius charges that it
was Antonina who brought about his restoration. The language the author uses, laced with
bitterness, makes it clear that he thought this was an unnatural situation: "The empress therefore
contrived to gratify Antonina by doing everything to create the impression that it was the wife
who had interceded οη the husband's behalf and had delivered him from this crushing adver
sity."7 Procopius makes it clear that he thought the opposite, that is the husband helping the
wife, to be the appropήate flow of power in a maήtal relationship. The histoήan was so dis
gusted by the idea he had constructed of a woman exerting this kind of power over the fate of a
man that he went even further in the narrative to make Belisaήus appear not just less influential
than his wife but completely subservient to her. When the general learned of his deliverance,
Procopius says, then "placing a hand behind each of her calves, he began to lick the soles of his
wife's feet with his tongue, one after the other, calling her the cause of his life and salvation,
8
promising that henceforth he would be her devoted slave and not her husband." For the
author, then, anything short of a marήage where the husband exercised authoήty over the wife
ultimately devolved into a situation where the husband was in reality ηο longer a husband but
instead a slave. If Procopius believed this was an unnatural state of affairs, how did he explain
Belisaήus being reduced to it? Quite simply, the histoήan blamed the paranormal: "They say
that his wife used magic to subdue him and that she could break his will in but a moment."9 So
for the author, the nature of Belisaήus and Antonina's marήage was so unusual that it could
only be explained by the supranatural. It follows, then, that for the Procopius of the Secret
History a normal maπiage and an appropriate relationship between husband and wife would be
quite the opposite. 10
It is hard to overestimate the impact that Procopius's scandalous depiction of Belisarius and
Antonina has had οη modern interpretations of the pair's maπiage. Traditionally, scholarship
has swallowed Procopius's accusations whole. Ιη The History rif the Decline and Fall rif the Roman
Empire (circa 1789) Gibbon set the tone for taking the story at face value. He cheerfully ac
cepted every accusation against Antonina, wήting "the fame, and even the virtue, ofBelisarius,
were polluted by the lust and cruelty of his wife."11 Lord Mahon, in his 1829 biography,
admitted that the Secret History was "inauthentic," but that did not stop him from accepting its
account of Belisaήus and Antonina. He concluded, "the chief fault of Belisarius seems to have
been his unbounded deference and submission to his wife." 12 Stein, in his 1949 Histoire du Bas
Empire, followed suit: "Belisaήus was pushed by the love of his wife, who accompanied him οη
almost all his expeditions, to commit, under her influence, heinous cήmes."13 Ιη the latter half
of the twentieth century and the first part of the twenty-first, gender-critical scholarship has
emerged that questions the validity of Procopius's characteήzations. 14 The most extreme take,
that ofLeslieBrubaker, argues that the Secret Histσry tells us "next to nothing" about the women
it critiques.15 However, general syntheses and naπatives of the sixth century continue to rely οη
the more typical modern tradition of taking Procopius's scuπilous pamphlet at least somewhat
at face value.16 The consequence is that the author's invective of Belisarius and Antonina has
had a disproportionately large impact οη modern understandings not just of that specific
marήage but of what the sixth-century Romans thought normal for all prominent marήages.
Lest we think that Procopius's descήption ofBelisaήus and Antonina is just about the two of
them and does not reflect a more general view of the appropriate role of the wives of prominent
men, there are other examples to consider. The marήage of Justinian and Theodora receives
even more attention from Procopius, and the criticism here follows the same lines.17 The
histoήan complains bitterly about Theodora's involvement in public affairs. Her partnership
with Justinian was something to be regretted: 'Ί turn now to explain what kind of people
Justinian and Theodora were, the two of them as a pair, and how they ruined the affairs of the
365
David Alan Parnell
Romans." 18 Apparendy, Theodora's involvement in government affairs was so extreme that

Justinian literally did nothing without her: "Now we must, in bήef, divulge what she and her
husband did, for the two of them did nothing independendy of each other while they lived
together." 19 This is a more extreme charge than Procopius made of Belisarius and Antonina,
but it follows the same spiήt of his cήtique of their relationship. Whereas Antonina is only
sometimes directly involved in Belisaήus's public affairs, Theodora is presented as always being
involved: "She insisted οη presiding over every branch of state and οη always having her
way."20 So then as with Antonina, Theodora is presented as the opposite of the ideal Roman
wife.21 Procopius thought that a good empress would stay out of the emperor's way in matters
of state, just as a good general's wife would stay out of her husband's way in rnilitary affairs. At
the same time, Procopius wanted Justinian to focus οη his impeήal duties just as he wanted
Belisarius to focus οη his rnilitary duties. Ιη the histoήan's ideal world, neither man would be
distracted from duty by their spouse. Because they failed to live up to this ideal, Procopius
criticised Belisarius as "a confirmed fool" and Justinian as "extraordinarily dumb." 22 So in the
Secret History, the right order of things is for men to handle public affairs, for women to stay out
of public affairs, and for the men not to be distracted by their wives and domestic issues while
managing their official duties.
Before proceeding, it is worth taking a moment to consider Procopius's portrayal of
Amalasuntha, Queen of the Ostrogoths (r. 526-535). Οη the surface, it rnight seem that the
histoήan's positive descήptions of Amalasuntha make her a counterexample: a powerful woman
deeply involved in public affairs that Procopius praises rather than censures. And Procopius does
praise Amalasuntha, after a fashion. He descήbes her as a woman 'Όf noble ancestry and a queen"
and extols "the woman's magnificence and exceptionally manly beaήng."23 However, several
considerations contextualise and ultimately underrnine Procopius's praise of Amalasuntha. First, it
is possible that some of the praise of the queen is not genuine but rather intended to be an indirect
rebuke of Theodora, who though empress did not have noble ancestry.24 Second, the overall
story Procopius crafts of Amalasuntha contradicts his praise of her wisdom and justice. She is
portrayed as naϊve and trusting and needing male support and protection (fi-om Justinian).25
Third, it is worth consideήng that even if both of the first two considerations were to be thrown
out, Amalasuntha's situation is not a parallel to either Antonina's or Theodora's. Both Antonina
and Theodora exercised their authoήty in public affairs in the context of being marήed to
husbands with official roles, and it is both their authoήty and the decadence of their marήages that
Procopius cήticises. Amalasuntha exercised authoήty as a widowed mother, as regent for her son
Athalaήc. She had ηο husband to defer to. Of course, it hardly needs saying also that Amalasuntha
was a Gothic queen, not a Roman empress or general's wife. Because the situations are so
different, it is unlikely that Procopius's descήption of Amalasuntha has anything to do with his
opinions about how the wives of Roman generals and emperors should act.
Histoήans of the sixth-century Roman world are quite beholden to Procopius as a source
because so many of the anecdotes he relates cannot be coπoborated by surviving contemporary
sources. So, for example, it is impossible to confirm Procopius's accusation that Antonina saved
Belisarius from disgrace in the 540s and that the general in return licked her feet and promised
to be her "devoted slave." It is fortunate, then, that one specific instance of Antonina colla
borating with Belisarius in the performance of his public duties does find coπoboration in
multiple sources. This provides the unique opportunity to weigh Procopius's opinion of the
nature of their relationship and the place of Antonina against that of contemporaήes. Ιη late
March 537, while residing in Rome under siege by the Gothic army, Antonina and Belisaήus
deposed Pope Silveήus. Procopius reports the event in both the History rif the Wars and the Secret
History. Ιη the former, he says that Belisaήus deposed Silveήus, and in the latter, he says that it
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was Antonina who got ήd of him at the behest of Theodora.26 Both mentions are incredibly
bήef, probably because Procopius planned to provide further detail οη the story in a future
ecclesiastical history that he apparently never wrote.27 Of course, Procopius has said enough
about his opinion of Antonina's "interference" in public affairs elsewhere in the Secret Histσry to
leave litde doubt about how he probably planned to cήticise Antonina and Theodora for their
involvement in the papal deposition.28 Other sources provide more detail, and by extension, an
opinion about the involvement of Antonina. The fullest account of the story is provided by the
Liber Pσntificalis (The Book of the Popes), an anonymous source compiled multiple times over
the Middle Ages, although the descήption of the deposition of Silverius is probably nearly
29
contemporary, dating to the mid-sixth century at the latest. The Liber sets the scene where
Silverius was deposed as follows: "the patήcian Antonina was lying οη a couch with the pa
tήcian Belisaήus sitting at her feet. "30 This is an extraordinary descήption of Belisaήus and
Antonina. It portrays Antonina in the dominant position, with Belisaήus sitting at her feet
indicating his subservience to her and placing her firmly in the role of the active individual in
these proceedings. The reader is probably meant to be shocked by this gender role reversal. The
surpήse is continued by the fact that Belisaήus remains silent while it is Antonina who accosts
Silverius: "Tell us, lord pope Silveήus, what have we done to you and the Romans to make
you want to betray us into the hands of the Goths?"31 This description shows Antonina fully
engaged in the task of deposing Silveήus, but takes it to the extreme of also showing Belisaήus
essentially emasculated, delegating full authority to his wife to do his dirty work. Ιη this, the
author of the Liber reflects two of the features of Procopius's Secret Histσry, showing that some
contemporaήes recognised Antonina was involved in public affairs alongside Belisaήus and that
some of them viewed this partnership with hostility and therefore strove to make Belisaήus
appear unmanly and his relationship with Antonina perverse. The author of the Liber then
probably also subscήbed to the restήctive view that wives should stay out of the public affairs of
their husbands and that husbands should not let domestic concerns interfere with their duties.
The Expansive Vision

Although the evidence for the restήctive vision of the appropήate place of wives seems
overwhelming, there is actually considerable support in the sources for the existence of an
alternative view. Α more expansive vision of the role of wives approves of them accompanying
their husbands οη official travel such as military campaigns and taking an active role in their
public affairs alongside them. This need not have meant enthusiastic approval, far less some
ideological notion of gender equality, but was perhaps rooted in a sense of duty that bound the
marήed couple to each other and to public affairs. People who had this vision of marήage and
duty also accepted that sometimes an individual may need to focus οη their personal and family
affairs because ηο one could or should focus οη public duty at all times. Shirking official duties
does not appear to be acceptable even to people of this persuasion, however. The evidence for
this view of the role of women and the place of maπiage in public affairs is more scattered and
less forceful than the evidence for the previous vision. However, casual references to the
presence or activity of wives in the public affairs of their husbands suggest that at least some
people found such things entirely normal.
Portrayals of Antonina are again a good starting point when trying to map out this view. Ιη
the Histσry ι.if the Wars, Procopius describes Antonina's public roles casually, in a matter-of-fact
way, as if they were wholly unextraordinary. When set against his vitήolic invective in the Secret
Histσry, these nonchalant references are quite remarkable and therefore worth repeating in full.
The histoήan records the departure of the Roman expedition to North Mήca inJune 533 by
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explaining that "the general Belisaήus and Antonina, his wife, set sail." 32 Ιη September 533, as
the Roman army marched οη Carthage, Procopius records the presence of Antonina with the
infantry: 'Όη the following day the infantry with the wife of Belisaήus came up and we all
proceeded together οη the road toward Carthage." 33 These two casual references to Antonina's
presence in a military campaign at the side of her husband are really quite interesting, especially
when compared to Procopius's bitter complaint in the Secret Histσry about how "she made a
point of accompanying him to the ends of the earth." 34 The difference between the two takes
οη Antonina's presence is a clue that in each of the two works Procopius is playing to a different
audience, or cateήng to a different vision, about the appropήate role of military wives like
Antonina. He evidently expected the audience for the Wars to be accepting of a wife cam
paigning with her husband. Procopius also descήbed Antonina's presence with Belisarius and
his army in Italy in a way that made it appear wholly normal. We have already bήefly exarnined
the episode at Rome in March 537 when Antonina and his fήends approached Belisaήus after a
long day and persuaded him to eat something.35 This is a small glimpse into an Antonina quite
different from the callous adulteress described in the Secret Histσry who "used magic to subdue
him." 36 This is a supportive partner, a concerned spouse, who uses not only her own influence
but also collects together Belisaήus's friends to convince him to take care of himself even while
he is worrying about his army and the city of Rome. The difference between the Antonina
presented in the Secret Histσry and the one presented in the Wars could not be starker.
Throughout the Wars, Antonina's presence with Belisaήus and the army is normalised. Ιη early
548, Belisaήus was at Croton, and as Procopius reports, "he himself together with his wife
remained there with the infantry, in order that from there he might be able to summon and
organise John's army." 37 So in this instance the historian discusses the presence of Antonina in
the rnidst of an army at war in the same sentence as analysing Belisaήus's decisions as a general,
evidently without convulsions at Antonina being present at "the ends of the earth" with her
husband.
Of course, all of these depictions show Antonina merely being present, or offeήng help in a
most domestic and private sort of way, as in making sure her spouse ate.38 Ιη Italy, however,
Antonina went beyond mere presence to taking a direct and assertive role in the running of
Belisarius's army and public affairs. How did the histoήan handle these situations? Tellingly, he
descήbed them with the same casual language as other mentions of Antonina in the Wars.
Despite Antonina's interventions being completely unprecedented in Roman history as far as
we know, Procopius presents them as totally normal. Ιη the fall of 537, in the rnidst of the
Gothic siege of Rome, Belisaήus dispatched Procopius to Naples to secure supplies and re
inforcements. Υet, remarkably, in Naples Procopius was joined by Antonina, "who im
mediately assisted him in making aπangements for the fleet." 39 It is interesting that Procopius
presents this in such a neutral way. It is possible that he was actually quite vexed by this turn of
events. Mter all, this had been the author's big moment to contήbute to the war effort, and he
found himself upstaged by Antonina. Although Procopius claims that Antonina assisted him, it
is certainly possible that, in reality, it was Antonina who assumed direction of the operations
and Procopius who assisted her. The Antonina descήbed in the Secret Histσry or the Antonina
who helped to depose a pope is unlikely to have played the part of assistant to her husband's
secretary. Whether she took charge of the reinforcement fleet or merely assisted Procopius in
organizing it, Antonina's involvement is still rather extraordinary for a military spouse, and yet
Procopius lets it pass without additional comment or cήtique. By December 537, Antonina had
arήved at Ostia, Rome's oήginal port, with a fleet full of supplies and reinforcements.
Procopius reports that 'Άntonina with the commanders began at dawn to consider means of
transporting the cargo." 40 The phrasing of this sentence makes it seem that Antonina was
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working directly with the officers of the reinforcing units of the fleet, at the very least οη a basis
of equality, and perhaps even directing them. As far as Ι know, a wife of a general being treated
as an equal or even supeήor of the subordinate officers of that general is unprecedented in
Roman history. The closest parallel comes from the first century when Agήppina the Elder
accompanied her husband Germanicus in his wars in Germania and later in Syήa. Tacitus
descήbed her role thusly: 'Ίη those days this great-hearted woman acted as a commander ...
Agrippina's position in the army already seemed to outshine generals and commanding offi
cers." 41 Even this descήption of Agήppina's involvement, however, falls short of what
Procopius says that Antonina was doing since Agήppina is not credited with any specific ac
tions. So, Antonina's role seems to have been relatively unprecedented. And yet Procopius
neither acknowledges the raήty of the occasion or criticises Antonina for her involvement.42
Nor is this the only anecdote in the Wars that puts Antonina οη par with Roman military
officers. Ιη summer 548, Belisaήus was waging his second campaign against the Ostrogoths in
Italy. Desperate for reinforcements, the general decided to use Antonina to request assistance.
As with other episodes, Procopius reports this one in a neutral fashion: 'Άt about this time
Antonina, the wife of Belisaήus, set off for Byzantium, intending to beg the empress to pour
more resources into the war." 43 This mission is mirrored by a similar one that took place in 545,
when Belisaήus dispatched the general John, the nephew of Vitalian, to Constantinople to
request aid: he "sent John, the nephew of Vitalian, to Byzantium, binding him by the most
solemn oaths to make every effort to return as quickly as possible; and his mission was to beg the
emperor to send them a large army and much money and, furthermore, both arms and
horses." 44 The only difference between the two missions is that Antonina went to Theodora,
while John went to Justinian. Otherwise, they are presented in remarkably the same fashion.
And so, the two episodes again demonstrate an extraordinary willingness οη the part of
Procopius to show Antonina as deeply involved in Belisaήus's public affairs, and as an equal to
his male officers, without rancour or cήticism.
It is important to emphasise that this open and seemingly accepting attitude of Antonina's
role by Procopius in the History rif the Wars is not unique for his time. Other sources are
similarly willing to discuss Antonina's power without obvious resentment. For example,
consider again the deposition of Pope Silverius by Antonina and Belisaήus in March 537. While
the account of this event in the Liber Pσntificalis seemed to confirm Procopius's anti-Antonina
stance in the Secret History, the descήption of her involvement by Liberatus ofCarthage is much
more relaxed. Liberatus, an archdeacon, wrote a history ofChristian controversies known as the
Breviarium, probably in the 560s. The account is hostile to Antonina because it lumps her in
with Theodora as opponents of the Council of Chalcedon. However, there is ηο indication of
hostility about the fact that Antonina as a woman was involved in these public matters.
Liberatus descήbes her involvement with Belisarius very matter-of-factly: "Belisaήus and his
wife however secretly advised Silveήus to obey the order of the Augusta by suppressing the
synod of Chalcedon and by confirming the faith of the heretics by a letter." 45 Mter the de
position of Silveήus and the installation of the new pope Vigilius, Liberatus claims that
Antonina pressured Vigilius to wήte a letter. The letter itself names Antonina and confirms her
influence: "Because today my gloήous daughter, the very Chήstian patricia Antonina, has been
able to obtain the fulfιlment of my desires to send these letters to your Fraternity, Ι greet you in
the grace that unites us toChήst the Saviour our God." 46 These are precious and rare references
to Antonina acting in an official capacity both alongside Belisarius and then οη her own. The
letter even refers to Antonina's title, patrician. Notably absent from Liberatus's account is any
gender-cήtical language. He might have outright accused Antonina of black magic, as
Procopius, or indirectly cήticised her for emasculating Belisaήus, as the Liber, but Liberatus does
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neither. This of course does not mean that he automatically approved of Antonina's official role
in these affairs, and clearly, Liberatus did not appreciate the "side" Antonina took in the ec
clesiastical debates of the peήod, but it is significant that he does not take the easy potshots at
Antonina's gender and involvement. Liberatus's restraint is miπored by a similar sixth-century
source, Victor, Bishop of Tunnuna in North Afήca, who wrote a chronicle in the 560s. Like
Liberatus, Victor did not particularly like Theodora or her agents οη religious grounds. Also,
like Liberatus, he presents the involvement of Antonina in papal affairs without any particular
rancour: "Therefore Pope Vigilius was compelled by the patricia Antonina, wife of the patrician
Belisarius, to wήte [a letter]."47 Ιη the word "compelled" (compellitur) rnight be sensed re
sentment of Vigilius being forced into wήting this letter. But this feeling of resentment is not
particularly gendered, and the compulsion would have been similarly unappreciated οη re
ligious grounds if it came from a male official. Together then, Liberatus and Victor present
Antonina as involved alongside her husbandBelisaήus, and perhaps as even a more active agent
than he was, without any particular complaint that she should not be engaged in public affairs in
this way.48
As with the restήctive vision of the role of wives, it is important for this vision not to get lost
in the single example of Antonina. Did a more relaxed view of the role of rnilitary wives in
public affairs apply to other women as well? It is necessary to begin with the caveat that more is
known about Antonina than all other military wives of the sixth century put together.Because
of Procopius's relationship to Belisarius and Antonina, and indeed perhaps his obsession with
them, much more information is available about them than is typical. However, there are
occasional references to other military wives that seem to indicate that their presence with a
campaigning army was possible and that sometimes their husbands paid more attention to them
than proponents of the restήctive vision of Procopius in the Secret History would have liked.
Procopius descήbes one other sixth-century wife who accompanied her husband to his rnilitary
posting: Praiecta, the emperor Justinian's niece, travelled with her husband Areobindus, who
was appointed General of Mήca in 545.49 Areobindus and Praiecta are, however, not quite the
same as Belisaήus and Antonina, because Areobindus was posted to a settled army in a Roman
controlled region, while Antonina joined Belisaήus οη an overseas campaign in enemy terή
tory.50 There are some examples of women being present in campaign aπnies, though. Ιη
March 53 7, Belisarius ordered that the women and children of the male inhabitants of Rome
should be removed from the city and transported to Naples, to ensure that the defenders of the
city would have enough food to eat duήng the siege. At the same time, "he ordered the soldiers
to do the same, if anyone had a female or male attendant."51 This is one of the few references in
the History of the Wars to the presence of females other than Antonina in the army ofBelisaήus.
The casual nature of the order indicates that Belisaήus fully expected and even assumed the
presence of women in the ranks of his army. The Greek word translated here as "female
attendant" refers to a female maid or slave (Θεράπαινα), but it is not hard to imagine that some
of these individuals rnight have been concubines or otherwise sexual partners of the soldiers and
officers.52 So then this is perhaps not an exact analogue for the presence of Antonina with
Belisarius οη campaign, but it is an indication at any rate that the presence of women in general
with an army οη campaign was not considered unusual. But the cήticism of Antonina in the
restήctive vision is not simply about presence, but about pήoήtization. Antonina gets too
involved in Belisaήus's public duty, and Belisaήus is too subservient to his wife and therefore
subjugates his official duty to pleasing his wife. And yet, in the Wars, there are indications that
Belisarius is not alone in occasionally pήoήtizing his wife and domestic affairs over his official
duties. Οη two different occasions, other officers put maήtal ambitions before their rnilitary
obligations. As has already been related, in 545 Belisaήus dispatched John, the nephew of
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Vitalian, to Constantinople to request aid for the army in Italy. However, Procopius records
that 'John, although he spent a long time in Byzantium, accomplished none of the goals of his
mission; still, he marήed the daughter of Germanus, the nephew of the emperor."53 So in this
case John spent quite a bit of time in Constantinople, though the military situation in Italy was
dire, and courted and marήed a wife. The other example of this prioήtization took place in 546.
Artabanes, the new General of Mήca, conceived a desire to marry Praiecta, the widow of
Areobindus. Accordingly, Artabanes "sent Praiecta to the emperor while he continued to in
vent various specious pretexts to induce the emperor to recall him to Byzantium, even though
he was appointed general of all of Νorth Mήca."54 Artabanes eventually succeeded in getting
recalled to Constantinople and appointed to a post as general there, although he was unable to
marry Praiecta because it was discovered that he was already marήed to a woman from whom
he was separated and that he had not seen in years.55 So while John had merely delayed his
official duties and return to Italy in order to pursue his maπiage, Artabanes had actually re
organised his career and changed jobs in order to marry a woman. It is hard to know what
contemporaήes made of choices like these. Were they reasonable or not? Even Procopius
would have likely admitted that all men, even those with the most important public offices like
emperor and general, needed to occasionally manage their personal affairs.56 But the cases of
John and Artabanes might have been a step too far for most Romans-an abdication of official
duty in favour of domestic matters. Nevertheless, they indicate that at least these two men
thought this to be appropήate behaviour. Nor was it only high-ranking generals that occa
sionally pήoήtised their marήages over their official duty. Ιη 545, the general Vitalios was
leading a contingent of Roman soldiers from Illyήa in a campaign in Italy. While stationed at
Bologna, the soldiers received word that there had been a raid in Illyήa and the attackers had
enslaved the women and children they found there. Procopius descήbes what happened next.
'Άll the Illyήans who were serving under him suddenly and without having suffered any hard
treatment or heard any rebuke, withdrew secretly from the town by night and went home ...
but it happened that a Hunnic army had fallen upon Illyήa and enslaved their women and
children, and it was when they learned this, and also because they had a scarcity of provisions in
Italy, that they withdrew."57 Ιη this unusual case, not just a single officer but an entire unit of
soldiers decided that their military duties should come second after their domestic affairs. It is
likely that Procopius wants the reader to sympathise with the Illyrian soldiers here. They had
suffered immense personal loss and apparently hoped to be able to catch up with the raiders and
free their wives and children. Even the emperor seems to have felt bad for them because
Procopius reports that while Justinian was initially angry at this withdrawal, he later forgave the
soldiers.58 So, the evidence about military wives other than Antonina is scarce, but the scattered
references presented here do suggest at least the possibility that other women accompanied
aπnies οη campaign and that generals other than Belisarius occasionally pήoritised their wives
and other domestic arrangements over their military duty. This indicates that a more expansive
vision of the role of military wives and their importance to their husbands existed in the sixth
century, in competition with the more restήctive vision οη the exclusion of wives from public
affairs and their subordination to their husbands.
Visions and Audiences

Given the nature of the sources and our heavy reliance οη Procopius, to assert that there were
different visions οη the role of military wives in public affairs means to assert that in some ways
the historian argues against himself This means that it is necessary to consider the works of
Procopius and his potential readership. The motivation of the author in wήting, and the
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expected readership of his books, could perhaps go some way to explaining why Procopius
presents, for example, Antonina's public role so differently in the Secret History and the History rif
the Wars. Modern scholars have spilled a lot of ink in assessing just when and why Procopius
wrote these two works. He probably began writing the Wars soon after leaving Belisarius's
service in 540 and completed it between 550 and 553.59 The Secret History was probably wήtten
between 548 and 550.60 More important than the dates are the reasons for each composition.
Procopius probably wrote the Wars to gain official praise and reward from Justinian. Waπen
Treadgold speculates that Procopius received a promotion to the rank of illustris for wήting the
Wars. 61 The histoήan, therefore, wrote for a public audience, and specifically for the emperor
and influential members of the bureaucracy and military. This means that the things he wrote in
the Wars, including his acceptance of the public roles of Antonina, must have been expected to
be well-received by Justinian and others who thought like him.62 Michael Stewart argues that
this is an indication that Procopius's depiction of early Byzantine gender ideologies were ap
preciated by his readers.63 Although some of the author's references to Antonina in the Wars
might seem simple or formulaic (Anthony Kaldellis considers Procopius an "adept minimalist"),
they should not be interpreted with an overly-subtle approach, as though they mean something
they do not say.64 Ιη essence, then, in the Wars Procopius means what he says when he treats
the active role of Antonina as something natural, and this is what his audience of emperor and
court would have expected. The Secret History, on the other hand, was meant to complement
the Wars for a different audience.65 The author might have incorporated the mateήal from the
Secret History into the Wars if he had oudivedJustinian, but given that the emperor survived him
the book took οη a different character.66 Juan Signes Codoiier argues that Procopius wrote the
Secret History for a potential new regime of Germanus, Justinian's cousin. The book was de
signed to ingratiate Procopius with the hoped-for new ruler by denigrating the old.67 It is
invective and resembles a legal argument against Justinian, Theodora, Belisaήus, and Antonina
οη behalf of the people wronged by them. Perhaps the victims Procopius mentions in these
accounts were even his fήends.68 This difference in intended audience partially explains the
dramatically different character of the book vis-a-vis the Wars. While Kaldellis argues that
"there is only one Procopius," not all historians concur, and perhaps there is ηο reason to try to
reconcile the multiple views he apparendy held across the Wars and Secret History. 69 Ιη other
words, the views that Procopius advances in the Secret History about the inappropήateness of
Antonina's role in Belisaήus's public life (and indeed about Theodora's role inJustinian's public
life) may be targeted only at a specific set of people: Germanus, his supporters, and perhaps
Procopius's own fήends. These views may not even represent Procopius's personal opinion.
Henning Bi:irm argues that there is ηο reason for assuming that what Procopius wrote in the
Secret History represents what he actually believed himself, but rather what he wanted others to
think he believed.70
Up to this point, only two views or visions of the role of military wives have been con
sidered. However, there is ηο reason that opinions οη this subject had to be binary. For in
stance, a third view could have potentially split the difference between the two visions that have
already been descήbed. Perhaps some Romans of the sixth century were fairly accepting of
wives accompanying and even assisting husbands in their official duties but drew the line at any
preferencing of personal or domestic issues over official duties. This view could represent some
part of the broad acceptance of powerful wives exercising influence in public affairs as seen in
the expansive vision, but also a belief in duty to the state being more important than domestic
affairs as seen in the restήctive vision. Setting aside specific viewpoints that encompass a unified
theory of the role of military wives, it is also possible to view the various interventions of
Antonina in Belisaήus's public affairs along a spectrum. Οη one end of the spectrum may be
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placed the most pήvate and domestic of her activities οη Belisaήus's campaigns, such as her
insistence that her tired, fasting husband eat something at the end of a long day at Rome in
71
March 537. Although Antonina was of course present in the midst of a military campaign, this
was perhaps the least public and most domestic of her recorded activities in Italy duήng this
time. That might make the act of an active military wife easiest for most Romans to swallow.
Procopius records a similarly domestic moment in the Vandal campaign. While sailing to Mήca
in Spring 533, the water of the Roman fleet was spoiled with the sole exception of that of
Belisaήus's household. This is because "the wife of Belisaήus" preserved his water by sinking
7
jars of it into sand οη his ship. 2 Like the anecdote at Rome, here Antonina is indeed present
with Belisaήus in a military context, but her role is confined to household duties, there food
and here water. Ιη these examples, Antonina was miπoήng traditional ideas of the role of the
73
wife in the domestic sphere. Somewhere in the middle of the spectrum might be located the
more active roles of Antonina οη campaign. When Antonina took command of an operation to
transport reinforcements and supplies to Rome, as in 537, or went οη Belisaήus's behalf to
Constantinople to request additional resources for the war in Italy, as in 548, she was in fact
74
acting οη a basis of equality with Belisaήus's male officers. It is beyond a doubt that some
Romans found this acceptable. If they did not, these roles either would not have been given to
Antonina at all, or Procopius would have at least felt free to severely cήticise them in the Histσry
ι.if the Wars. That these events did happen, and that Procopius only felt safe cήticizing them in
the relative safety of the Secret Histσry, indicates that at least some portion of the Roman po
pulace found nothing particularly outrageous about a military wife like Antonina taking such an
active part in public affairs. Οη the other hand, Procopius's outrage in his invective does suggest
that some Romans would have been adamantly opposed to Antonina accompanying Belisaήus
"to the ends of the earth," and might have truly believed that her active role in his career could
75
be only explained by her "charms and philters of seduction."
Οη the far end of the spectrum may be placed events that might have been the most difficult
for many Romans to accept, such as moments in which Roman officers pήoήtised their do
mestic affairs above their official duties. While it was one thing for a general like Belisaήus to
bήng his wife οη campaign, and even to occasionally grant her responsibilities miπoήng those
of his male officers, it was another thing altogether for Belisaήus to fail in his duties because of
his attention to Antonina. Procopius alleges that this occuπed in 541 duήng Belisarius's second
campaign in the east. Antonina and Belisaήus were not together, which was unusual, but
according to Procopius Antonina had been in Constantinople assisting Theodora to overthrow
her political enemy John the Cappadocian. Meanwhile, in the east Belisaήus hadjust captured
the Persian fortress of Sisauranon, in southeast Turkey. However, when Belisaήus heard that
Antonina had finished in Constantinople and was οη her way to him in the east, then "dis
76
regarding all other cares and responsibilities, he marched the army back" in order to meet her.
Procopius claims that if Belisarius had not done this, he and his army might have marched
through modern Iraq all the way to Ctesiphon without meeting resistance. Therefore, the
histoήan says, "Belisaήus was reviled by all theRomans for sacήficing the most cήtical needs of
77
the state to his paltry domestic affairs." Procopius could not be clearer about the nature of the
choice here: Belisaήus had to choose between public duty or pήvate matters, and he made the
wrong choice. The author's disdain for Belisarius is obvious. Even if allowances are made for
the nature of the Secret Histσry as invective, and even if it might be that this event did not unfold
in reality the way Procopius descήbes it, the feelings about the choice behind the event were
real and Procopius expected them to be reciprocated by his readers. This is a powerful in
dication that such an interaction between general and wife would not have been appreciated by
at least some segment, perhaps a large one, ofRoman society. Α similar choice was made by the
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Illyήan soldiers stationed in Italy in 545. Faced with fear for their wives and children, they
withdrew from Italy and returned home, sacήficing their official duty to tend to their domestic
concerns. 78 Procopius reports this incident in the History qf the Wars rather than the Secret
History, and obviously does not have the same rhetoήcal reason to criticise the Illyήan soldiers as
he does Belisaήus and Antonina, so consequently, there is less detail about what the author
thinks of this incident. However, that he reports that Justinian was initially angry at the soldiers
is instructive, as it suggests that not everyone would have thought the Illyrian soldiers made the
ήght choice. Although Justinian later forgave the soldiers, this does not lessen his initial anger or
disapproval at their actions. The emperor actively practiced mercy in this and many other
79
cases. So although the case of the Illyrian soldiers is known in much less detail and is less
rhetoήcally charged than that of Belisaήus and Antonina in 541, it conveys a sirnilar message:
that at least some and perhaps many Romans would have seen public officials like rnilitary
officers sacήficing their duty to their domestic affairs as inappropήate. This then represents the
far end of the spectrum of the role of military wives in public affairs; a set of circumstances that
perhaps some men might have found appropriate, but that many more probably would
have not.
Ultimately, it is not possible to determine whether a more expansive or more restήctive
view of the role of military wives in the official duties of their husbands was more prevalent in
the sixth-century Roman world. It is even possible that neither view was the most popular and
that instead most elite Romans holding public offices fell somewhere along the rniddle of the
spectrum, finding some involvement of their wives in their affairs appropriate, but drawing a
line at sacήficing their duty to family matters. Such categoήzation belongs to the realm of
speculation, however. With so few voices from the peήod represented in the surviving source
evidence, there is ηο way to predict a majoήty view. What the evidence does show, though,
and pretty conclusively, is that there were multiple points of view οη this issue. Much as
Procopius rnight act in the Secret History as if everyone should think it ήdiculous that Antonina
accompanied Belisaήus οη campaign, the other evidence, including some from Procopius
himself, is equally clear that at least some found this quite reasonable. And so, there was a war of
words οη the place of rnilitary wives in the sixth century. This suggests that the identity of these
women, as far as their public role, was very much in flux during this peήod. Some women, like
Antonina, must have taken it very much as their right to accompany their husbands οη cam
paign, assist them in running their households, and even sometimes join them in their official
duties. Other women rnight have wished to do so but found themselves prevented by husbands
who believed such public activity to be inappropήate. This was an interesting time to be the
wife of a Roman general.
Notes
1 Procopius, Wars, 5.18.43, trans. Anthony Kaldellis, The Wars rifjustinian (Indianapolis: Hackett, 2014),
296. Subsequent translations of the Wars are from this text unless otherwise noted.
2 For example, Anthony Kaldellis, Procopius rif
Caesarea: Tyranny, History, and Philosophy at the End of
Antiquity (Philadelphia: UPP, 2004), 203. For more οη how scholars interpret the Secret History, see the
section "Visions and Audiences" below.
3 Procopius, Secret History, 2.2, trans. Anthony Kaldellis, The Secret History with Related Texts
(Indianapolis: Hackett, 2010), 10. Subsequent translations ofthe Secret History are from this text unless
otherwise noted.
4 Procopius, Secret History, 4.38.
5 Procopius, Secret History, 1.28-9.
374
Α War of Words

9 Procopius, Secret History, 3.2, see also 1.13 and 2.2.
10 For an overview of late Roman marriage that Procopius might have seen as typical and appropriate, see
rif
Kate Cooper, The Fall the Roman Household (Cambήdge: CUP, 2007).
11 Edward Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire (London, 1776-1789), 4.203
rif
12 Philip Henry Stanhope (Lord Mahon), The Life Belisarius (London, 1829), 326, 437
13 Ernest Stein, Histoire du Bas-Empire (Paris: Desclee de Brouwer, 1949), 2.286, my translation.
14 See, for instance, Elizabeth Α. Fisher, "Theodora and Antonina in the Historia Arcana: History and/or
Fiction?" Arethusa 11 (1978): 253-79 at 269-74 and Leonora Neville, Byzantine Gender (Υork: Arc
Humanities, 2019), 5-21.
15 Leslie Brubaker, "Sex, Lies, and Intertexuality: The Secret History of Prokopios and the Rhetoήc of
Gender in Sixth Century Byzantium," in Gender in the Early Medieval World: East and West 300-900,
eds. L. Brubaker andJ.M.H. Smith (Cambήdge: CUP, 2004), 83-101 at 101.
16 For example,J.A.S. Evans, The Power Game in Byzantium: Antonina and the Empress Theodora (London:
Continuum, 2011), 83, 102 and Warren Treadgold, The Early Byzantine Historians (London: Palgrave
Macmillan, 2007), 182.
17 Brubaker notes that "their relationship anticipates, palely, that ofJustinian and Theodora - and damns
the imperial couple by association" (Brubaker, "Sex, Lies, and Intertexuality," 87).
18 Procopius, Secret History, 6.1
19 Procopius, Secret History, 10.13
20 Procopius, Secret History, 17.27. For specific examples, see 4.13, 4.21, 14.8.
21 Brubaker, "Sex, Lies, and Intertexuality," 91-4
22 Procopius, Secret History, 5.27, 8.3
23 Procopius, Secret History, 16.1; see also Wars, 5.2.3.
24 Michael Edward Stewart, The Soldier's Life: Martial Virtues and Manly Romanitas in the Early Byzantine
Empire (Leeds: Κismet, 2016), 272
25 Α. Daniel Frankforter, 'Άmalasuntha, Procopius, and a Woman's Place," JWH 8.2 (1996): 41-57 at
48; Stewart, Soldier's Life, 273.
26 Procopius, Wars, 5.25.13; Secret History, 1.14.
27 Ιη Secret History, 1.14, Procopius pledges to explain the deposition of Silveήus in detail "in a
later book."
28 Οη the other hand, there was in Late Antiquity increasing involvement and acceptance of the role of
imperial women in ecclesiastical matters such as this. SeeJulia Hillner, 'Ίmpeήal Women and Cleήcal
Exile in Late Antiquity," SLA 3.3 (2019): 369-412 at 396-406.
29 Jeffrey Richards, The Popes and the Papacy in the Early Middle Ages, 476-752 (London: Routledge &
Kegan Paul, 1979), 131-2; Rosamond McΚitteήck, "The Papacy and Byzantium in the Seventh- and
Early Eighth-Century Sections of the Liber Pontijicalis," Papers of the British School at Rome 84 (2016):
241-73 at 247.
30 Liber Pontijicalis, 60.8, trans. Raymond Davis, The Book rif Pontiffs, 3rd edn. (Liverpool: LUP,
2001), 54.
31 Liber Pontijicalis, 60.8.
38 For another domestic intervention of Antonina, her managing of Belisarius's water supply, see
Procopius, Wars, 3.13.24 and further discussion below.
41 Tac. Ann. 1.69. Ι am indebted to Whately, "Women and the Military in the Age of Justinian"
(forthcoming) for this reference.
42 Compare to the way Procopius did highlight the unusual nature of Belisaήus's authoήty οη the Afήcan
and Italian expeditions: Belisaήus received "supreme authority over all" and "the authority of an
emperor" (Wars, 3.11.18-20).
375
David Alan Parnell

45 Liberatus, Breviarium, 22.22-5, ed. Ε. Schwartz, Abrege de l'histoire des nestoriens et des eutychiens (Paήs:
CERF, 2019), my translation.
46 Liberatus, Breviarium, 22.68-73, my translation.
47 Victor of Tunnuna, Chronica, 542.1.21-23, ed. Τ. Mommsen, MGH ΑΑ, vol ΧΙ, my translation.
48 For more οη the growing acceptance of the involvement of powerful women ίη ecclesiastical affairs ίη
this peήod, see Hillner, 'Ίmpeήal Women," 396-406.
50 Whately argues that Roman campaign armies were pήmaήly a male space: "Women and the Military
ίη the Age of Justinian" (forthcoming)
52 That Roman soldiers and officers were expected to find sexual partners οη campaign is suggested by
Procopius's praise ofBelisaήus for not having sex with anyone other than his wife (Wars, 7.1.11-12).
53 Procopius, Wars, 7.12.11. Procopius surpήsingly does not seem to judge John for this ίη Secret
History 5.7-15.
56 That Procopius thought personal care was important can be seen from his bitter cήticism ofJustinian
not sleeping or enjoying food and dήnk (Secret History, 13.28).
57 Procopius, Wars, 7.11.13, 15-16.
59 Treadgold, Early Byzantine Historians, 184-90; Geoffrey Greatrex, "Perceptions of Procopius ιη
Recent Scholarship," Histos 8 (2014): 76-121 at 97.
60 Treadgold, Early Byzantine Historians, 187; Greatrex, "Perceptions of Procopius," 100.
61 Treadgold, Early Byzantine Historians, 190.
62 Fisher, "Theodora and Antonina," 268. Some have argued that the Wars might reflect not just
Procopius's personal opinion, but that ofBelisaήus as well. See Averil Cameron, Procopius and the Sixth
Century B( erkeley: UCP, 1985), 134-8; Kaldellis, Procopius, 12.
63 Stewart, Soldier's Life, 257-8.
64 Kaldellis, Procopius, 203; Greatrex, "Perceptions of Procopius," 98.
66 Greatrex, "Perceptions of Procopius," 90.
67 Juan Signes Codoiier, "Der Histoήker und der Walfisch: Tiersymbolik und Milleniarismus ίη der
Kήegsgechichte Prokops," ίη Zwischen Polis und Provinz und Peripherie: Beitrage zur byzantinischen
Geschichte und Kultur, ed. L.M. Hoffmann (Wiesbaden, 2005), 37-58 at 55-7.
69 Kaldellis, Procopius, 45; Greatrex, "Perceptions of Procopius," 96.
70 Henning Borm, "Procopius, His Predecessors, and the Genesis of the Anecdota: Antimonarchic dis
course ίη Late Antique Histoήography," ίη Antimonarchic Discourse in Antiquity, ed. Η.Borm (Stuttgart:
Franz Steiner Verlag, 2015), 305-46 at 329-30.
73 Neville, Gender, 4(}-2; Brubaker, "Sex, Lies, and Intertexuality," 91; Fisher, "Theodora and
Antonina," 258-9.
74 Procopius, Wars, 6.7.4, 7.30.3.
75 Procopius, Secret History, 2.2, 1.13.
76 Procopius, Secret History, 2.18; for the downfall ofJohn see Wars, 1.25, and for the Persian war duήng
this time see Wars, 2.16-19.
77 Procopius, Secret History, 2.21; the whole episode is descήbed ίη 2.1-25.
79 For an evaluation of Justinian's mercy, see David Alan Parnell, ''Justinian's Clemency and God's
Clemency," Βυζαντινά Σύμμεικτα 30 (2020): 11-30.
376
21
READING GRECO-ROMAN
GENDER IDEALS ΙΝ BYZANTIUM:
CLASSICAL HEROES AND
EASTERN ROMAN GENDER
Leonora Neville
Eastem Romans seem to have believed that both certain propensities and dispositions were in
herent in the physiological constitution of male and female bodies and that are all humans had the
ability to act contrarily and dispute the control of these "natural" tendencies over their actions.
Nature gave each human a set of proclivities that went with their body: rationality and self
control were thought to come with male bodies, iπationality, and subjection to emotion with
female bodies. Υet each human had the ability to act with more or fewer of the characteήstics that
were associated with masculine or feminine behaviour. Virtues and vices were so tightly linked
with conceptions of masculine and feminine behaviour that ethical perfoπnance is often indis
tinguishable from gender perfoπnance in the logic of eastem Roman texts. Because key virtues
such as self-control were aspects of masculinity, acting with virtue meant exhibiting the beha
viours that were expected of men. Both men and women could act like men, or not. When
women acted like men, they were expressing more virtue than was expected for their gender.
When men acted like women, they were degenerate and displaying a gross lack of virtue.
Gender was hence frequently descήbed in eastern Roman texts as a matter of performance
that involved constant effort and considerable concern. Noπnatively gendered behaviour was
never stable but took continual attention and practice.1 Αη overly emotional man became
female.2 Aπnies acted like men, until they broke and ran.3 Women's perfoπnances of "ex
ceptional" masculinity seem in fact to have been fairly routine matters of ongoing attention. 4
Because women were believed to be naturally flighty, inconstant, irrational, and emotional, the
social ηοπη was for them to act with great restraint, limiting speech and movement, keeping
eyes downward, and hair bound.5 Α great deal of energy seems to have been spent οη en
couraging women and men to fight against the impulses thought to be inherent in their nature
so that they could achieve greater levels of virtue, which was defined through a particular
construct of masculinity.
Ethical training hence seems to have been vitally important within medieval eastem Roman
culture, and the continual work of maintaining proper gender perfoπnances may provide a
partial explanation for one of the most stήking characteήstics of that culture: the habit of
upholding ancient and biblical models for doing just about everything. From saints painted οη
church walls to formulas for selling property, people were confronted with examples of how
DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-25 377

Leonora Neville
they were supposed to be and doing sornething properly usually involved following a centuήes
old rnodel for doing it. Allusions to biblical characters, Chήstian heroes, and pre-Chήstian
rnythological and historical figures are one of the rnost pervasive and obvious characteήstics of
eastern Rornan culture. Broad vaήeties of wήtten discourse-hyrnns, serrnons, histories, stoήes,
orations, letters, laws-frequently use references to past figures as a rneans of forceful expres
sion.6 Sorne lives of saints contain long descήptions that are stήngs of references to different
biblical figures.7 Visual prograrns in churches depict parades of past saints and biblical characters
with rnultiple scenes inviting liturgical participants to irnitate those seen οη the walls.8
Whatever the rnediurn or the rnessage, eastern Rornans spoke through irnages of others and
references to the past far rnore often than not.
The irnitative habit is not a rnatter of elite rhetoήc, but a deeply ingrained rnethod for
ensuήng that one was behaving properly. One learned how to behave and what ernotions were
appropήate by rnodelling oneself οη past exarnples of virtuous people. One equally learned
what ernotions and behaviours needed to be avoided by studying negative exarnples of villains,
sinners, and the sirnply unsuccessful. The Psalrns furnished a cornrnonly rnernoήsed repository
of first-person speech that eastern Rornan wornen and rnen recited as a forrn of prayer and also
as rneans of self-expression. The words of the psalrnist were taught as the best words for ex
pressing the feelings of the speaker.9 Elite authors who alluded to the tσpoi and typσi of classical
texts were extending the habits of rnind long forrned through irnitative use of religious texts to a
broader cannon of suitable rnodels. While the classicisrn of elite texts has rarely been studied in
conjunction with pious recitation of scriptural and liturgical poetry, both practices are quite
clearly aspects of the sarne phenornenon.10 Practising being like another-whether using the
words of David or Horner-taught eastern Rornans how to act and what they ought to feel.
Describing sorneone by saying who they were like-whether it was Abraharn or
Alexander-was a way of accurately portraying their character.
Ιη the interpretation of Byzantine gender practices sketched fleetingly above, allusions to
ancient and biblical rnodels are seen as playing key roles in the articulation and enforcernent of
gender norrns. This raises the question, however, how could ancient figures be used as nor
rnative rnodels for ethical practices that differed significantly frorn those of their own society?
How could an ancient Greek person-whose norrns of sexual rnorality differed significantly
frorn those of the rnedieval Eastern Rornans-corne to be taken by thern as a rnodel for those
later ethical behaviours? Ancient figures were invoked as rnodels of behaviours that they
thernselves would have hardly understood. For instance, Agesilaus the fourth-century BCE
Κing of Sparta, a polytheist whose sexual attraction to young rnen was acceptable and open
within his society, appears in the early-twelfth-century CE history by George Kedrenos as a
rnodel of celibacy. He is rernernbered for having the strength of character to turn down a kiss
and upheld as an exarnple of the virtue of chastity.
Agesilaus is a particularly stήking exarnple of an ancient figure who appears in a rnedieval
eastern Rornan text playing an ethical role that he could scarcely have irnagined. Flying at a
higher altitude than usual for studies of ancient and rnedieval cultural history, this essay will
endeavour to work out precisely how his story was preserved and transforrned so that we can
better understand Eastern Rornan interactions with their classical rnodels. Agesilaus's story is
sufficiently rare that we can indeed trace it with a rernarkable degree of specificity frorn
Xenophon to Kedrenos. For 16 centuήes the story about Agesilaus involves sexual ternptation
and the virtue of sσphrσsyne ("discretion" or "chastity"), but the rneanings and contexts of
sophrσsyne evolve and drift, allowing for the later Rornans to see their ancient ancestors as
rnodels of behaviour that those ancestors certainly would have disavowed. Tracing the evo
lution of this one anecdote lets us see the rnechanisrns of continuity and adaptation in action.
378
Classical Heroes
Near the end of the eleventh or beginning of the twelfth century CE, George Kedrenos
wrote a history from Creation to 1057 CE, in which he does not include the history of the
ancient city-state ofSparta.11 Kedrenos however does remember one ofSparta's more famous
kings:
Agesilaus, desiήng a beautiful boy, and wanting to kiss him, prevented himself, fleeing
the harm."12
Νο context is presented for this event, nor is Agesilaus otherwise identified or grounded in
histoήcal time. He is mentioned in the course of a digression placed chronologically in the reign
of Claudius, roughly four centuήes after he lived. This is not a story aboutSpartan history, but
an example of sexual self-control. Agesilaus is mentioned in a stήng of anecdotes about the
sexual choices of ancient figures. The sentence οη Agesilaus is followed by anecdotes about
Alexander and Cyrus:
Alexander did not dare to look at the extremely good-looking and virgin daughter of
Daήus, consideήng it completely shameful and very inappropriate for a man who had
conquered men to be captured by a woman. And even Cyrus the Κing of the Persians
did not deign to look at the amazingly beautiful girl set aside for him and famous for
having iπesistible beauty. But since frequently one suffers something from just looking
and not saying anything, so he advised neither to speak nor act: "For fire," he said,
13
"burns what it is near, but beauty that which stands at a distance."
This stήng of anecdotes is deployed as part of an extended argument that monastic celibacy is
virtuous. Agesilaus, Alexander, and Cyrus join a variety of other non-Chήstian and Chήstian
examples and thinkers who are marshalled as evidence that celibacy is not a later Chήstian
development but rather a widely admired ancient practice.
We have every reason to think that Agesilaus would not have agreed with this argument and
would likely have had difficulty understanding it at all. Unpacking the story of how he ended
up as a witness to the value of celibacy-and nothing else-can tel1 us a lot about the processes
by which the later eastern Romans apprehended and used ancient culture.
The story of Agesilaus refusing a kiss derives from Xenophon's encomium Agesilaus where it
serves as an example of his strength to resist desire, his sophrσsyne. Ιη praising the virtues of
Agesilaus, Xenophon lauds his hero's restraint by telling the story of how he refused the tra
ditional Persian kiss of greeting from Megabates, the son ofSpithridates, even though "he loved
Megabates ... with all the intensity of an ardent nature." 14 Xenophon descήbes Agesilaus as
resisting the kiss with great effort and later asking a fήend to talk Megabates into trying again
before changing his mind a second time and confirming his choice to resist. Within the
Agesilaus, the desire for the kiss is portrayed as a natural appetite that Agesilaus had the strength
to resist. Agesilaus's chastity is "an aspect of his sσphrosyne together with his ability to abstain
from food and dήnk when hungry and thirsty, to sleep little ... and to endure extremes of hot
and cold weather."15 The strength to resist desires was associated with freedom because those
with sophrosyne were not enslaved to their bodily wants.16
Xenophon is also the ultimate source ofKedrenos's anecdote about Cyrus and the beautiful
girl. Ιη Xenophon's Cyropaedia, he dwells at length οη a story in which Cyrus resists looking at
Panthea, who is a recuπing character with a complex story arc.17 She is first introduced as an
unnamed captured woman of great beauty. Cyrus's fήend, Araspas, who has seen Panthea, urges
him to go look at her because of her amazing beauty. Cyrus refuses, saying, 'Ί am afraid that she
379
Leonora Neville
will herself much more readily persuade me to come again to gaze οη her. And in consequence
of that Ι might sit there, in neglect of my duties, idly gazing upon her."18 This leads to a debate
between Cyrus and Araspas about whether eros is a matter of free will in which Araspas claims
that the strong can choose whether to fall in love and that, therefore, both he and Cyrus should
be able to look at Panthea without danger. He is promptly proven wrong when he falls for her.
Cyrus's strength is shown through his prudence to respect the danger of eros and avoid the
opportunity of looking at her.
Xenophon uses the story of Agesilaus refusing the kiss straightforwardly and explicitly as an
example of his hero's sophrosyne whereas his story of Cyrus and Panthea illustrates Cyrus's
wisdom and prudence. Cyrus is not depicted as struggling against his desires, as is Agesilaus,
because he was smart enough to avoid facing temptation in the first place. The Agesilaus and
Cyropaedia were significant texts in the rhetoήcal tradition of encomiastic wήting and the latter
19
was the work of Xenophon most copied in the eastern empire. Ιη the late ninth century,
Xenophon's Cyropaedia formed a model for the funeral oration written by Leo VI for his
father.20 As they remained models of encomia for centuήes, the key virtues extolled continued
to be valoήsed.
The story about Alexander's restraint before Daήus's female relatives appears in Plutarch's
Life rif Alexander where Plutarch makes it an example of Alexander's sophrosyne. When Darius's
mother, wife, and children were captured after the defeat of the Persians at the battle of Issus,
Alexander ordered them to be treated with respect. Plutarch's story about Alexander's restraint
with Daήus's wife seems to deliberately recall Xenophon's story of Panthea.21 Ιη Plutarch's
telling Alexander's devotion to the virtue of sophronsyne seems to be a pήme cause of his victory:
Following the victory at Issus ...Plutarch dwells for three chapters (21-3) οη
Alexander's ability to resist the temptations of sex, food, and drink. The extended
focus οη sδphrosyne, building from Alexander's rejection ofDarius' hedonistic lifestyle,
dwarfs the descήption of the battle, creating the impression that moral, not military,
supeήoήty is what really distinguishes the two men.22
Plutarch emphasises the beauty of Daήus's wife and daughters and makes the threat of sexual
violence against the women explicit, saying that the "chaste women ...lived apart from the
speech and sight of men, as though guarded in sacred and inviolable virgins' chambers instead of
in an enemy's camp."23 This sexualization of the story helps keep the focus οη Alexander's self
control. Plutarch then makes the ethical lesson explicit: "Alexander, as it would seem, con
sideήng the mastery of himself a more kingly thing than the conquest of his enemies, neither
laid hands upon these women, nor did he know any other before marήage except for
Barsine."24 But while he admired the beauty of other captured women, "displaying in ήvalry
with their fair looks the beauty of his own sobriety and self-control, he passed them by as
though they were lifeless images for display."25 Plutarch's Alexander is incensed by proposals
that he should take sexual advantage of other captured boys and rebuked his soldiers and
commanders for rape. He claims that not only did Alexander not see the wife ofDaήus, but he
did not allow others to talk about her beauty.26 Plutarch goes οη to say that Alexander con
sidered both sleep and sexual intercourse as aήsing from the same natural weakness and extolls
Alexander's control over his appetite for food and drink.27
These three stoήes become key examples of men acting with sophrosyne in Plutarch's
wήtings.28 By drawing out the parallels between the stoήes of Alexander and Cyrus, Plutarch
makes both episodes examples of a common ethical stance valoήsing resistance to sexual
temptation.29 Plutarch's Agesilaus retells the story about Megabates with an emphasis οη
380
Classical Heroes
Agesilaus's struggle in the face of desire. He emphasises the strength of Agesilaus's attraction to
Magabastes and describes Agesilaus as wavering and exercising self-control despite being sig
nificantly troubled by temptation. 30
These three stoήes come up in Plutarch's other essays and they seem to have consistent roles
as examples of wisdom and prudence. Plutarch connects the stoήes of Alexander and Cyrus as
examples of wisely avoiding temptation in his essay On Curiosity. 31 Here Plutarch gives advice
οη how to train oneself not to be a gossiping busybody, starting with simple things like not
reading every inscήption one passes οη the road and moving οη to ignoήng public altercations
and other more significant acts of self-control. He explains that "For as Socrates used to advise
the avoidance of such foods as tempt us to eat when we are not hungry and such dήnks as tempt
us to imbibe when we are not thirsty, so we also should avoid and guard against such sights and
sounds as master and attract us without fulfilling any need of ours. " 32 This leads him to invoke
the stories of Cyrus declining to look at Panthea and Alexander not looking at the wife of
Daήus. Cyrus and Alexander become models of self-control that Plutarch asks his readers to
emulate.
Plutarch makes much the same point that one should avoid situations that would let passions
aήse in his essay οη How to Study Poetry. 33 Mter counselling that men with a weakness for a
particular failing ought to be especially vigilant in keeping themselves away from that temp
tation, he invokes Agesilaus refusing the kiss and Cyrus not looking at Panthea:
Mter the same manner should he that is fond of wine be οη his guard against
drunkenness, and he that is amorous against love. So did Agesilaus, who would not
submit to being kissed by the handsome boy who approached him, so did Cyrus, who
dared not even to look at Panthea. 34
Ιη these cases, the stoήes of Agesilaus, Cyrus, and Alexander serve Plutarch as examples of
sophrosyne as he makes a resounding case that prudent control over one's passions is an extra
ordinaήly important virtue. He further makes this basic point in other lives in which indulgence
in passion brings down a great man. His Anthony is destroyed by his uncontrolled erσs. 35
Pompey's excessive attention to his wives was both a sign and symptom of losing touch and
control over the political situation. 36
Plutarch was a popular author in the later empire throughout the medieval era. His essays
were collected into the anthology we call the Moralia in the thirteenth century, but rather than
take that as a sign of disinterest, we can be impressed that so much of his work circulated
independently for so long. 37 The influence of his wήtings are seen in a wide variety of later
texts. 38 For example, his essay On the Progress rif Virtue was referenced meaningfully in a tenth
century life of Peter of Argos by Theodore ofNicaea. 39 Plutarch's Lives form the backbone of
significant sections of Zonaras's twelfth-century history. 40 Tzetzes's appeals to the character of
Cato in the Chiliads show close engagement with Plutarch's life of Cato. 41 He is cited as a
source of information in the ninth-century history of George the Monk and in that of George
Kedrenos. 42
Plutarch's project of compaήng Greeks and Romans of different eras has the effect of
softening differences between the culture of the characters from the fifth and fourth centuries
BCE and those of the late Republican era. By assessing them and naπating their lives from a
common viewpoint he made it easier for later generations to see Greeks of antiquity and the
Romans of the Republican and early Impeήal eras as all shaήng a sense of virtue that was, while
pre-Christian, hardly jarήng with their own ethics. Plutarch does not use these stoήes to argue
that sex was bad, but his emphasis οη teaching his readers how to control their erotic urges
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Leonora Neville
allowed later wήters to elide his ethical teachings into their own. The similaήty in Plutarch's
treatment of these three anecdotes and his deployment of them in the service of a single ethic
lesson about the importance of restraint likely created the conditions that prompted subsequent
wήters to think of them as a set.
Engagement with Plutarch played a key role in the Chήstian adoption of classical culture.43
Basil ofCaesarea's highly influential Address to Young Men on How to Read Greek Literature can be
seen as in dialog with Plutarch's How to Study Poetry. 44 Ιη a general sense, Basil's essay is like
Plutarch's in that "a like-rninded reading of the same literature has led to sirnilar conclusions."45
More specifically, Basil's essay uses the story of Alexander's restraint with Daήus's wife to praise
self-control, in a way that is strongly reminiscent of the point Plutarch makes in the Life rif
Alexander. 46 Significantly, Basil's version takes the step of praising self-control, not only for the
reasons of maintaining political standing and mastery of self, but because sex in itself is bad:
Nor should we pass by the story of Alexander, who took the daughters of Daήus'
pήsoner and, although they were reported to exhibit an amazing beauty, he did not
think it ήght to look upon them. Rather, he judged it to be a shameful thing for a man
who had conquered other men to be defeated by women. For this amounts to the
same thing as in that saying, that the one who has looked upon a woman with pleasure
has committed adultery, even if he has not acted, but because he has admitted desire
into his souls, he is guilty of the crime.47
The claim that Alexander's self-control "amounts to the same thing" as consideήng looking at
women with pleasure as a form of adultery is a crucial, and large, step in the development of
eastern Roman ethics. Both Plutarch and Basil are animated by the concern with unrestrained
desire and guarding against "allowing έπιθυμία free reign."48 Yet Basil's interpretation clearly
expands the ancient idea that the ability to resist temptation is an important strength, to include
thinking of sex itself as a cήme. Ιη Basil's reading, the lustful thoughts themselves are sinful. Ιη
this Basil endorses and furthers the strenuous efforts of Chήstian theologians to effect a radical
change in the ethical thinking and sexual practices of late antique society.49 Sex has become an
evil that strong men resist rather than a distraction they regulate.
Ιη the fifth century, we find the anecdotes about Agesilaus, Alexander, and Cyrus resisting
sexual temptation told in quick succession in one of the letters attributed to Isidore of Pelusia,
using a wording is quite sirnilar to that found in George Kedrenos's twelfth-century text.50 This
collection of letters appears to have been wήtten in the first 40 years of the fifth century in
Egypt and the attήbution to Isidore of Pelusia is plausible.51
Isidore of Pelusia's bήef letter is an elaboration οη the injunction attήbuted to Jesus in the
Gospel of Matthew, 'Ίf your ήght eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away; it is
better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to be thrown into hell."52
Here sight is the potential entry point for sin and damnation, rather than excessive indulgence.
The entire letter is making a case for the importance of avoiding temptation that is caused by
looking at whatever is considered alluήng. He quotes the words attήbuted to Jesus, equating
looking lustfully with adultery and texts such as the Wisdom ofSirah: "many have been seduced
by the beauty of a woman."53
Isidore makes his case first οη the authoήty of biblical and patήstic examples and then turns to
examples from outside the Chήstian community οη the grounds that they also cared about so
phrosyne. 54 He attήbutes an aphoήsm to Socrates about how daήng to kindle the passions by
looking at someone beautiful makes it easy to fall οη a sword or catch fire and attήbutes to
Diogenes a disparaging comment about men dressing up to chase men, followed by the stoήes of
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Agesilaus not looking at the Persian boy, and Alexander not looking at Daήus's woman. Isidore
next claims that not only the Hellenes but even the barbaήans provide examples and tells the story
of Cyrus not looking at Panthea as a case in point. He then concludes by exhorting his readers to
take the advice that is thus offered by Gospels, Proverbs, Wisdom, Hellenes, and Persians.
Because the stoήes of Alexander, Agesilaus, and Cyrus all already had been interpreted as
exemplary cases of virtuous men displaying their sophrsyne, Isidore was able to employ them in
making his case for resisting visual temptations. Isidore, like Plutarch, was preaching the im
portance of sophrosyne, just with a modified sense of the purposes to which self-control ought to
be put. Isidore's monastic audience was urged to reject sex completely. While this stance would
have been unfamiliar to Agesilaus, his strength in refusing Megabates's kiss remained a valoήsed
model of action.
The swift telling of the episodes in the letter indicates that the audience was expected to
already know the stoήes:
Agesilaus, wanting to kiss a beautiful boy, whom he loved, avoided it. Alexander did
not dare look at the woman of Darius, thinking it shameful for a man who had
conquered men to be captured by a woman. If not only the Hellenes, but also bar
barians provide useful examples, Ι beg you not to do this. Ενeη Cyrus the King of the
Persians did not dare to look at Panthea, set aside for him and famous for having
iπesistible beauty. But since frequently one suffers something from looking and not
speaking, he advised against looking at her. "For fire" he said, "burns that which it is
near but beauty what stands at a distance." 55
The words attήbuted to Cyrus are an abbreviated paraphrase of his advice to Araspas.56 Ιη this
abbreviated version of Agesilaus's story, the detail that he was offered a kiss that he refused is
lost, opening the possibility of interpreting Agesilaus as the instigator of the encounter.
We can safely think that Isidore had read Basil's essay οη ancient literature and at least some
of Plutarch's essays. Isidore's use of the three anecdotes follows Plutarch's interpretation and
emphasis of them as examples of sophrosyne. Beneker's modern study of Plutarch discusses these
stoήes in quick succession as key examples of Plutarch's thinking οη sexuality and politics, an
interpretation evidently shared by the fifth-century author who also saw them as making a
comrnon ethical point.57
Parts of Isidore's letter found their way into a long digression οη the oήgins of monastic
celibacy that occurs in the history of George the Monk. This history was wήtten in the middle
of the ninth century and goes from Creation to 842 with lots of digressions for moralizing
stoήes. Judging from the manuscήpt tradition, George the Monk's history was one of the most
popular histoήes wήtten in Greek in the Middle Ages.58
While there are ηο grounds for ruling out the possibility that the digression was wήtten by
George the Monk, it is possible that he included an essay οη monasticism that was already in
circulation. The following programrnatic statement is plausibly, but not necessaήly, the be
ginning of an earlier essay:
Ι put together these few statements, selecting from many, thinking it necessary οη
account of those questioning when, where, and wherefore the monastic way of life
and ascetic practices started. How, following the new and recent doctrines of the
impious and god-hating crap-named mystagog, the icon-fighters, the new Jews, in the
height of mania, insanity, and depravity, are now impiously and nonsensically re
jecting and spitting οη the monastic polity with the other divine traditions and laws of
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the apostolic church, not understanding neither what they say, nor what they affirm?
But we believe it to have an ancient and old beginning following the teachings of the
holy fathers.59
The "crap-named mystagog" was Constantine V (741-775). The oήentation of the discussion
as a response to his iconoclastic positions suggests that it may have been composed in the eighth
century but does not preclude a later composition. George the Monk's history goes up through
842 CE, just before the ending of the second peήod of iconoclasm, and it contains other
strongly anti-iconoclastic naπatives. This defence of monasticism appears chronologically
placed in the reign of Claudius following a descήption of the evangelical work of Mark in
Egypt. This placement portrays monasticism as among one of the earliest aspects of Chήstianity.
Parts of this digression οη monasticism were included in the Constantinian Excerpts, a lavish
tenth-century reorganization of historical knowledge considered useful for the project of
60
goveming the empire.
As promised, the digression is a collection of evidence from ancient teachings that prove the
antiquity of monasticism.61 As it appears in George the Monk's history, it contains quotations
from the Gospels, Basil of Caesarea, Nilus's οη Monastic Life, Chrysostom, and Gregory
Nazianzus.Sayings ofSocrates and other quotations from Plato about virtue are followed by the
statement that "not onlySocrates and Plato and the other Hellenes abhorred the unjust life, but
62
many of the barbaήans." The author then invokes the Hyp erboreans, Brahmans, theScythian
Anacharsis, and Chiron the Centaur as examples of people who practiced prudence and
63
ήghteousness. Α few more quotations from Plato then bήng the argument to the anecdotes
about Agesilaus, Alexander, and Cyrus. These examples are followed by further arguments for
monastic virtue grounded in patήstic teachings.
The author of the digression οη monasticism does not appear to have gotten the quotations
fi:-om Plato direcdy fi:-om reading the dialogs. All of the quotations fi:-om Plato can be found in
Theodoret of Cyrus's Cure rif the Greek maladies, which is a fifth-century attempt to use ancient
philosophy to prove the truth of Chήstianity.64 The Platonic quotations in the digression
however do not appear in the same order that they do in Theodoret's work, and are not deployed
to make similar arguments. Whoever put together the essay οη monasticism seems to have used
Theodore as a sourcebook οη Plato fi:-om which they constructed their own interpretation.
Isidore's ήff οη the ancient men who avoided looking at sexually tempting people becomes
one of many elements in this far longer discussion of the antiquity and virtue of monasticism.
The overarching goal of the digression was to prove that monasticism was not an innovation
but tied to earliest Chήstian practices. This case is made hyp erbolically through the argument
that the virtue of celibacy was not even a Chήstian invention but long pre-dated the
Incarnation. Agesilaus is here making the case for celibacy as well as sophrosyne.
The textual similaήties between Isidore's letter and George the Monk's history leave ηο
doubt that one author was looking at the other's text while wήting. When Isidore's text was
incorporated into George's history, some changes were made. The stoήes were expanded
slighdy, which would have the effect of making them intelligible to an audience who did not
know their oήginal versions. The digression adds the words "prevented himself, fleeing the
harm" to expand οη Isidore's terse story : 'Άgesilaus, desiήng a beautiful boy, and wanting to
kiss him, prevented himself, fleeing the harm."65 The addition helps the story make sense
without knowledge of the context of the episode. Similarly, whereas Isidore's version of
Alexander's story used only a feminine definite article to indicate a woman belonging to Daήus,
George the Monk's version calls her "the extremely good-looking and virgin daughter of
Daήus."66 He also removes Panthea's proper name and calls her instead "some marvellous girl,"
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Classical Heroes
κόρην τινά θαυμασίαν. The choice of kσre perhaps indicates the author had lost track of
Panthea's status as a marήed woman.67 George follows Isidore in summarizing Cyrus's advice
οη the dangers of beauty.
These slight elaborations of the stoήes were likely necessary to bήng the whole audience
along, regardless of whether everyone could be counted οη to remember their Plutarch. Some
of the manuscήpts of George the Monk record the name Gelisaos instead of Agesilaus, and
some Arkesilaos, indicating that their scήbes did not recognise the name.68 Isidore's distinction
between Greek and barbaήan is lost in the medieval text as George's version omits 'Ίf not only
the Hellenes but also the barbarians provide examples." 69 For the later author the divide seems
to be between Chήstian models and ancient ones.
The digression οη monasticism lists a vaήety of ancient figures in making a common moral
point that celibacy is virtuous. Whereas Isidore's letter exhorts the audience not to look at
tempting people because it is dangerous, the digression focuses more tightly οη not having sex.
The Chήstian virtue of sexual restraint is portrayed in the digression as the culmination of a far
longer and deeper tradition. The cumulative effect of Plutarch's wήtings was to draw the
common theme of the importance of self-control over one's appetites from the lives of distant
figures such as Agesilaus, Cyrus, and Alexander. Ιη the context of the digression οη monasti
cism, these figures are used to argue that avoiding sex is always virtuous and carnal appetites
should be denied altogether.
When George Kedrenos composed his history, around the turn of the twelfth century, the
history of George the Monk was one of his many sources and he chose to include a much
shortened version of the digression οη monasticism. Kedrenos's editoήal choices made this
section of his history far less about monasticism-although he includes the programmatic
statement that set the digression as a refutation of the kσprσnymus mystagog-and far more about
ancient precedents for the virtue of self-control. It works to draw strong continuities between
the sexual morality of his own culture and the ethics taught by Socrates and lived by men like
Agesilaus. Ιη the telling of the anecdotes about Agesilaus, Alexander, and Cyrus, Kedrenos
follows the wording that appears in George the Monk quite closely. The digression occurs in
the same place as in George the Monk's history, duήng the reign of Claudius, and nearly all of
Kedrenos's changes are simply cuts to the earlier version.70
Υet, when edited by Kedrenos, the texture of the argument changes remarkably. Kedrenos
shortens the whole discussion, but he does not cut evenly down from both the patήstic and
non-Chήstian voices. He cuts heavily from the quotations from the theologians, and leaves
most of the quotations from Plato and the anecdotes of non-Chήstian characters. Mter the
statement that the digression intends to refute the iconoclasts, Kedrenos includes one paragraph
that quotes Basil and asserts that Gregory, Chrysostom, "and many other holy and blessed men"
attest to the antiquity of monastic life in a vaήety of texts. He then moves straight οη to the
non-Chήstian sources, saying, "Νο one should complain if we introduce some witnesses from
outside." He then reproduces many of the quotations attήbuted to Plato and Socrates, and the
anecdotes about the ancient prudent men. He wraps up the digression a few lines after the story
of Cyrus. Kedrenos's version of the digression is 5 pages (110 lines) long in the modern edition,
whereas George the Monk's version is 26 pages.71 The vast majoήty of his cuts are to Chήstian
theological justifications for strict monastic celibacy.72
Whereas the earlier version has the wisdom of Plato and the story of Chiron aflirm the case
made by Paul, Jesus, and Chrysostom, among others, in Kedrenos's version Plato and Chiron
end up doing the heavy lifting in an argument for celibacy without much help. Ιη Kedrenos's
hands, the digression becomes a fairly stunning claim for a single, unified vision of sexual
morality stretching from antiquity to his era. Agesilaus is an ethical model for Kedrenos's readers
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because he is envisioned as sharing their morality. Two of the few patήstic quotationsKedrenos
does preserve are statements that defend marήage as a sound, if less than ideal, alternative to
monasticism, one from Athanasius of Alexandήa73 and one from Basil of Caesarea. 74 While the
overall point of the digression remains proving the antiquity and validity of monastic life, by
choosing to preserve these two quotations while cutting dozens of others insisting οη complete
celibacy, Kedrenos creates a digression that is far more accepting of marήage as part of an ethical
life. The classical teachings οη control over passions are not dissonant with the ethical lessons in
Kedrenos's version of the digression.
Kedrenos could probably count οη most of his readers to know the standard Christian texts
arguing for the supeήority of the monastic life and so was cutting mateήal that would have been
familiar. He expected his audience would be more interested in the quotations from Plato and
the stories of pre-Chήstian moral exemplars. While the patήstic texts were likely better known,
the pre-Chήstian mateήal was treated as a higher value in his history.
The manuscήpts ofKedrenos's history get Agesilaus's name right, possibly because of greater
familiarity with classical texts in the late eleventh and twelfth centuήes. By the time Kedrenos
was wήting, Agesilaus would have been known from more extensive reading of Plutarch and
Xenophon.7 5 Kedrenos explicidy cites Plutarch as a source for several of the events, even when
his naπative is based οη earlier histoήes that do not cite Plutarch.7 6
WhileKedrenos's text is far less concerned with condemning all sexual activity, nevertheless
Agesilaus stands as an example of a virtuous man resisting a kiss. The pagan case for monasticism
probably was understood against a background of the Chήstian thinkers, even if their texts were
omitted. As more people read Plutarch, they did so against the background of the ethical shift
engineered by Basil, Isidore, and the author of the digression οη monasticism. Plutarch's
teachings οη the importance of self-control had become part of the Chήstian ethical system that
wanted self-control to be deployed in the service of stήct sexual continence or, better yet,
complete celibacy. Agesilaus is always good because of his sophrosyne, but the scale of prudence
changes from the exercise of self-control over natural desires to complete abstinence.
So far, our discussion has ignored the crucial question of changes in any importance attached
to the fact that Agesilaus had the strength not to kiss a boy. Condemnation of the homoerotic
nature of his desire is not part of the story in any version, but since he was heroic for not doing
it, the valoήsation of that choice is compatible with a stance that would have condemned him
for kissing boys more than for just for kissing. Significantly, there does not seem to be any
evidence for an era in which people did not understand that Agesilaus wanted to kiss the boy:
his desire was recognised, if not endorsed, in every version of the story.
The social acceptability of erotic attraction of men for boys changed in parallel to the larger
shift in sexual morality. When Xenophon wrote Agesilaus it was considered entirely normal and
unremarkable that a man like Agesilaus would be sexually attracted to a beautiful boy.77 As
Kenneth Dover put it in the foundational study of Greek sexuality, 'Ίf Agesilaos thought
homosexual relations wrong, evidently Xenophon did not think the impulse to those relations a
blemish in a character for which he had an unreserved adrniration." 78 Through at least the early
third century CE, it was considered ordinary that men would adrnire the beauty of male bodies
and expect that beauty to spark desire.79 The effΌrts of those advocating for restήcting sexual
behaviour in ways they defined as Chήstian included redefining same-gender erotic attraction as
sinful. 80 By the late fourth century, Emperor Theodosius Ι issued directives that men receiving
anal penetration be executed by public burning.81 Justinian further cήminalised sex between men,
based οη the gender of the participants alone rather than specific acts or roles played.82
While the momentousness of this shift cannot be minimised, the history of same-gender
desire in the later empire is not a steady progression from liberty to repression. Οη the one
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hand, some texts attest to vigorous condemnation of same-gender desire in the medieval eastern
empire.83 Justinian's prohibitions continued to be maintained in Roman legal codes throughout
the medieval peήod.84 George the Monk's history contains a vicious diatήbe against same
gender attraction, placed in his coverage of the reign of Justinian. This invective was added by
George and was not part of the sources he was following for this part of his history.85 Οη the
other hand, this condemnation exists alongside significant evidence for same-gender desire. If
one is able to "squint through the glare of the pyre of prohibition," the legal fulminations of the
emperors are themselves evidence of the reality and visibility of homoerotic desire.86 As with
much of the Justinianic corpus in the later empire, there seems to have been a significant gap
87
between the laws οη the books and the laws that were enforced. Constantine VII and
Theodoros ofKyzikos expressed desire for each other in letters in ways that, at rninimum, play
with sexual desire.88 Same-gender desire plays a crucial role in Symeon the New Theologian's
tenth ethical discourse, which "both models homoerotic desire and arouses it in its audience;
then ...redeploys this desire by integrating it into the desire for Chήst." 89 Kedrenos chose not
to include George the Monk's homophobic digression in his history. This is evidence, not for
monolithic condemnation, but for the existence of and vaήation in attitudes toward same
gender desire.90
Certainly, ηο one was feigning any confusion about why Agesilaus would want to kiss the
boy, and it seems the naturalness of his impulse was affirmed throughout the life of this story.
His strength is displayed in refraining from doing something that everyone understood he
wanted to. If the later medieval culture had shifted so radically that the audience would have
thought that a man kissing a man was gross or repulsive, Agesilaus would have gotten ηο credit
for resisting that desire. The story works because, in every telling, the cause of Agesilaus's
attraction was obvious.
It seems that eastern Romans in the twelfth century could use a fourth-century BCE
polytheist who openly expressed sexual desire for a young man as a moral exemplar because,
despite the bumps and adjustments, there was fundamentally a huge amount of ethical con
tinuity in eastern Mediteπanean culture. Kedrenos could read the story of Agesilaus refusing the
kiss in either George the Monk or Xenophon and see the same moral lesson, with which he
agreed. As much as the stern anti-sex moralizing of George the Monk differed from the ethics
espoused by Xenophon and Plutarch, in their adrniration for Agesilaus's restraint, they were in
agreement. Agesilaus would likely have had difficulty understanding the purposes to which his
expeήence had been put-and perhaps chagrined that none of his other deeds were considered
worth noting-but the key virtue of sophrσsyne was one that he did share with the eastern
Romans of the twelfth century.
Tracing this one story helps us see the mechanics of cultural transrnission. We can see how a
textual tradition-the copying of a bit of prose from one text to another-moved Agesilaus's
story from the fifth to twelfth centuήes CE, in close to the same form. Simultaneously, the
prestige and value of Plutarch and Xenophon meant that intellectuals could always access those
versions of the story as well. The fourth-century BCE encomium of Agesilaus was always
present as a pήsed example of that genre. The creation and dissemination of the medieval
versions happened in parallel to the copying and teaching of classical texts.
The story of Agesilaus's restraint also lets us see how the later readers could appreciate what
they had in common with their cultural ancestors while ignoήng, forgiving, or simply being
ignorant of how they differed. Many of the people who heard George the Monk's history in the
medieval era would not have recognised the reference to Xenophon, or known who Agesilaus
was, or understood much about the sexual ethics of classical Greece. What they would
have gotten from the story was that some important ancient man was a model for the virtue of
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self-control, and that therefore that people since time immemoήal had pήsed a virtue that was
significant for them. Those who went οη to greater leaming would read Xenophon and
Plutarch with the predisposition to see those authors as providing ethical teachings from which
they could learn. At the ήsk of stating the obvious, we have all the earlier texts because people
in the later empire pήsed them. 91 Both George Kedrenos and Isidore of Pelusia use the term
'Όutside," exothen, to describe pre-Chήstian thinkers with whom they agree. Far from posing a
challenge to Chήstian morality, the ήghtness of the moral system espoused by the later wήters is
validated and endorsed by the existence of 'Όutside" voices who agreed οη key points, such as
the value of self-control. The later wήters' emphasis is οη all the ways the outside figures
conform to their own ethics.
More leamed later Roman thinkers were likely appreciative of differences between
Xenophon's ethical world and their own, but a ήveted attention to distinguishing gradual
changes over time is a practice of the contemporary academy. We interpret the Psalms as a
theologically diverse anthology wήtten over the course of 500 years and see marked cultural
changes between the Iliad and the Odyssey. Το the eastern Romans, all Psalms were the work of
Κing David and all the Homeήc epics were wήtten by one blind poet. We are acutely aware
that the cultural context of composition of the Homeήc epics is not that of the composition of
the Psalms, or Plutarch, or Herodotus, or the Wisdom of Sirach, or Procopius, or the Life of
Anthσny, and so οη. For the eastern Romans, at least by the ninth century, all these texts were
parts of a pήsed ancient heήtage, and there is scant evidence for further distinctions of time and
place within the large bucket of ancient things. While later Roman intellectuals were hardly
blind to the differences between these texts, their imitative habit involved drawing implicit
compaήsons with all of these texts which were seen as having a remarkable degree of continuity
with their own moral system.
The process of weaving classical and Chήstian mateήal into a common culture seems to have
been well οη its way by the time we encounter Agesilaus in Isidore of Pelusia's version.
Plutarch's ethical teachings appear to have been a key waypoint in this evolution. Second
sophistic literati, fourth and fιfth-century theologians, and sixth-century jurists all engaged in
vaήous programs of analysing, codifying, and reconciling diverse aspects of classical heήtage
with their own worldviews. As vaήed as these intellectual projects undoubtedly were, they all
worked to bequeath to the medieval eastem Romans visions of antiquity that had already been
relatively homogenised and evened out. Radical changes in sexual morality became shrouded
from view and amalgamated into the ethical norms of late antique Eastem Mediteπanean. This
allowed George Kedrenos and his audience to perceive Agesilaus's ethics as consonant with
their own. Classical Greek figures served as examples of ethical behaviour because, rather than
standing as an example of foreignness, Xenophon's story aflirmed the central tenants of twelfth
century ethics. For all the changes, the continuity is stunning.
Notes
1 My fonnulation reads medieval texts as expressing a pervasive concem with performing expected
gender properly. Betancourt agrees οη the fragility of gender in Byzantium but sees examples of gender
fluidity as potentially fruitfully and liberatingly queer. Without disputing the interpretations of the
particular examples he discusses, Ι see that fragility manifested far more often as a restήctive and
constraining anxiety for most people most of the time, as proper gender conformity was constantly
threatened and questioned. Anna Komnene's strenuous efforts to cloak her creative intellectual work
in the moumful humility expected of a properly deferential woman speak poignantly to the necessity
of gender confonnity in her culture. Neville, Byzantine Gender, Past Imperfect (Adelaide: Arc
Humanities Press, 2019); Leonora Neville, Anna Komnene: The Life and Work of α Medieval Historian
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Classical Heroes
(Oxford: OUP, 2016); Roland Betancourt, Byzantine Intersectionality: Sexuality, Gender, and Race in the
Middle Ages (Princeton: PUP, 2020), 89-160. Other foundational studies of Byzantine gender:
Stavroula Constantinou, "Perfonning Gender in Lay Saints' Lives," BMGS 38. 1 (2014): 24-32;
Chaήs Messis, "Lectures sexuees de 1'alterite. Les Latins et identite romaine menacee pendant les
derniers siecles de Byzance,"Jahrbuch der Osterreichischen Byzantinistik 61 (2012): 151-70; LizJames, ed.,
Women, Men, and Eunuchs: Gender in Byzantium (London: Roudedge, 1997); Catia Galataήotou,
'Ήoly Women and Witches: Aspects of Byzantine Conceptions ofGender," BMGS 9 (1984): 55-94.
2 Οη Psellos's emotionalism as a self-presentation as female see Stratis Papaioannou, Michael Psellos:
Rhetoric and Authorship in Byzantium (Cambήdge: CUP, 2013), 192-231. Betancourt suggests that
"Psellus did not believe that their own gender identity matched their assigned sex." Betancourt,
Byzantine Intersectionality, 113-20. Οη emotions and gender: Stavroula Constantinou and Mati Meyer,
eds., Emotions and Gender in Byzantine Culture (Cham: Palgrave Macmillan, 2018).
3 One example: Michael Featherstone and Juan Signes Codoiier, eds., Chronographiae Quae Theophanis
Continuati Nomine Fertur Iibri I-IV, Corpus Fontium Histoήae Byzantinae 53 (Berlin: DeGruyter, 2015),
164. Οη masculinity and military valour see Michael Stewart's Chapter (6) in the current handbook.
4 Every time women sold land, they perfonned rational masculinity in promising they were not acting
from "womanly simplicity." Similarly, nearly all female saints surpassed expectations for women's
fortitude. Leonora Neville, Byzantine Gender, 59-64. Susan Ashbrook Harvey, "Women in Early
Byzantine Hagiography: Reversing the Story," in That Gentle Strength: Historical Perspectives on Women
in Christianity, eds. L. Coon, Κ. Haldane and Ε. Sommer (Charlottesville: University Press ofVirginia,
1990), 36-59.
5 For a descήption of a crisis disrupting such decorum: Gertrud Ries Bδhlig, ed., Ioannis Caminiatae De
expugnatione Thessalonicae, Corpus fontium histoήae Byzantinae 4 (Berlin: DeGruyter, 1973), ch. 38.
Οη decorum as appropήate female behaviour: Angeliki Laiou, "Women in the Marketplace of
Constantinople (10th - 14th Centuήes)," in Byzantine Constantinople: Monuments, Topography and
Everyday Life, ed. Ν. Necipoglu (Leiden: Bήll, 2001), 261-73; Leonora Neville, "Pity and
Lamentation in the Authoήal Personae of Ioannis Kaminiates and Anna Konmene," in Gender and
Emotions in Byzantium, eds. S. Constantinou and Μ. Meyer (New Υork: Palgrave Macmillan,
2018), 65-92.
6 Stratis Papaioannou, Michael Psellos: Rhetoric and Authorship in Byzantium (Cambήdge: CUP, 2013),
132-40; Stratis Papaioannou, "Byzantine Histoήa," in Thinking, Recording, and Writing History in the
Ancient World, ed. Κ. Raaflaub (Malden: John Wiley & Sons, 2014), 297-313. Derek Κrueger,
Liturgical Subjects: Christian Ritual, Biblical Narrative, and the Formation rif the Self in Byzantium
(Philadelphia: UPP, 2014).
7 Peter of Argos's life of Athanasios of Methone provides a typical example: Anthony Kaldellis and
Ioannis Polemis, eds., Saints rif Ninth-and Tenth-Century Greece, trans. Anthony Kaldellis and Ioannis
Polemis, Dumbarton Oaks Medieval Library (Cambήdge: HUP, 2019), 98-105. Leonora Neville,
"Singing with David and Contemplating Agesilaus: Ethical Training in Byzantium," in The Reception rif
Greek Ethics in Late Antiquity and Byzantium, eds. S. Xenophontos and Α. Maπnodoro (Cambήdge:
CUP, 2021), 140-58.
8 Elizabeth Bolman, "Mimesis, Metamorphosis and Representation in Coptic Monastic Cells," The
Bulletin of the American Society of Papyrologists 35, ηο. 1/2 (1998): 65-77; Elizabeth Bolman, "Depicting
the Κingdom of Heaven: Paintings and Monastic Practice in Early Byzantine Egypt," in Egypt in the
Byzantine World, 300-700, ed. R. Bagnall (Cambήdge: CUP, 2007), 408-33; Sharon Gerstel,
"Painted Sources for Female Piety in Medieval Byzantium," DOP 52 (1998): 89-111; William
Tronzo, "Mimesis in Byzantium: Notes toward a History of the Function of the Image," RES:
Anthropology and Aesthetics 25 (1994): 61-76.
9 Κrueger, Liturgical Subjects, 1-29; Parpulov, "Psalters and Personal Piety in Byzantium."
1Ο Νeville, "Singing"; Leonora Neville, "Why Did Byzantines Wήte History?," in Proceedings of the 23rd
International Congress of Byzantine Studies, ed. S. Matjanovic-Dusanic (Belgrade: The Serbian National
Committee of ΑΙΕΒ, 2016), 265-76.
11 Leonora Neville, Guide to Byzantine Historical Writing (Cambήdge: CUP, 2018), 162-8; Riccardo
Maisano, "Note suGiorgio Cedreno e la tradizione stoήografica bizantina," Rivista di studi bizantini e
slavi 3 (1983): 227-48; Luigi Tartaglia, "Meccanismi di compilazione nella Cronaca di Giorgio
Cedreno," in Bisanzio nell'etά dei Macedoni: Forme della produzione letteraria e artistica. VII Giornata di Studi
Bizantini (Milano, 15-16 marzo 2005), eds. F. Conca andG. Fiaccadoή, Quaderni di Acme, 87 (Milan:
Cisalpino, 2007), 239-55.
389
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12 καi μέντοι καi Άγησίλαος εύμόρφου ηρα παιδός, καi βουλόμενος αύτόν φιλησαι διεκώλυεν έαυτόν,
φεύγων την βλάβην. Luigi Tartaglia, ed., Georgii Cedreni Historiarnm compendium, Supplemento al
'Έollettino dei classici" 30 (Rome: Bardi, 2016), #241.94-97; Immanuel Bekker, ed., Georgius
Cedrenus Ioannis Scylitzae, vols. 34-35, Corpus scήptorum historiae Byzantinae (Βοηη: Weber,
1838), 359.
13 ό δέ Άλέξανδρος ούδέ iδείν τας Δαρείου θυγατέρας εύειδείς άγαν καi παρθένους ουσας ήνέσχετο
παντελώς, αiσχρόν νομίσας τόν άνδρας έλόντα ύπό γυναικών ήττηθηναι. ουτω δέ καi Κύρος ό
Περσών βασιλεύς ούδέ θεάσασθαι κόρην τινά θαυμασίαν άφορισθείσαν αύτφ καi άμήχανον κάλλος
εχειν μαρτυρουμένην κατεδέξατο, άλλά γε καi τφ όρώντι συνεχώς καi μηδέν έκ τούτου δεινόν
πάσχειν λέγοντι παρ'(ινει μήτε λέγειν τούτο μήτε πράττειν. "τό μεν γαρ πυρ" φησί "τούς πλησίον
πάντn έστώτας καίει, τό δέ κάλλος καi τούς πόρρωθεν έστώτας." Tartaglia §241.97-104,
Bekker, 359.
14 Agesilaus, 5.4-6
15 Kenneth Dover, Greek Popular Morality in the Time of Plato and Aristotle (Oxford: OUP, 1974), 208.
16 James Ν. Davidson, Courtesans & Fishcakes: The Consuming Passions of Classical Athens (Hammersmith:
Fontana Press, 1998), 143. Dover, Greek Popular Morality in the Time rif Plato and Aristotle, 208. Jeffrey
Beneker, "Sex, Eroticism, and Politics," in Α Companion to Plutarch, Blackwell Companions to the
Ancient World, 98 (Chichester: Wiley-Blackwell, 2014), 508-9.
17 Deborah Levine Gera, Xenophon's Cyropaedia: Style, Genre, and Literary Technique, Oxford Classical
Monographs (Oxford: CP, 1993), 221-44; James Tatum, Xenophon's Imperial Fiction: On The Education
of Cyrus (Pήnceton: PUP, 2014).
18 Xen. Cyropaedia 5.1.8
19 Inmaculada Perez Martίn, "The Reception of Xenophon in Byzantium: The Macedonian Peήod,"
GRBS 53 (2013): 812-54; Tomas Hagg, The Art rif Biography in Antiquity (Cambήdge: CUP, 2012),
41-66. Martίn, "Xenophon in Byzantium," 832.
20 Athanasios Markopoulos, "Kyrou Paideia kai Bios Basileiou. Enas pithanos syschetismos," Symmeikta
15 (2002): 91-108; Athanasios Markopoulos, "Άποσημειώσεις στον Λέοντα ΣΤ τόν Σοφό," Θυμίαμα
στη μνήμη της Λασκαρίvας Μπούρα (1994): 193-201.
21 Plut. Alex. 21.3; Jeffrey Beneker, Ίhe Passionate Statesman: Eros and Politics in Plutarch's Lives (Oxford:
OUP, 2012), 114-8.
22 Beneker, 111.
23 Plut. Alex. 21.3
24 Plut. Alex. 21.4
25 Plut. Alex. 21.5 άντεπιδεικνύμενος δέ προς την ίδέαν την έκείνων τό της iδίας έγκρατείας καi
σωφροσύνης κάλλος, ώσπερ άψύχους εικόνας άγαλμάτων παρέπεμπεν.
26 Plut. Alex 22.3
27 Plut. Alex 23; Arήan tells a version of this story that emphasizes Alexander's lack of jealousy for
Hephaistion rather his sophrosyne. As we shall see, Plutarch's version appears to have had more impact
οη later wήters, perhaps because of its clear moral focus. Arήan, 2.12.5-8
28 Beneker, "Sex, Eroticism, and Politics"; Beneker, The Passionate Statesman.
29 Οη linkages Plutarch draws between Cyrus and Alexander: Beneker, The Passionate Statesman, 113-27.
30 Plut. Agesilaus 9.5 Mark Beck, "Plato, Plutarch, and the Use and Manipulation of Anecdotes in the
Lives ofLycurgus and Agesilaus," in Plutarco, Platόn y Aristόteles: Actas del V Congreso Internacional de lα
I.P.S.: (Madrid-Cuenca, 4- 7 de mayo de 1999), eds. Α. PerezJimenez, J. GarcίaLόpez and R.M. Aguilar
(Madήd: Ediciones Clasicas, 1999), 173-87; Beneker, Ίhe Passionate Statesman, 210-4.
31 Beneker, The Passionate Statesman, 118-9.
32 Plut. De Cur 521F-522A: καθάπερ γαρ ό Σωκράτης παρ'(ινει φυλάττεσθαι των βρωμάτων δσα μή
πεινώντας έσθίειν άναπείθει καi των πομάτων δσα πίνειν μή διψώντας, ουτω χρή και ημας των
θεαμάτων καi άκουσμάτων φυλάττεσθαι καi φεύγειν δσα κρατεί καi προσάγεται τούς μηδέν
δεομένους.
33 Beneker, The Passionate Statesman, 118.
34 Plut. How to Study Poetry 31B-C. (pg 162 Loeb) ουτω δέ δεί καi προς μέθην τόν φίλοινον εχειν καi
προς ερωτα τόν έρωτικόν· ώσπερ ό Άγησίλαος ούχ ύπέμεινεν ύπό του καλού φιληθηναι προσιόντος,
ό δέ Κύρος ούδ' iδείν την Πάνθειαν έτόλμησε, των άπαιδεύτων τούναντίον ύπεκκαύματα τοίς πάθεσι
συλλεγόντων καi προς ii μάλιστα κακώς καi όλισθηρώς εχουσιν αύτούς προϊεμένων.
35 Beneker, The Passionate Statesman, 153-94.
36 Beneker, 213-25; Beneker, "Sex, Eroticism, and Politics."
390
Classical Heroes
37 This was done by Maximos Planoudes (circa 1255-1305). Inmaculada Perez Martίn, "Maximos
Planoudes and the Transmission of Plutarch's Moralia," ίη Brill's Companion to the Reception of Plutarch,
eds. S. Xenophontos and Κ. Oikonomopoulou (Leiden: Bήll, 2019), 294-323.
38 Sophia Xenophontos, "Resorting to Rare Sources of Antiquity: Nikephoros Basilakes and the
Populaήty of Plutarch's Parallel Lives ίη Twelfth-Century Byzantium," Parekbolai 4 (2014): 10.
Antonio Garzya, "Plutarco a Bisanzio," ίη L'ereditά culturale de Pultarco dall'antchitά al Rinascimento
(Naples: Μ. D'Auria, 1998), 15-27; Sophia Xenophontos and Kateήna Oikonomopoulou, eds., Brill's
Companion to the Reception of Plutarch (Leiden: Bήll, 2019).
39 Kaldellis and Polemis, Saints of Greece, 127-9; Neville, "Singίng."
40 Theofιli Kampianaki, "Plutarch's Lives ίη the Byzantine Chronographic Tradίtion: The Chronicle of
John Zonaras," BMGS 41.1 (2017): 15-29; Theophili Kampianakί, "Plutarch and Zonaras: From
Biography to a Chronicle with a Political Leaning," ίη Brill's Companion to the Reception of Plutarch, eds.
S. Xenophontos and Κ. Oikonomopoulou (Leiden: Brill, 2019), 248-64; Α. Catanzaro, "Plutarch at
Byzantium ίη the ΧΙΙ Century: Niketa Choniates and Plutarchan political arete ίη the Chronike
Dieghesis," ίη Glί scritti di Plutarco: tradizione, traduzione, recezione, commento, eds. G. Pace and Ρ. Volpe
Cacciatore (Naples, 2013), 111-7.
41 Sophia Xenophontos, 'Ά Living Portrait of Cato: Self-Fashioning and the Classical Past ίη John
Tzetzes' Chiliads," Revista de Estudios Bizantinos 2 (2014): 187-204.
42 George the Monk explains that his information that Plato learned from E gyptian sages is "just as
Plutarch says ίη the Parallels." Carl de Boor and Peter Wirth, Georgius Monachus: Chronicon, ed. ste
reotypa anni 1904 / correctiorem curavit Peter Wirth, Bibliotheca scriptorum Graecorum et
Romanorum Teubneriana (Stuttgart: Teubner, 1978), 76. Tartaglia, Georgii Cedreni, 197.8.
43 Arkadiy Avdokhin, "Plutarch and Early Chήstian Theologians," ίη Brill's Companion to the Reception of
Plutarch, eds. S. Xenophontos and Κ. Oikonomopoulou (Leiden: Bήll, 2019), 103-18; Sebastien
Morlet, "Plutarch ίη Chήstian Apologetics," ίη Brill's Companion to the Reception of Plutarch, eds. S.
Xenophontos and Κ. Oikonomopoulou (Leiden: Bήll, 2019), 119-35.
44 Jeffrey Beneker, "Plutarch and Saint Basil as Readers of Greek Literature," Syllecta Classica 22, ηο. 1
(2011): 95-111; Olga Alieva, 'Όη Plutarch's Influence upon St. Basil's Address to the Υoung οη the
Value of Greek Literature" (ΧΧ Theological Conference at PSTGU, Moscow: posted to acade
mia.edu, 2009); Avdokhin, "Plutarch and Early Christian Theologίans," 108-10. Ε Valgiglio, "Basilio
Magno Ad adulescentes e Plutarco 'De audiendis poetis,"' Rivista di Studi Classici 23 (1975): 67-86; Μ
Naldίni, Basilio di Cesarea: Discorso αί Giovani (Florence: Nardini Editore, 1984).
45 Beneker, "Plutarch and Saint Basil," 107.
46 Beneker, "Plutarch and Saint Basil," 104-8.
47 7.40-47 Ούδ' iiv παρέλθοιμι τό τού Άλεξάνδρου, δς τας θυγατέρας Δαρείου αίχμαλώτους λαβών
θαυμαστόν ιοtον τό κάλλος παρέχειν μαρτυρουμένας ούδέ προσιδείν ήξίωσεν, αίσχρόν είναι κρίνων
τόν iiνδρας έλόντα γυναικών ήττηθηναι. Τουτi γαρ είς ταύτόν έκείνφ φέρει, δτι ό έμβλέψας πρός
ήδονήν γυναικί, καν μή τφ εργφ τήν μοιχείαν έπιτελέσn, άλλα τφ γε την έπιθυμίαν τfi ψυχfi
παραδέξασθαι, ούκ άφίεται τού εγκλήματος.
48 Beneker, "Plutarch and Saint Basil," 107.
49 Kathy L. Gaca, The Making of Fornication: Eros, Ethics, and Political Riform in Greek Philosophy and Early
Christianity (Berkeley: UCP, 2003); 'Έarly Chήstian Sexuality," ίη Α Companion to Greek and Roman
Sexualities, ed. Τ. Hubbard (Oxford: John Wiley & Sons, Ltd, 2013), 549-64; Kyle Harper, From
Shame to Sin: The Christian Traniformation of Sexual Morality in Late Antiquity (Cambήdge, ΜΑ:
HUP, 2013).
50 This letter is not ίη the modern edition, which includes letters numbered 1214-2000. The first 1213
letters are ίη the Patrologia Graeca which reprints the 1585 edition ofJ. ed Billy andJ. Chatard. This
particular letter is #66 ίη volume 3 of Billy and Chatard, which is ίη PG 78, 776 b-c.
51 Pierre Evieux, ed., Isidore de Pέluse: Lettres, vol. 1, Sources chretiennes 422 (Paήs: Editions du Cerf,
1997), 18. The letter is 81 lines long.
52 Matt. 5.29 NRSV.
53 Sirach 9.8
54 Lines 39-44
55 Άγησίλαος δέ παίδα ευμορφον, ού ηρα, βουλόμενον αύτόν φιλησαι διεκώλυεν. Άλέξανδρος δέ ούδέ
ίδείν τήν Δαρείου ύπέμεινεν·αίσχρόν νομίσας τούς iiνδρας έλόντα γυναικi ήττηθηναι. Εί δέ μή μόνον
Έλληνικοίς, άλλα καi Βαρβαρικοίς χρή παραδείγμασι χρήσασθαι, ούδέ τούτο ποιησαι παραιτήσομαι.
Κύρος γούν ό Περσών βασιλεύς ούδέ ίδείν τήν Πάνθειαν άφορισθείσαν αύτφ, καi άμήχανόν τι
391
Leonora Neville
κάλλος εχειν μαρτυρουμένην, έτόλμησεν· άλλα καi τφ όρωντι συνεχώς καi μηδέν λέγοντι πάσχειν
δεινόν, παρήνει μή συνεχώς είς αύτην όρ�ν. «Τό μεν γαρ πυρ, φησί, τούς έγγύς δντας κατακαίει· τό
δέ κάλλος, καi τούς πόρρω έστωτας.»
56 Xen. Cyr. 5.1.16
57 Beneker, "Sex, Eroticism, and Politics."
58 Neville, Guide to Byzantine Historical Writing, 87-92; Jakov Ljubarskij, "George the Monk as a Short
Story Wήter," ]ahrbuch Der Osteπeichischen Byzantinistik 44 (1994): 255-64; Dimitry Afinogenov,
"Some Observations οη Genres of Byzantine Historiography," Byzantion 62 (1992): 13-33; Stratis
Papaioannou, "The Aesthetics ofHistory: From Theophanes to Eustathios," in History as Literature in
Byzantium, ed. R. Macήdes (Farnham: Ashgate, 2010), 3-21.
59 Boor and Wirth, Georgius Monachus: Chronicon, 338-9. Ταύτα δέ έκ πολλών έρανισάμενος όλίγα
άναγκαίως οtμαι συντέθεικα δια τούς έπαπορουντας πότε καi που καi πόθεν ή των μοναχών ηρξατο
διαγωγή τε καi Ιiσκησις καi τάξις. που τοίνυν είσiν οί την μοναδικήν πολιτείαν μετά των Ιiλλων της
άποστολικης εκκλησίας θείων παραδόσεών τε καi θεσμών είκονομάχοι δυσσεβως καi άνοήτως
άποβαλλόμενοι καi διαπτύοντες, άρτιφανείς 'Ιουδαίοι καi κατά τόν άσεβη καi θεοστυγη μυσταγωγόν
αύτων Κοπρώνυμον νέαν καi πρόσφατον ταύτην δογματίζοντες έξ Ιiκρας μανίας τε καi άπονοίας καi
άβελτηρίας μή νοουντες μήτε a λέγουσιν, μήτε περί τίνων διαβεβαιουνται. ήμείς δέ ταίς
διδασκαλίαις των άγίων πατέρων έπόμενοι καi άρχαίαν ταύτην καi παλαιαν πιστεύομεν ύπάρχειν.
60 The excerpts are in the volume οη Virtues and Vices, and come from of vaήous parts of George's history
having to do with morality: Cain and Abel, Sardanapallos, Alexander's entry into Jerusalem, the di
gression οη celibacy, the vices of Nero, virtues of Titus, and descriptions of heresies and moral eva
luations of some subsequent emperors. Ιη this set of excerpts, the digression οη celibacy takes ten pages
and is the longest continuous section. Α11 of the selections from George's history take up 34 pages in
the modern edition. The version of the digression included in the Excerpts cuts some of the quotations
from Chrysostom and patήstic discussions of celibacy with a possibly apologetic "καi τα λοιπά δήλα"
but includes the whole of the discussion of Agesilaus, Cyrus, and Alexander as it appears in George's
history. U. Ph Boissevain, Carl De Boor and Theodor Bίittner-Wobst, eds., Excerpta historica iussu Imp.
Constantini Porphyrogeniti confecta: Excerpta de Virtutibus et Vitiis, vol. 2 (Berlin: Weidmann, 1906),
122-56. Andras Nemeth, The Excerpta Constantiniana and the Byzantine Appropriation of the Past
(Cambridge: CUP, 2018).
61 Regarding the boundaήes of the discussion as it appears in George the Monk, the end is clear because
the topic switches cήsply from the virtue of chastity to the statement that Nero ruled after Claudius.
Such statements of succession of rulers form the chronological scaffolding of George's history and
signal that the story is moving forward in time. It is less clear precisely where the digression begins, or
perhaps where George the Monk began to adopt prose from an earlier essay. Although the statement
quoted above could be a plausible opening preamble to a discourse οη monasticism, the editors of the
Constantinian Excerpts began their selection of George's history two and a half pages earlier. The
editors of the excerpta picked up the thread where George has stopped summarizing Eusebius of
Caesarea. The section based οη Eusebius of Caesarea would have been included among their excerpts
from Eusebius, or from Philo, so it makes sense that they begin quoting George the Monk here, even
though it is the middle of his discussion of the virtues of celibacy. Boor and Wirth, Georgius Monachus:
Chronicon, 338.12.
62 Boor and Wirth, 358.1-4.
63 Based οη Theodoret of Cyrus Cure for Pagan Maladies., 12.43-46.
64 rif
Thomas Ρ.Halton, trans., Theodoret Cyrus: Α Curefor Pagan Maladies, Ancient Chήstian Wήters 67
(New York: Newman Press, 2013).
65 Isidore: Άγησίλαος δέ παίδα εϋμορφον, ού ηρα, βουλόμενον αύτόν φιλησαι διεκώλυεν. George: καi
μέντοι καi Γησίλαος εύμόρφου ηρα παιδός καi βουλόμενος αύτόν φιλησαι διεκώλυσεν έαυ- τόν
φεύγων την βλάβην.
66 Isidore: Άλέξανδρος δέ ούδέ ίδείν την Δαρείου ύπέμεινεν· αίσχρόν νομίσας τούς Ιiνδρας έλόντα
γυναικi ήττηθηναι. George: ό δέ Άλέξανδρος ούδέ ίδείν τας Δαρείου θυγατέρας εύειδείς Ιiγαν καi
παρθένους οϋσας ήνέσχετο παντελώς αίσχρόν νομίσας καi λίαν Ιiτοπον τόν Ιiνδρας έλόντα ύπό
γυναικών ήττηθηναι.
67 Isidore used "etolmesen for "dare" and George katedexato, "deign" in describing what Cyrus did not do.
68 Boor and Wirth, Georgius Monachus: Chronicon, 360. One manuscript has gesilaos, five have gisilaos,
three agesilaos, and one has arkesilaos.
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Classical Heroes
69 The sentence in Isidore's letter that is omitted from George: Ei δέ μή μόνον Έλληνικοίς, άλλα καί
Βαρβαρικοίς χρή παραδείγμασι χρήσασθαι, ούδέ τούτο ποιησαι παραιτήσομαι.
70 Kedrenos begins to use George the Monk's text where the later follows Eusebius of Caesarea's de
scription of the ministry of Mark in Egypt and his discussion of Philo's descήption of the ascetic
practices in On the Contemplative Life. Both medieval histoήes include much ofEusebius's description
of Philo. They include much ofEusebius ΙΙ 16-17. Kedrenos: Tartaglia #236-239 (de Boor 348-353);
George the Monk 327-334. Kedrenos then cuts a paragraph from George's text about the superioήty
of the monastic life over the far inferior marήed life. Monachus 334.14-335.17 has ηο equivalent in
Kedrenos. Kedrenos rejoins Monachos as the later quotes from Athanasius of Alexandήa's farnous
statement in the letter to Amun that while the life of virginity was far supeήor, those choosing married
life were not to be blamed. The editors of the Constantininan Excerpts begin their selection of
Monachos's text at this point.
71 Boor and Wirth, Georgius Monachus: Chronicon, 338-64; Τartaglia, Georgii Cedreni, #241; Bekker,
Cedrenus, 34-5:355-60.
72 Tartaglia, Georgii Cedreni, 241.3. Kedrenos omits George the Monk 334.12-355.16 ,337.13-19,
338.3-11, 339.3-21, 340.6-21, 341.7-356.3, 359.8-15
73 Prior to the pro grammatic sentence about iconoclasm, Kedrenos cuts significantly from patήstic
quotations that George the Monk included, but left in a statement from Athanasius of Alexandήa: "For
there are two ways in life, as touching these matters. The one the more moderate and ordinary, Ι mean
marriage; the other angelic and unsurpassed, namely virginity. Now if a man choose the way of the
world, narnely marriage, he is not indeed to blame; yet he will not receive such great gifts as the other.
For he will receive, since he too brings forth fruit, namely thirtyfold. But if a man embrace the holy
and unearthly way, even though, as compared with the former, it be rugged and hard to accomplish,
yet it has the more wonderful gifts: for it grows the perfect fruit, namely an hundredfold." NPNF2-04.
Athanasius: Select Works and Letters, pp. 971-2
74 Bas.Caes., or.11 = PG 31.628-629.
75 Οη Psellos's knowledge of Agesilaus, based οη Plutarch, see Diether Rodeήch Reinsch, "Plutarch in
rif
Michael Psellos' Chronographia," in Brill's Companion to the Reception Plutarch, eds. S. Xenophontos
and Κ. Oikonomopoulou (Leiden: Brill, 2019), 236-7.
76 Kedrenos notes that Plutarch descήbes the great battles Julius Caesar fought against the Germans,
Gauls, and Bήttans. This passage is substantially the same as that in the Chronicle of Symeon the
Logothete, except that Symeon's chronicle omits the attήbution to Plutarch. Tartaglia, Georgii Cedreni,
197.8; Staffan Wahlgren, Symeonis Magistri et Logothetae Chronicon (Berlin, 2006), #49. Since
Kedrenos's history is later, and frequendy based οη Symeon's it seems that this might be an addition,
pointing readers to Plutarch.
77 Andrew Lear, "Was Pederasty Problematized? Α Diachronic View," in Sex in Antiquity: Exploring
Gender and Sexuality in the Ancient World, eds. Μ. Masterson, Ν. S. Rabinowitz and J. Robson
(London: Roudedge, 2015), 115-36; Kenneth Dover, Greek Homosexuality (Cambήdge, ΜΑ:
HUP, 1978).
78 Dover, Greek Homosexuality, 64.
79 Harper, From Shame to Sin, 19-36; Craig Williams, Roman Homosexuality, 2nd edn. (Oxford:
OUP, 2010).
80 Οη the terminology "same-gender" as preferable to "same-sex" see Betancourt, Byzantine
Intersectionality, 125-9.
81 Mosaicarum et Romanus Legum Collatio 5.3.1-2; CTh. 9.7.6; perceptively discussed in Mark Masterson,
Μαn to Man: Desire, Homosociality, and Authority in Late-Roman Manhood (Columbus: Ohio State
University Press, 2014), 19-30.
82 Inst.4.18.4; C] 9.9.30(31); Harper, From Shame to Sin, 154-8: "Without fuss or detail, Justinian laid
down the death penalty for forms of sexual exercise that had been pήvate and permitted since time
immemoήal."
83 Konstantinos Pitsakis, "L'homoerotisme dans la culture byzantine: le cadre normatif et ses reflets
litteraires," in Corrispondenza d'amorosi sensi: IΌmoerotismo nella letteratura medievale, edx. Ρ. Odoήco and
Ν. Pasero (Alessandria, 2008), 1-29; Dion Smythe, 'Ίη Denial: Sarne-Sex Desire in Byzantium," in
Desire and Denial in Byzantium, ed. Jarnes Liz (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 1999), 139-48.
84 Ekloge 17.38; Epanagoge 40.66; Procherios 39.73. Spyros Ν. Troianos, "Kirchliche und weltliche
Rechtsquellen zur Homosexualitat in Byzanz," Jahrbuch der osterreichischen Byzantinistik 39 (1989):
393
Leonora Neville
29-48. Mark Masterson, "Revisiting the Bachelorhood of Basil Ι," ίη The Emperor in the Byzantine
World, ed. S. Tougher (London: Routledge, 2019), 52-82, here 62.
85 Boor and Wirth, Georgius Monachus: Chronicon, 645-54. Derek Κrueger, "The Homophobia ofGeorge
the Monk" (Byzantine Studies Conference, Madison, Wisconsin, 2019). Ι am grateful to Derek
Krueger for shaήng this preliminary paper ίη advance of publication.
86 Masterson, Man to Man, 29. 'Ά dangerous and real thing, same-sex desire also excited imaginations and
regulation and was subject to appropήation." 39.
87 Masterson, "Bachelorhood," 61-2; Pitsakis, "L'homoerotisme," 8; Angeliki Laiou, Mariage, Amour et
Parentέ ά Byzance Aux XIe-XIIIe Siecles (Paήs: De Boccard, 1992), 68. Οη the transformations of
Roman law ίη the later empire: Marie Theres Fogen, "Reanimation of Roman Law ίη the Ninth
Century: Remarks οη Reasons and Results," ίη Byzantium in the Ninth Century: Dead or Alive?, Society
for the Promotion of Byzantine Studies, 5 (Aldershot: Ashgate, 1998), 11-22; Angeliki Laiou and
Dieter Simon, Law and Society in Byzantium: Ninth-Twelfth Centuries (Washington, DC: DO, 1994).
88 "The knowing play, perceptible ίη both the letters and ίη the intertexts, with what is metaphorical and
what is real poses a hard question to anyone who would insist that desire between these Byzantine men
was not conceivable to them." Mark Masterson, "Desire, Drearns, and Visions ίη the Letters of
Emperor Konstantinos VII Porphyrogennetos and Theodoros of Kyzikos," ίη Dreams, Memory and
Imagination in Byzantium, eds. Β. Neil and Ε. Anagnostou-Laoutides (Leiden: Bήll, 2018), 154.
89 Derek Krueger, 'Ήomoerotic Spectale and the Monastic Body ίη Symeon the New Theologian," ίη
Toward α Theology of Eros: Tranφguring Passion at the Limits of Discipline, eds. V. Burrus and Catheήne
Keller (New York: Fordham University Press, 2006), 117.
90 Consider also Craig Α. Gibson, "Two Rhetorical Exercises οη Ganymede ίη John Doxapatres'
Homiliae ίη Aphthonium," BMGS 43, ηο. 2 (2019): 181-93; Paolo Odorico, "L'indicible trans
gression," ίη Ordnung und Aufruhr im Mittelalter, eds. Μ.Τ. Fogen and V. Κlostermann (Frankfurt,
1995), 301-12.
91 Anthony Kaldellis, "The Byzantine Role ίη the Making of the Corpus of Classical Greek
Historiography: Α Preliminary Investigation," ]ournal of Hellenic Studies 132 (2012): 71-85.
394
22
MODES OF IDENTITY:
ΑΤΤALEIATES, ΚΟΜΝΕΝΕ, AND
PSELLOS
Penelope Buckley
By tradition, Byzantine histoήans prefeπed to invoke the authoήty of the received, rather than
the individual testimony of the eyewitness. They might introduce more warmth and detail into
their own times if they reached them, but histoήographers such as Malalas and Theophanes still
kept to the third person, and even Prokopios, in his startling Anekdσta (Secret Histσry), wrote as if
from a supra-human point of view, though with reminders of his authorship. Skylitzes argues
for the practice οη pήnciple in the Proemion to his Epitσme σf Histσries. 1
Of course, authoήal presence and opinion are expressed in such histoήes and much decoding
has been done. When Byzantine world historians look back beyond personal knowledge to say
confidently which emperors were good, which bad, they leave a trail of allegiances; even when
they copy mateήal fi-om earlier histoήans, by re-casting or abήdgment they can inscήbe their
own judgments and purposes into what they take.2 Mateήal can be creatively recycled and
repositioned for an alternative, even reverse, effect.3
Michael Psellos, however, struck out a different path in the eleventh century (fl.
1045-1070), not only by wήting at great length about himself (periautσlσgia), giving the practice
a new scope, if not a new respectability, but by making his own presence in the Chrσnσgraphia
almost as important to his construction of the empire as the emperors he advised. The eleventh
and twelfth centuήes are known for the new fi-eedom Byzantine histoήans enjoyed in in
troducing themselves into their work and, while it is hard to gauge how far Psellos was voicing
a zeitgeist and how far creating one, his ήnging declaration αύτός 'Ί myself" does seem to
resonate beyond its context.4 He was a great innovator who gave the histoήans most influenced
by him the confidence to make innovations of their own, notably Michael Attaleiates (fl. circa
1060s-1070s) and Anna Komnene (b. 1083, wήting circa 1130s-1140s). Like Psellos they
wrote about the recent past and their own times and learnt from him that projecting, shaping,
and manipulating versions of the authoήal self could help them to construct their versions of the
peήod.
Clearly, there are pitfalls in periautσlσgia, as the Byzantines were well aware. It attracts charges of
egotism and self-interest, and may blur the genre lines between history, encomium, political memoir,
hagiography, and the impeήal Life. These genres have different conventions: in hagiography, for
instance, a saint's disciple needs to show intimacy with the saint's daily existence; professions of
humility and unworthiness are therefore needed. 5 Psellos and Komnene are both defensive about
periautσlσgia, but both make strategic use of those other genres. It is one of their hallmarks.
DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-26 395

Penelope Buckley
None of their three histoήes severs itself completely fi-om the histoήographic tradition. All
take and amend passages from other texts. Psellos and Attaleiates use some conventional
tropes-the weak emperor with bad counsellors, the emperor who fails to honour his generals.6
Psellos, however, introduces a significant new trope, the wise counsellor whom the emperor
does not heed and who is personified by the narrator. Attaleiates makes this his constructive
principle. He too is the wise counsellor whose advice the emperor fails to follow, and his advice
miπors the character he gives himself, while both express the ethos of the work. Komnene
turns the idea inside out; if she personifies one option that Alexios did not take, she also voices
the advice in other areas that she thinks he must have given himself She is, as it were, his
wisdom.
All three histoήans see wήting history as a shared enterpήse. Attaleiates and Komnene ally
themselves with a tradition, engage with the accounts of others and descήbe the project as a
social duty, Attaleiates pleading pressure of work while Psellos says he is a reluctant historian
persuaded by his fi-iends.7 All three change the contract between history and reader. They direct
their attitudes and markers of identity toward the reader or the hearer for approval: Komnene,
her disdain for crowds, her gender and caste refusal καi γυναικεία καi βασιλική "both as a
woman and a pήncess" to specify the abuses alleged against the pope: 8 Attaleiates, his belief that
leaders determine the behaviour of their men; Psellos, his ability to place himself as easily in a
crowd as in the throne-room. This essay will try to steer a course between the wήters' explicit
selves, the roles they assume impressionistically or by suggestion, and the involuntary revela
tions of the texts themselves, but the lines cannot be clearly drawn, and least of all with Psellos,
that most obtrusive and elusive self-identifier. Papaioannou has brought to light the fluid,
empathetic, play of selves in Psellos's rhetoήcal works but its operations under the constraints of
history still need examining.9 My goal is to consider how the varying authoήal selves of all three
wήters function, how they serve (or fail to serve) the larger movements and aims (telos) of each
history.
Although Psellos set the paradigrns, Ι will take him last because he is most challenging. His
inconsistencies are partly a by-product of his pioneering in the genre, his orations being notably
more consistent and formed. 10 Attaleiates and Komnene have the advantage of coming afi:er
wards but they were clearly moving into spaces he had made, for example introducing overt
panegyήc into history while denying that they were doing this. Like Psellos, they largely define
themselves through their relations with emperors and make claims for themselves as qualified to
judge those emperors; like him, they assume a range of roles and make dramas of their own
appearances in events. Unlike him, however, more traditionally, they open with generalities to
oήent the work and stamp a viewpoint.
Attaleiates: The History

Attaleiates is concise. He invokes the classically didactic pήnciple of history-wήting: τούς των
αρίστων καi μη τοιούτων βίους ανακαλύπτον "it reveals the lives of those who were virtuous
and those who were not," διδασκαλία σαφης χρηματίζοντα καi ρυθμός των μετέπειτα to
"convey clear instruction and set patterns for the future." Then he declares himself
Διό δη εδοξε κάμοί, καίτοι μυρίαις ασχολίαις αλύοντι περί τό στρατόπεδον καi
δικαστικοίς διαλόγοις αεί περιδονουμένφ καi δσαι d:ιραι τοίς έξ αύτων συγγράμμασι
κάμνοντι, προσθήκην έμποιησαι τοίς πόνοις καi μικρά iiττα διαλαβείν βραχεί τινι
ρήματι καi άπλοϊκφ, καθά προσήκει τοίς ίστορίας συγγράφουσιν, δτι μη
αγωνιστικός ό λόγος καi δια τούτο μεθόδου προσδέομενος τεχνικης.
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Modes of Identity
Hence, 1 too decided, though I am busy with thousands of responsibilities in the aπny,
am continually whirled about by legal disputes, and spend hours working away οη the
documents that result fi-om them, to add to my labours and set forth a few matters in
simple and concise teπns, as befits those who compose histoήes, given that my naπative
is not part of a competition and so does not require a specialised rhetoήcal technique. 11
He is a man of standing, immersed in vaήous affairs, the military, the legal, the disputed, the re
corded; he has a strong work ethic; he thinks his time important but is in a position to make choices;
he has expertise in passingjudgment; most importandy, he is not trying to glorify himself rhetoήcally,
because he is not Psellos. The bήef self-portrayal descήbes an attitude towards the work as well as the
self it previews history's distinctively Roman approach to heroic virtue and to personal worth.
Indeed, the opening paragraph sounds the word Roman five times, memoήalizing the general
George Maniakes's (998-1043) heroic achievements and unjust recall, and Michael IV's brave victory
12
over the Bulgaήans before he died, leaving visible rerninders of his αρετή "virtue." As Κrallis has
shown, Attaleiates revisits much of Psellos's naπative---sometimes approvingly, sometimes
coπectively-but his thinking is, 1 think, less distinctive than Κrallis suggests; it is a shared, inheήted,
13
value-system, not one peculiar to himself or stήking out into the unknown. Attaleiates is tradi
tional, both in playing down or degrading female agency and in showing hostility to eunuchs, as
14
Psellos does not. Attaleiates is generally more ready to specify, more conscientious in supplying the
15
"evidence." Psellos recounts only those wars under Constantine that threatened the City, the ones
he himself witnessed, whereas Attaleiates gives a fuller, more strategic picture, paying attention to the
16
wars against the Skyths and Se�uks. He notes who died τόν ε&γενη θάνατον "a noble death," and
interpolates an heroic retreat under Botaneiates as a living example of nobility, fιling extra-textual
motivation under his stated didactic purpose. His account of Isaak Komnenos supplements Psellos's
in another way: he tells us what Isaak's domestic policies actually were, in place of the philosopher's
monstrous-body metaphor.
lmplicitly, he advertises his disciplined approach, which includes not wήting himself into
events until he has a public part to play in them. When Romanos Diogenes was tried for
treason in Eudokia's bήef reign, Ei δέ καi αύτός των δικασάντων μέρος ύπηρχον, ίσασιν oi
πολλοί "most people know whether I myself was one of these judges. " 17 The story is told not
only for Attaleiates to establish himself as part of the administration. Its importance lies in
Romanos's trust in him after the adverse judgment: a case of the double alibi, where a new
emperor values a servant for showing integrity and loyalty to the old and thus demonstrates his
own. Psellos had given the topos a strong frame in his history of Isaak Komnenos when he
trembled after Isaak's elevation, but was made Isaak's chief adviser. Attaleiates had earlier even
used the double alibi inversely when the rebel citizenry accused Michael VI of disloyalty to
them. They had been loyal to him, while αύτόν σπονδάς μετ' έκείνου συντίθεσθαι καi της
βασιλικης έξουσίας μεταδιδόναι "he himself was corning to teπns with [Isaak Komnenos] to
surrender the throne."18
Integrity and loyalty are key values in the History. Thus, the empire needed Romanos, but
the reign was ruined by Doukai disloyalty.
είχε περί αύτόν καi συνέδρους, ειπείν δέ δεί καi έφέδρους, καi συν αύτοίς τόν
τούτων πατράδελφον Ίωάννην τόν καίσαρα.
He was suπounded by his stepsons who shared his throne, or rather, one must say, by
those who were lying in ambush for him, and with them was their father's brother,
the kaisar Ioannes.19
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Penelope Buckley
Once Attaleiates is appointed to go οη campaign with Romanos, he asserts his views robustly:
Εί δέ και αυτός ό ταύτα συγγράφων των έκ προκρίσεως αυτφ συνεπομένων

έτύγχανεν και τας του στρατού διευθετων υποθέσεις έν κρίσεσι, πάντως iiv ουκ έξ
άκοης άλλ' έξ αυτοπτίας τα καθεξής παραδώσει δια γραφής τοίς μετέπειτα.
Since the author of these words happened to be one of those chosen to follow him
and was in charge of the military tήbunal, then the following account that he wήtes
down and transmits to posterity surely comes not from hearsay but from what he
himself witnessed.20
Ιη saying that he was there as a senior judge, he gives weight not only to his evidence but to his
findings: that at the outset, the Roman soldiers were nothing like the old-
Τότε τοίνυν κάγώ ου τοσουτον άπέγνων την έμαυτου σωτηρίαν, δσον την των
'Ρωμαίων κατέγνων δειλίαν η άπειροκαλίαν η ταπεινότητα.
It was then [at Hieropolis] that Ι not so much despaired of my own safety as Ι came to
despise the cowardice, ineptitude, or wretchedness of the Romans21
-and that, as a rule, the outcome lies with the military leaders.22 For Romanos was ηο coward,
and under him, afi:er their long neglect, the Romans began to look their enemies in the face.23
He did, however, fail to follow advice. For, like Psellos, Attaleiates claims to understand
military strategy, and, unlike Psellos, who merely asserts in general terms that he knew all about
it, he discusses it in detail through every campaign.
Psellos had much to say about civilian teπor when Constantinople was direcdy threatened.
Attaleiates sets that in the perspective of the hoπendous and immediate ήsks of warzones: ήding
through a mountain pass, he nearly follows his horse over a cliff The episode signals his heroic self
portrayal as a kind of military man: all marvel at his reflex; ηο one can proceed until another horse is
24
brought. That he is valued by the emperor is made clear: Romanos insists he accompany him οη
his second campaign, τφ των πατρικίων τετιμηκώς άξιώματι "bestowing the patήcian dignity οη
me."25 Again, he follows Psellos in being made to go by an emperor who cannot do without him,
but, unlike Psellos, he assumes a prominent role. At one point, Romanos planned to leave some units
behind in an exposed position while he retumed to the City.
Έπει δέ τουτι τό ψήφισμα έκυρώθη, άνάμνησις γέγονε τφ βασιλεί των του

στρατοπέδου κριτών. Και μετακαλεσάμενος ήμας μόνους ... και γνώμην ήμετέραν ...
εζήτησε. Και οί μέν iiλλοι των δικαστών, μαρτυρούσης μοι της άληθείας αυτής, ου
γαρ ... τι λέξω ... έξαiρων έμαυτόν ... (άγαπητόν γαρ εi και τοίς έσχάτοις των λόγου
ποσώς μετεχόντων συνταττοίμην), σοτοι ουν οί της έμης τάξεως ... συνεπαινέται ...
μόνος δ'αυτος έσιώπων ίστάμενος. Ό δέ βασιλεύς... λόγον έξηρημένως
άπήτησέ με ...
Mter this decision had been ratified, the emperor remembered the kritai of the aπny ...
he called us together, only us ... and requested our opinion ... The other judges - my
witness is truth itself, for in what Ι will say Ι am not ... exalting myself... for Ι would
be happy enough to be numbered among the least of those who have some share in
398
Modes of Identity
learning - at any rate, my colleagues ... all approved the decision ... whereas Ι alone
stood there in silence. The emperor... [specifically] demanded that Ι speak...26
Not for nothing has Attaleiates read Psellos and, as the emperor presses him, his response
acquires declamatory power. He repudiates the plan-καi. μόνον αύτούς όραν τούς πολεμίους
ποιεί, δτε την του κρατουντος όρωσι μετ' αύτων γενναιότητα "The only thing that makes
them face the enemy is when they see the bravery of their own ruler"-and outlines a detailed
strategy, convincing the emperor until he changes his rnind again and the units left behind are
heavily defeated.27
When the army and the generals are tried, Attaleiates again stands out, and when the em
peror decides to march to Melitene, άσύμφορον πάλιν τουτο αύτός προπετευσάμενος
έξεφώνησα "Ι intervened and loudly stated that this too was not in our interests."2 8 This time
the emperor does as he suggests, but allows an opportunity to go by.29 Attaleiates portrays
Romanos as indecisive and himself as strong and clear-sighted, but the self-portrayal goes
further. He exaggerates his modesty, using the pauses for self-deprecation to impress both
emperor and reader. He is something of an orator afi:er all, and his reasoning is informed by
"some share of learning." Implicitly, he functions as the main strategist, acting out the part
Psellos sketched for himself but did not really play. At the same time, he rerninds the reader of
the integήty of his being as wήter and participant. Psellos sometimes divides these selves.
Attaleiates blames the disaster at Mantzikert οη the treachery of John Doukas and his sons,
explaining Romanos' strategy and the course towards mayhem.30 He himself tήes to introduce
some order and control when a band ofSkyths goes over to the Turks, raising doubts about the
others fighting for theRomans. He binds those others with a loyalty oath and that they take the
oath, and honour it, confirms the relevance and power of law even in warfare, while portraying
the judge as cool and disciplined in cήsis.3 1 Duήng the battle, the rear rnisunderstands the
order-a rnistake encouraged, even initiated, by the treacherous Andronikos Doukas32-and
the army deserts the emperor in a mad rush to get back inside the camp.
Έί δέ τι καi. αύτός τοίς φεύγουσιν άντίξους γεγονώς πολλούς ήμυνάμην τήν

άνάκλησιν έπιτρέπων τfίς ηττης, Ετεροι λεγέτωσαν... Καi ήν σεισμός οΙος καi
όδυρμός καi. πόνος καi. φόβος άκίχητος καi. ή κόνις αίθέριος...
Whether Ι myself was trying to stop many of the soldiers from running away and
getting them to return to their posts to save us from defeat, Ι leave it to others to
report.... It was like an earthquake with howling, gήef, sudden fear, clouds of
dust ...33
Again, Attaleiates stands apart, not quite a soldier, more like a commander, but with a wήter's
sensibilities. Just where he stands is not said. He makes it sound as if he is outside in the melee,
but it would have been impossible to struggle out through those stampeding in; almost cer
tainly, he was still inside the palisade. There is some sleight of hand in the heroic profile that he
stήkes.
That heroic profile is a modest projection ofRomanos, whose courage in defeat is honoured
by the noble sultan. The contrasting treachery and cruelty towardsRomanos in Constantinople
so appal Attaleiates that he switches genres and delivers an oration to the reader ώς έν
τραγφδίας τρύφει δια τό πάθος παρεκβατικώτερον "in the manner of a tragic digression to
assuage our agony."34 It is not the only time he switches genre before launching οη his pa
negyήc for Botaneiates.35
399
Penelope Buckley
When Michael VII takes power, he is τον μειρακίσκον iiνακτα a "child emperor," 36
obedient to the unjust, divisive measures of the logothete, the eunuch Nikephoros, so that the
topos reverts to the traditional: weak emperor, bad counsellor. For a time Attaleiates restήcts
himselfto commenta ry, lamenting the loss ofRoman wisdom and nobility in universal greed; 37
but the narrative is re-energised when Nikephoros attacks the well-being ofRaidestos, a town
in which Attaleiates has an interest. The logothete establishes a grain monopoly there, ordaining
that all grain coming to Raidestos must be sold at an entrepot outside the town, the phσundax,
and re-sold at higher pήces inside. Attaleiates uses it as an example of widespread injustice and
suffeήng: the personal becoming the political when interest bites.
Έξ ου γαρ έκεινος έπάγη, ή εύθηνία των πόλεων φχετο και ή του θείου όργή τα ύπό
'Ρωμαίους μειζόνως κατέλαβεν.
From the moment that [the phσundax] was built, the prospeήty ofthe cities waned and
the wrath of God fell harder ... upon the realm of the Romans.38
For during Bryennios's rebellion, Attaleiates identifies himself as a landholder, a prominent

figure in that very town, and hostile to an upstart woman with ήνal interests:
Γυνή γάρ τις έν τfi 'Ραιδεστφ τα πρώτα φέρειν κατά πάντων σπουδάζουσα,
συγγένειαν έκ του ανδρός προς τον Βρυέννιον τουτον συνάπτουσα, λαθραίως
πολλούς ύπέσυρε των 'Ραιδεστηνων ... ώς [είς] έαυτήν μεταθέσθαι συμπείσασα και
συνωμοσίαν ... συστήσασθαι.
For a certain woman, who sought to stand above everyone else in Raidestos, and was
related to B ryennios, through her husband, managed to furtively convince many of
the citizens of Raidestos ... to side with her and join the conspiracy ...39
Being in Raidestos at the time, είς έπίσκεψιν έκεισε καταλαβών των κτημάτων μου "visiting my
lands in the area," Attaleiates heard rumours but θαρρων τfi πίστει των... πολιτών 'Ί trusted in the
loyalty ofthe citizens " until one conspirator, owing him a favour, tells him secretly that this rumour
is true.40 The favour and its return confinn his status, but the news threatens it.
The picture ofboth empire and narrator is now more complicated: the loyalty in question is to an
unjust regime, and the first act ofthe rebels will be to tear the evil phσundax down. Attaleiates, for his
part, has more than one kind of interest at stake: loyalty aside, his lands are threatened, and his
standing in the town challenged by the woman. She has now secured the city gates and he gets out
only by threatening that προς πόλεμον αύτfi συρραγήσομαι "Ι would start a war against her."41 It is a
quick change of identity back to the quasi-military and he follows it with a heroic ήde to the City,
where he goes immediately to Nikephoros. The tσpσs reverts to Wise Counsellor as the logothete
procrastinates, and Raidestos and then Adήanople fall. Once more, Attaleiates has given uniquely
helpful advice and it is wasted. The further complication is that his own estates are plundered. Not
only is he now identified with a new class of citizen, one with financial stakes and status to defend,
but he has shown a different loyalty, to a weak emperor and meretήcious regime. Such loyalty may
be even more deserving, or it may be seen as flawed. As lawyer, landholder, and quasi-soldier, he is
evidently impelled to show it, but is vulnerable when Botaneiates takes the throne.
Α mark of openness, even ofhonesty, in the long panegyήc for Botaneiates that swells the history
in its later form, is its absence of detail. ΑΠ is superlative and everything is general, including the
histoήan's protestations that it is not panegyήc.42 The reader understands that a wήter must com
mend himselfto power and Attaleiates does this extravagantly, but with an interestingly specific coda:
400
Modes of Identity
he commends Botaneiates for reviving a law protecting public servants under a change of govern
ment. Loyal labourers in one administration may not be disadvantaged in the next.43 The new
regime is thus co-opted into a history of loyalty and betrayal, and by extension into the value-system,
the ethos, of the ancient Romans. Attaleiates himself has functioned as its spokesperson and its
embodiment: able both to serve and lead, politically and economically aware. Νο doubt his peri
autologia is self-commendatory but its guiding function, like his history's, is to "convey clear in
struction and set patterns for the future."
His Rule for his monastery and poorhouse (1077) is informed by different facets of a self that
is still recognizably the same individual, and again the 'self Attaleiates' fashions for the Rule
serves to define and shape its value-system. The humility he expressed when giving his opinion
of the emperor's strategy in the history was pro forma. It was "mannerly," the modesty proper to
his elevated social status, his heroic readiness to stand alone. Ιη the Rule, he names himself
according to a different template: έγώ ό άμαρτωλός 'Ί the sinner" sets both his άπό ξένης καi
ταπεινης τύχης "humble and foreign background" and his place των της συγκλήτου βουλης
καi τοις άρίστοις των βουλευτών ... καi τοις έπιφανεστάτοις των πολιτικών δικασ(των)
"among the elite of the senators ... and among the most illustήous of the civic judges" in the
pious context of confessed unworthiness before God." 44 This is, however, a legal document as
well as a religious foundation. Sinner or not, he is at pains to descήbe all his property as legally
his to dispose of at his own juήsdiction. He makes repeated provision for the monastery and
poorhouse to be governed altogether by his legal heirs safe from impeήal or ecclesiastical en
croachment. As a lawyer, he trusts only his son. And, of course, God. There are the same
autobiographical facts, the same prudent, sceptical attention to consequences, and the voice is
similarly clear and strong, but-God or not-he will make things watertight himself Whereas
the authoήal self took οη forms in the History to give the tragic, noble Roman character proper
to Attaleiates's version of the genre, in the Rule it is piety that suffuses a document underpinned
by a suspicious legal mind. The selves in the two texts differ in mode rather than substance.
Komnene: The Alexiad

Attaleiates, lawyer-like, presents his case to suit each genre but has an underlying consistency.
Komnene is consistent even across genres-she uses their vaήety to consolidate her centre. The
Priface to her Will is stήkingly close to the later Alexiad in the mass and detail of its self
representations, and positively fi-eed by genre to be directed by the self 45 The Alexiad is, of
course, a vastly more ambitious work, but it too is a layered composition enclosed and per
meated by the authoήal self She is there fi-om the beginning, while the end- Alexios's death-
signifies the flooding την έμήν οίκίαν 'Όf my house." 46 She was the first-born, the one
έμφερές ... κατά πάντα τφ πατρί "resembling her father ... in all ways." 47 Everything she says
about herself reinforces that likeness to, and empathy with, her father and in such ways as to
impose his authoήty οη her own.
Her long, dramatic, Prologue addresses the relation of her history to her husband's un
finished Hyle. Her history answers to that universal tragedy, the tragedy of time: a philosopher's
perspective, in that the medium of history-wήting is also time.
'Ρέων ό χρόνος ακάθεκτα καi άεί τι κινούμενος παρασύρει καi παραφέρει πάντα τα
έν γενέσει καi ές βυθόν ...
Time flowing unchecked and always moving drags and carήes off all things in ex
istence into the deep ...48
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Penelope Buckley
She politely (and conventionally) echoes tenns used by Bryennios (λήθης άμαυρωθηναι
βυθφ),49 implicitly deferήng to his pre-eminence and showing that she can go οη as he began;
yet in the same opening sentence she parts company fi-om him, making it clear that her alle
giance is not to the old Roman tradition but to the Greek.50 She says nothing of history as
moral instruction, as Livy did,51 but invokes Sophocles οη time and oblivion, things only
tragedy can measure, and against which only history will serve. All this tacit self
positioning-this covert or subliminal mode of self-identifying-is amplified in what follows.
When she announces herself, she does so quite as boldly as Psellos in his perorations οη
himself; and yet, as with Psellos, there is a strategy of defence.
Ταύτα δέ διεγνωκυία εγώ 'Άννα, θυγάτηρ μεν των βασιλέων Άλεξίου καi Είρήνης,
πορφύρας τιθήνημά τε καi γέννημα, ου γραμμάτων ουκ iiμοιρος, άλλα καi τό
έλληνίζειν ές iiκρον έσπουδακυία καi ρητορικης ούκ άμελετήτως έχουσα καi τάς
άριστοτελικας τέχνας εδ άναλεξαμένη καi τούς Πλάτωνος διαλόγους καi τόν νουν
άπό της τετρακτύος των μαθημάτων πυκάσασα (δεί γαρ έξορχείσθαι ταύτα, καi ου
περιαυτολογία τό πραγμα, δσα ή φύσις καi ή περί τας έπιστήμας σπουδή δέδωκε καi
Ό Θεός iiνωθεν έπεβράβευσε καi ό καιρός συνεισήνεγκε) βούλομαι δια τησδέ μου
της γραφης τας πράξεις άφηγήσασθαι τουμου πατρός ουκ άξίας σιγfi παραδοθηναι
ουδέ τφ ρεύματι του χρόνου παρασυρηναι καθάπερ εiς πέλαγος άμνημοσύνης, δσας
τέ των σκήπτρων έπειλημμένος κατεπράξατο καi δσας πρό του διαδήματος εδρασεν
έτέροις βασιλευσιν ύπηρετούμενος.
Having known and understood these things, Ι, Anna, - daughter of the emperors
Alexios and Irene, born and nurtured in the Purple, not without some knowledge of
literature but rather having seήously studied the Greek language to a high degree, and
being not unpractised in Rhetoήc, and having read the Aristotelian treatises and the
dialogues of Plato well, and having cultivated my mind with the Quadrivium of
sciences (for the situation - and not self-advertisement - requires it be acknowledged
what Nature and my eagerness for learning have given me, and what God has directed
fi-om above and opportunity added) - Ι want through this my wήting to set forth my
father's deeds, deeds that do not deserve to be consigned to silence nor swept away οη
the flood of time as if into an ocean of oblivion ....52
This history is an act of volition. Hers is the central consciousness, she thinks, intends, decides.
Mind is the very quick of all she wήtes, mind and identity, and she details her powers based οη the
full paideia of the Byzantine intellectual, linguistic, and rhetoήcal training and, most im
portantly, a special knowledge of the great philosophers. The mighty opening sentence of her
self-introduction displays the skill in rhetoήc she claims: syntactically complex and vaήed,
cumulative in its implications, it sweeps God and nature up into a picture authorised by the
great past, and dήven by the energy of εγώ 'Άννα, βούλομαι, and the repeated καi.
The claims she makes are concentrated yet extensive, their functions knotted together, but
spreading rootlike through the history. The first knot-"daughter of the emperors Alexios and
Irene"-told us that she is wήting fi-om the centre of the empire, and that she is a woman.
Unlike Attaleiates and Psellos, who entered impeήal affairs through their skills and achieve
ments, she is born to hers, yet faces a bar to public discourse. Psellos defended himself from
charges of unorthodoxy in his intellectual explorations but did not need to show that he was
qualified to make them. Komnene's curriculum vitae is differently defensive: she is enteήng male
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Modes of Identity
terήtory and needs to claim the proficiency and knowledge of the most highly educated
Byzantine men, men such as her own husband, whose history she says she will continue.53
Those same details have a further function to be developed later. She is not only claiming an
education fitting her to engage in men's work and wήte history: she is aligning herself with
Psellos and beginning a characteήzation of him which will allow her to portray Italos as an
aberration, not like his great predecessor at all. She is laying the groundwork for a picture of
Alexios as encouraging philosophy and education as they should be, as her version of Psellos
would have approved: a Psellos whose Hellenism was coordinated with and subject to the
Chήstian piety he drew fi-om his mother.
Something else is dirnly foreshadowed: when she names herself as one of three, she begins a
long-term suggestion that she and her parents represent the Holy Family as the impeήal family οη
earth. The other children appear in supportive or antagonistic roles, but, as the first-born, she
makes her parents a family, while being πορφύρας τιθήνημά τε και γέννημα and, as she later
claims, the child who most resembled her father, she completes a consecrated tήad. The sug
gestion is so faint that it is easy to rniss, but her methods of identifying herself infiltrate the
naπative invisibly as well as οη the surface. There is a sense in which her siblings are de trop.
Having first identified herself by education, she declares herself an histoήan who understands
the rules. Οη a model set by Psellos, she fends offfuture cήtics: she will meet all their objections
with eyewitnesses and facts:
ένίων γαρ των νυν όντων ανθρώπων οί μεν πατέρες, οί δέ πάπποι έyένοντο οί τούτων
συνίστορες.
For the fathers and the grandfathers of some people now alive were witnesses of these
things."54
Finally, she identifies herself as a wife, the widow who inheήts her husband's task. The rest of
her long Prologue is given to him; and through his soπowful history she identifies herself
explicitly, even insistently, in these ways, while infiltrating the naπative with other thoughts.
She traces a seήes of campaigns Bryennios was involved in under her brother J ohn, first in Syήa,
when Antioch was regained, then, after he would come bήefly home, worn out, and ill, with
his unfinished history, in Syήa again, Cilicia, Pamphylia, Lydia, and Bithynia. The sketch
combines high praise and sorrow for her husband with the promised emphasis οη facts and
demonstrates her grasp of military affairs. She honours her husband's literary skills and creates
verbal echoes to suggest that she is closely following him. She is wήting μάλιστα most of all to
finish his unfinished labour; he wanted μάλιστα to work οη it. Each of them joins agency and
obedience to duty: Bryennios, among his other literary works, chσse προείλετο δέ μάλιστα to
wήte Alexios's history έξ έπιταγης της βασιλίδος "at the empress' command," and Komnene
says βούλομαι 'Ί want" to continue it, but that her undertaking is grounded in her duty to her
husband.55 Into the list of campaigns, she builds a tribute to Bryennios as the one who was έν
πασιν έπιφανέστατος "the most splendid among them all," just like his grandfather who was
των κατ' αύτόν διαφέρων ανδρών έπάξιον ην βασιλείας { τό} χρήμα Όutstanding in impeήal
capacity among the men of his time." 56 The courtesy towards her husband works to strengthen
the illusion that her history is merely the completion of his; an illusion so well created as to
seduce Howard-Johnston, and it builds up the sense that the empire hung οη these men's
fates.57 There is a quiet undertow of regret-recalling his for his grandfather-that neither
actually reigned. But all those signals are offset by very different ones. The work was σχεδιάσας
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Penelope Buckley
και ήμιτελές "roughly assembled and half-finished." 58 At the empress' request, he began with
Diogenes, and reached Alexios the young army leader only at the end:
τα γαρ πρό τούδε ούδέ μειράκιον ην και ούδέν δ τι iiξιον συγγραφης αύτφ
πέπρακτο, εί μή τις έγκωμίου λόγον και τα παιδικά αύτφ θήσαιτο.
for up to then my father was ηο more than a youth; he had done nothing worth wήting
about, unless someone were to see childish matters as a subject of encomium.59
Bryennios never reached Alexios's reign. There is even a subversive suggestion that a warήor
hero might not be best suited to wήte such a history, his labours in the field being too de
manding: it was chiefly soldieήng that killed him.60 Psellos and Attaleiates went οη campaign, as
Komnene did, but they all had protected occupations and so were perhaps better placed to
wήte a military history than a soldier.
Bryennios himself is praised in terms that foreshadow his role as the "Kaisar," a godlike
Homeric hero who was Alexios's real ήght hand.61 The whole section is a tήal run for Alexios
and his loss, a model of the history to come with the long labour and exhaustion of the hero
warήor and the tragic consequences for those left behind.
έyώ δ' ενταύθα γενομένη σκοτοδίνης έμπίπλαμαι την ψυχην και ρείθροις δακρύων
περιτέγγω τούς όφθαλμούς. ω
otov ή 'Ρωμαίων άπόλωλε βούλευμα· ... τό μέντοι
πάθος ... τό τραύμα...
At this point my mind is distrait; floods of tears fill my eyes when Ι think ofRome's
great loss ... the soπow ... the pain ...62
It is the play before the play.
άλλα γαρ έμαυτης αίσθάνομαι δια ταύτα παρενηνεγμένης του προκειμένου, και ό
καίσαρ μοι έπιστάς και τό του καίσαρος πένθος πένθος μοι έπέσταξε διωλύγιον ....
διπλα κατά την τραγφδίαν ... δάκρυα.
But Ι see that Ι have been caπied away by these things fi-om my project; the kaisar
stood over me and the kaisar's sorrow laid great soπow οη me too ... a double
weeping, as the playwήght says.63
Her small encomium emphasises her mixed genre: this is a history and a drama; she can summon not
only witnesses and facts but also presences, Bryennios here, and afterwards, pervasively, her father.
These are demanding presences, with whom the wήter partly identifies. As her husband's executor,
his proxy, she will be, in a manner, his self So with Alexios, but more nearly and completely.
She gives many signs that she will in fact wήte her own history, with her own mastery of
genre. Overtly, she identifies herself as an exemplary woman. She is loyal to her husband,
obedient to her mother, receptive to her father's pain when he complained that he deserved not
a history but a dirge; as a daughter she will honour the conflicting orders of two parents and
unite them metaphoήcally in the work. Υet the energy and power of her self-presentation go
well beyond these roles. Less overtly, but as clearly, she identifies herself as an independent
histoήan, with every power and ήght to be so. What the husband could not do, she can. Some
of what she says is coded, yet her seemingly opposing claims do not seem incoherent: like
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Modes of Identity
Psellos's mother, she is τό διnρησθαι πρός ταναντία καi μή διnρησθαι "dividing and not di
viding opposites," and the tension in which she holds those opposites attests the way Alexios
holds the empire together.64
There is a further confluence between her selves, as she dramatises her immersion in the
medium of time. When she describes her sources, vouching for the authenticity of her record,
she is illuminating her life:
τα μεν συν ... παρ' έμαυτης εχω, τα δέ και απο των ξυστρατευσαμένων τφ
αύτοκράτορι, ποικίλως ... μανθάνουσα... μάλιστα δέ καi αύτοπροσώπως περί
τούτων διηγουμένων πολλάκις ηκουον του τε αύτοκράτορος καi Γεωργίου του
Παλαιοαλόγου. έγώ δέ καi τα πολλά τούτων συνελεξάμην, καi κράτιστα έπi του
μετά τόν έμόν πατέρα τρίτου τα της βασιλείας σκηπτρα διέποντος ... έις τριακοστόν
γαρ τούτο ετος ... ούκ είδον, ούχ' ώμιλήκειν ανθρώπφ πατρφφ ... li δέ συνειλόχειν
της ίστορίας ... από τινων συνελεξάμην ξυγγραμμάτων αχρείων καi ασπουδων
παντάπασι καi γερόντων ανθρώπων στρατευσαμένων κατ' έκεινο καιρού, καθ' δν
ούμός πατήρ των σκήπτρων 'Ρωμαίων επείληπτο
Some of what Ι have ... is fi-om my own resources, but some Ι have learnt in vaήous
ways from men who campaigned with the emperor .... Above all Ι have often heard
these things discussed by the emperor and George Palaeologos when Ι was present. Ι
gathered much of the mateήal myself and the greater part in the reign of the third to
wield the imperial sceptre after my father... For thirty years now... Ι have not seen,
not spoken with a fuend of my father... Ι have collected the mateήals to construct the
history fi-om insignificant and quite unpolished wήtings, and from old men who were
campaigning at the time when my father seized the Roman sceptre ...65
Unlike Psellos and Attaleiates, she is now far distant from events, an ageing woman who has
survived the peήod when encomia οη living emperors might be useful, living in conventual
isolation with only old soldiers to refresh her memoήes and fill in gaps, labouήng in the
lamplight at the task and smiling at her own reflections of the past: all these glimpses are
intensely particular, all create, through her, a sense of continuity with the past, and together
they fortify her claims to be disinterested, impartial, grounded, denying herself sleep for the
work's sake as Alexios did for the empire.66
At ηο point does she disown her past selves.67 The history is punctuated by memoήes that
searnlessly connect with later judgments. Her mother asked her to delay being born until
Alexios returned from battle, and she did, δπερ καν τfi γαστρi την εiς τό μέλλον πρός τούς
γειναμένους εύνοιαν αριδήλως ύπεσημαίνετο "which very clearly indicated even in the womb
her good disposition towards her parents in the future": an epiphany in the twinned genres of
hagiography and the Impeήal Life.68 Heralded by a sign and preternaturally aware, she was the
child most suited to succeed her father; by nature she understood his thinking and could best
articulate it.69 Furthermore, her sources inform her understanding of an even earlier time.
When Alexios seized power, he was plagued by innuendo for allowing the previous empress to
stay in the palace. Komnene's memoήes from her childhood betrothal to Constantine, the
empress' son, authoήse her rebuttal.
έκ παιδαρίου συνανα<σ>τραφεισα τfi βασιλίδι καi ούπω τόν όγδοον ύπερελάσασα

χρόνον· πολύ δέ τό περί εμέ φίλτρον έχουσα των απορρήτων πάντων κεκοινώνηκε.
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Penelope Buckley
From a young child, when I was not yet even eight, 1 was living with the empress
[Maήa].Having a great affection for me she told me all her secrets.70
These memones bloom into rapturous descήptions of Maήa's beauty and

Constantine's-proof of their moral beauty-and enable Komnene to clear both Maήa and
Alexios of blame.71 They even stretch to exonerate him for ignoring Maήa's share in a later plot
against himself The child-self authenticates the testimony of the wήter.
Later, she remembered her mother reading the Church Fathers, especially Maximus, even
when a meal was served. When she told her mother how such works affected her, «εγωγε
τρέμω ... τό γαρ πάνυ θεωρητικόν τε καi νοερόν του άνδρός ... ίλιγγον παρέχεται τοις
άναγιγνώσκουσιν» 'Ί tremble ... for this man's [wήting], so very theoretical and intellectual ... it
makes the head swim", her mother answered that she herself did not approach such texts
without trembling but, «σύ δέ μοι μικρόν άνάμεινον ... καi της τούτων άπογεύση ήδύτητος.
72
Wait a little and ... you will taste the sweetness of these». Again, the intense, particular,
freshness of the memory is offered as testimony to her father's and mother's labouring day and
night searching the Holy Scήptures, and both the memory and the quasi-memory are artfully
73
placed to punctuate the story of Italos's downfall. They set her parents' love of Scήpture
against his disrespect, while Maximus's "highly theoretical," "intellectual" thought supports her
claim that Alexios encouraged the study ofHellenic culture, so long asHoly Scήpture was put
74
first, and, further, that Alexios understood Psellos and Italos did not.
Again, when Komnene recalls accompanying her father οη the campaign, the memory has a
cluster of functions. It testifies to her direct expeήence of war and supports her claim to understand
strategy, it makes Alexios's vulnerability graphic, places the impeήal family as more important to his
impeήum than the throne and tent which usually travel with an emperor, and, most powerfully,
illuminates his military labours as a Holy War. Paul's famous passage οη the love of Chήst is ap
propήated for Alexios who now campaigns της των Χριστιανών άγάπης for love of the Chήstians,
while ή διάπυρος προς έκεινον άγάπη a burning love for him compels Irene to leave the sanctuary of
the palace and create a sanctuary in the tent, personifying that love of peace declared to be the end of
wars.75 The picture of Irene in her covered litter-τό της σεμνότητος άγαλμα, τό της άγιότητος
καταγώγιον "the image of majesty, the dwelling-place of holiness"---charges the military landscape
with the aura of a sacred presence, a suggestion of the tabernacle travelling with Moses through the
desert.76 The young Anna imbues this elevated sequence with sharp sense-impressions and affect.
Such memoήes allow Komnene to animate other events without needing to say that she was
there. The assumption is she often was, and she can call οη that to be as graphic as she likes.
Duήng the ordeal of Michael Anemas, a public spectacle to humiliate him and his co
conspirators as they proceed towards their fate, the girl Anna plays an interventionist role.
παραλαβόντες ο-ον τούτους οί σκηνικοί καi σάκκους περιβαλόντες, τάς δέ κεφαλάς

έντοσθίοις βοών καi προβάτων ταινίας δίκην κοσμήσαντες, έν βουσiν
άναγαγόντες ... τούτους δια της βασιλικής ηγον αύλίδος.
The stage-managers seized and threw sackcloth around them, adorned their heads
with οχ and sheep innards as garlands, set them οη oxen ... and drove them through
the palace court.77
As Anemas comes ever nearer to the GoldenHands, he communicates in fi-antic pantomime at his
hoπor of being blinded. The emperor and empress are praying apart, but the crowd is moved to tears:
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Modes of Identity
καi μαλλον ήμείς, αί τού βασιλέως θυγατέρες. έγώ δέ ... την βασιλίδα καi μητέρα
απαξ καi δiς προύκαλούμην ... κατελθούσα καi εξω των πυλών περίφοβος έστηκυία,
έπεi μη άπεθάρρουν την είσοδον, νεύμασι την βασίλισσαν προύκαλούμην.
And we, especially, the daughters of the emperor. Ι was calling ... to the empress again
and again ... going down, Ι stood fearfully outside the doors; since Ι did not dare to
enter, Ι was summoning the empress by signs.78
The empress comes, she urges the emperor, and he sends a runner carrying a pardon. Ιη this
pantomime, Alexios is the Judge relenting through their intercession οη the model of the
heavenly court. Whether the other actors know their parts beforehand, as they did with the
"blinding" ofRoussel, or act spontaneously, is not said, but the whole scene is stage-managed
(οί σκηνικοί): Alexios has the pardon ready. Either way, it is a piece of theatre prefiguring the
more elaborate and dreadful scene in which Basil is burnt. The emotional eye-witness account
here gives Komnene tacit licence to wήte the later scene as if she had expeήenced that too.
The roles she plays in such memoήes are girlish, womanly, in ways that bear out Neville's fine
79
analysis of her negotiations with her audience. She is a grief-stήcken widow; obedient fi-om the
womb; attentive listener to the former empress, to her father, and his comrades; tender-hearted but
too timid and respectful to enter her parents' pήvate space; and her mother's chief support. There are,
however, countersignals. All these roles have another side: precociously, she chooses the time of her
own birth; as a girl, she observes and analyses so accurately that her adult self can use her expeήence
without a filter. She has the power to help her mother guard her father. She prompts and guides her
parents to save Anemas. And at Alexios's death, her mother looks to her for direction:
Έπi τρυτάνης δέ οίον έστηκυία εiς έμέ πολλάκις ένητένιζε καi τόν έμόν περιέμενε
τρίπουν, ώς σύνηθες ην αύτfj καν τοίς άλλοτε ξυμπίπτουσι περιστατικοίς, καi δ τι αν
αύτfi άποφοιβάσαιμι προσεδόκα.
Standing as if in suspense, she gazed at me repeatedly and waited for my oracle, as she
used to in cήses at other times as well and looked for any prophecy Ι might make.80
Like her grandmother, Komnene has the capacity to direct women and men.81
Again, in the great scene of lamentation over Alexios, her grief has many functions: a
placatory one, as Neville argues; a proof she is like Alexios in her compassionate nature; a
powerful repudiation of his successors; and it completes her literary form, a tragedy enclosing a
history. Her own role in the scene is complex: her grieving figure almost loses her mind, yet her
naπative is forensic and controlled; and there is a clear distinction between these versions of
herself but ηο conflict. They work together to produce both tension and release.
Ιη multiple, but spaήng, ways, Komnene identifies herself explicitly as the wήter in control,
and as the person who remembers.82 She fleshes out her influential presence as a central figure
in the impeήal family and threads the text with a barely tacit claim to be Alexios's ήghtful heir.
There is yet another mode of identity which is wholly tacit but pervasive. Biographers may slip
over the edge of objectivity, but Komnene does not slip. Her self-identification with Alexios is
systematic. She transfers to him her philosophical training, while implying that her education
came fi:-om his policies. She endows him with her sensibility, her anxious calculations, and
rebuttals; she immerses her own mind in his strategic problems and his pains.83 It is a two-way
transference, a comprehensive double alibi. It gives her history a beating heart, while she uses
that same mutual transference to authoήse her own readings. The integrity of her selves miπors
the integrity of Alexios's empire, its rational, compassionate, pious, family-based, structure, its
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Penelope Buckley
philosophic dimensions, and the unassuageable grief of its loss. Ιη a way-a modern way at
least-the work is saying, Je suis Alexios.
Psellos: The Chronographia et al.

Komnene can define herself in many modes with perfect compositional coherence. Psellos, her
great exemplar, is not like that: the same man never steps into the ήνer twice. Like Attaleiates,
his history naπates his own entry into public life, but where that scarcely disturbs the tenor of
Attaleiates's work, it causes changes and upheavals in Psellos. The empire's instability is ex
aggerated by the play of empathy in his own temperament, and by his focus οη the court; it is
expressed through daring literary expeήmentation.84 All the characters in the Chronographia
engage in role-playing: they take part in scenes; the constant metaphor is of the theatre. Psellos's
history of his times is a history of emperors engaging in the impeήal role and of himself en
gaging in impeήal-related roles: those roles are his express modes of identity and there is on
going conflict as to what kind of drama is at stake. Ιη the end, it is a tragicomedy.
Ι have ηο doubt Kaldellis is ήght that Psellos's dominant idea for his role is that of the political
philosopher who guides the ruler, in place of the Platonic ideal of a king-philosopher; but, unlike
Kaldellis, Ι do not think the Chronographia is planned and worked through to this end.85 The
whole history is uneven, both in modus operandi and in quality, the first being tied to vaήables in
Psellos's execution of that role, for it is never more than potential, seemingly promised, never
actual; failure to realise it bήngs accommodations, compromise, dismay; and that Psellos clearly
sees this in some phases, but at others appears not to, is tied to the unevenness in quality.
For, all its later fame and influence, the Chronographia is an expeήment in what is almost a
new genre and problematic for a man so implicated in public affairs. Starting inconspicuously at
the point where Leo the Deacon stopped, he works his mateήal as he goes. Self must wait as he
creates a template for the impeήal role in Basil ΙΙ: a fiercely ascetic soldier-emperor who leads
his aπnies all year round and amasses the wealth that later emperors disperse; his one flaw being
his failure to arrange a line of succession.86 Those strengths and that omission open the way for
the decline which is the Chronographia's true theme. Basil's brother Constantine then becomes
an exercise in antithesis, an old playboy who plays roles but not the impeήal one. Antithesis is a
founding pήnciple for Psellos as much as a technique.
By Book Three, Psellos is rnaking daήng technical advances. He produces a new impeήal type for
Romanos ΠΙ, a Fantasist who proves a tήal run for Constantine ΙΧ, and starts to invest his several
characters with inner lives and mutual interplay. Having seen the aging emperor in processions when
he first came to study in Constantinople, he uses the memory to introduce a discreet role for himself
άλλα καi στολαίς κατελαμπρύνετο χρυσοπάστοις- καi τόν άλλον κόσμον ήμφίεστο ...
άχθοφορων έν ασθενεί σώματι... έγωγ' ούν πολλάκις έθεασάμην ουτως έν ταίς
πομπαίς έχοντα... βραχύ τι των νεκρών διαφέροντα ... δλον γαρ αύτφ έξφδήκει τό
πρόσωπον· καi τό χρώμα ούδέν τι κάλλιον είχε των τριταίων περί τας ταφας... των
δέ περί τήν κεφαλήν αύτφ {των} τριχών, αί μεν πλείους... άπεπεπτώκεισαν·
βραχείαι δέ τινες καi ψιλαi ήτάκτουν περί τό μέτωπον, τφ εκείνου οtμαι
συγκινούμεναι πνεύματι.
He even made himself resplendent in robes shot with gold and had the rest of the
trappings around him... a heavy burden for a weakened body ... Ι have often seen him
in that state myself duήng these processions ... and he was scarcely different fi:-om the
dead. His whole face was swollen, and its colour was ηο lovelier than that of people
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Modes of Identity
three days in the grave ... Most of the hair ... had fallen out ... but a few sparse bits
strayed around his forehead, stiπed, Ι imagine, by his breathing.87
Psellos animates the metaphor-a Dying Emperor embodying impeήal decline--by passing it
directly through himself he is the watcher-figure, who sees, feels, speculates, composes, his distaste
only a step aw ay fi-om empathy. The effect is more than evidential testimony. The role bήngs in an
element of pathos, rrήxed with absurdity, which marks the history and helps defme its character.
The watcher role develops as Psellos draws closer to the centre of power, so that Michael IV
attracts a deeper pity rrήxed with something close to gήef; his humiliation by epilepsy produces a
feeling of humiliation in those observing it, among whom Psellos invisibly places himself 88
Observing human vice and fi-ailty only deepens this watcher's capacity for pathos.89 Psellos fi-ames
the upήsing against Michael V as something near-divine, yet, when he sees Michael and his
brother clinging to an altar, dignity and spiήt gone, he is overwhelmed by lacιimae renιm:
θυμου μεν ουδ' ότιουν ίχνος έφύλαξα τfί ψυχfί ... προς την καινοτομίαν
μεταβεβλημένος του πράγματος ... είτα δη ώσπέρ τινος ένδοθεν άναρρυείσης πηγης
δακρύων, ρους"' άκατάσχετος προεχείτο των όφθαλμών.
Ι held ηο trace of anger in my heart ... Ι was changed by the strangeness of the thing
... then as if some spήng of tears had flooded up inside, an unstoppable stream came
from my eyes.90
The watcher briefly is the action, the human register of the sheer mystery and soπow of
existence. The role of watcher frames events as in a theatre and yet intensifies the emotion.
Through such effects, the text identifies the wήter as a volatile personal mix of empathy and
detachment whose view of Byzantium is as ambivalent as himself The writerly, imaginative,
feeling self remains the fi:-eest of Psellos's roles.
His active roles are used more judgmentally. He projects figures of himself to sketch the promise
and diagnose the failure of successive reigns. From listener to court gossip to public servant, impeήal
adviser, fuend, encomiast, envoy, unwilling colluder, his successive roles interact with the ideal of
the political philosopher in ways which qualify or compromise it.91 Most of these roles come into
bήlliant interplay duήng the reign of Constantine ΙΧ when Psellos first tήes to take the ideal role for
himself as the philosopher for his time. Mindful of cήtics and his own gratitude for Constantine's
patronage, he enters a caveat-all emperors are a πήχ of bad and good; antithesis is
unavoidable--and then charts his own scholarly history as if to offer equilibήum. Το power and
good fortune, he bήngs all else the empire needs: philosophy, which he has single-handedly revived,
and the whole cultural heήtage of letters, rhetoήc, science, theology, and law.
έκπνεύσασαν την σοφίαν καταλαβών ... αυτός άνεζωπύρησα οίκοθεν καί με

άλλος εiς άλλον παρέπεμπεν ... εiς Άριστοτέλην καi Πλάτωνα ... ές Πλωτίνους καi
Πορφυρίους καi Ίαμβλίχους ... εiς τόν θαυμασιώτατον Πρόκλον ... άριθμών τέ
μεθόδοις έαυτόν έντείνας ... ετι τέ μουσικοίς καi άστρονομικοίς ... καi αυτός τι τφ
θείφ συνεισφέρων πληρώματι. καί εί μέ τις ...έπαινείν ... βούλοιτο, ... δτι μη έκ
ρεούσης πηγης, εί τί μοι σοφίας μέρος συνείλεκται, ηρανισάμην· άλλ'
έμπεφραγμένας εύρηκώς, άνεστόμωσά τε καi άνεκάθηρα· καi έν βάθει που τό ναμα
κείμενον, συν πολλφ άνείλκυσα πνεύματι.
Finding philosophy almost dead ... Ι myself, by my own means, re-kindled it ... One
sent me to another ... to Aήstotle and Plato ... to Plotinus and Porphyry and
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Penelope Buckley
Iamblichus ... to the most admirable Proclus ... 1 extended my investigations further,
to systems of numbers ... even to music and astronomy ... And I myself contήbuted
something to the sum of theology ... and if anyone should want to praise me, let it be
... that, ifl have gathered any share of wisdom, 1 had it from ηο flowing fountain, but
finding the sources blocked I cleared them, and wherever the stream lay deep, 1
brought it up with a great effort.92
The pattern of the Chrσnσgraphia starts to emerge: an ideal possibility meets a succession of gains
followed by losses. Psellos's access to the emperor comes through his reputation as a rhetor.
When Constantine first hears him, he nearly embraces him, and Psellos uses his enthusiasm to
try to teach the emperor the philosophy that rhetoήc serves. He proceeds gently, patiently, as
only a pσlitical philosopher can do.
τό τε δεινόν αύτfjς, ού συγκεχυμένον ούδ' ασαφές- άλλ' άρμόζον τοις καιροις καi
τοις πράγμασι ... ταύτα δή πάντα δεικνύς, είς ερωτα της τέχνης έκίνουν. εί δέ γε
βασκαίνοντα τούτοις ίδοιμι, μεταβαλών αύθις, άπολωλέναι τέ μοι την μνήμην ων
έγίνωσκον έσκηπτόμην.
[The] peculiar strength [ofRhetoήc] lies in its freedom from confusion and unclaήty,
its adaptation to times and circumstances... Demonstrating all these things, 1 moved
him to a love of the art. But if I saw that he was growing irήtated, changing my
approach, 1 would pretend to have forgotten what I meant [to say].93
Although the histoήc Constantine gave Psellos the public tide of philosopher, in the Chrσnσgraphia
he never sees beyond the rhetoήcian, a source of immediate delight: he makes Psellos his close
fiiend, but chiefly for his value as an entertainer, in which capacity Psellos is supplanted by a grosser
entertainer whose garbled speech gives the emperor even more pleasure than the unmatched beauty
of his own.94 Οη another fi-ont, when Psellos tries Aήstotelian reasoning to persuade the emperor to
95
guard his person, Constantine waves the argument away; he accepts advice only when he likes it.
When Psellos tries to use his linguistic genius to coπect Constantine's foreign policy, the emperor
thwarts him.96 Progressively, the figures of philosopher and ruler change fi-om being com
plementary, at least in theory, to mutually opposed.
The roles actually allowed Psellos through public office and intimacy with the ruler are
vitiated by the folly and chaos of the rule. As an impeήal secretary, he takes part in processions
and is probably among the courtiers accompanying the emperor in his extramarital visits to
Skleraina; as a senator he tacitly colludes in the outrageous Treaty of Friendship, where
Skleraina is made Augusta beside Zoe.97 Part of his official public service is to record the
emperor's farcical court actions.98 All this may be political agility, but the philosophic ideal is
tainted by association and practice. Psellos has little purchase οη the action and, when the City
is attacked, can only watch as Constantine simulates the Dying Emperor:
ό δέ γε αυτοκράτωρ... 'ίνα τέως όφθείη τφ έναντίφ στρατεύματι ζων, έσθητι

βασιλικfi κοσμηθείς, έπι τίνος προβεβλημένου... οίκήματος αμα ταις βασιλίσι
καθηστο, όλίγον μεν έμπνέων· βραχύ δ' άναστένων.
That he might be seen by the opposing aπny as still alive, he sat, dressed in impeήal
robes, οη a balcony... together with the empresses, scarcely breathing, but weakly
•
groanιng.99
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Modes of Identity
When Leo's soldiers mock Constantine, Psellos can only murmur reassuήngly.100 There is not
much of the philosopher in anything he manages to do. Saving the State, the emperor, and
himself, embaπassment is his main task.101 The reign which promised so much becomes a
crushing disappointment in which the political philosopher loses both dignity and probity.
Deciding for his own safety to leave court, he joins a kind of conspiracy, lies, and plays οη the
emperor's affection by acting like a man about to die. It is an unlovely performance.
That unloveliness is a judgment οη the reign, but Psellos's energies work unimpeded in
other ways through his roles as watcher and as the architect who celebrates as well as diagnosing
through his structures. As watcher, he "live-streams " the pathos, the delusions, mixed with fear,
affection, neediness, expressive energies, of the impeήal figu res: Zoe, worshipping her figurine
of Jesus; Constantine in his obsessive attachments. The great ήchness of this section of the
Chronographia lies in the powerful confusions ofhuman beings seen at close range by a detached
as well as empathetic observer: one aspect of the philosopher is found here.
As architect, he bήlliandy constructs the reign as a trajectory ofhope and disappointrnent served
by versions ofhimself Clearly, by charting his own failures in his chosen role, he charts the failure of
the reign: the philosopher being honoured but not listened to; the rhetoήcian as entertainer being
superseded; the senator powerless, the bosom fiiend supplanted, the counsellor brushed aside. Law is
a plaything. Α cautious foreign policy is anathema to the emperor's desire to please. Υet these failures
of emperor and philosopher in their allotted roles are only part of what is animated through that
structure. Constantine himselfhas a creative energy, a love ofbeauty, a fund ofaffection, which surge
through the contradictions and the painful farce. Psellos's naπative ends by splitring selves and genres,
the hope projected as what an encomiast might say, the disappointrnent in the histoήan's record.
Both survive in the histoήc memory. Constantine's bodily beauty is set against the hoπors of his
physical decay. His gloήous church-building and landscaping embody the wonderful possibilities his
reign suggested, while their inexcusable cost to the treasury and people point to its disgrace. The text
identifies Psellos as histoήan and encomiast, in that Constantine's warmth, ebullience, imagination,
ignite responses in Psellos's sensibility which keep the play between extremes alive. Constantine's
history embraces the beauty ofthe possibilities seen through their loss, seen through the interplay of
genres in the intelligence of wήterly design.
He finds it hard to wήte himselfinto Theodora's reign at all. He takes her summons from his
monastery as an invitation to advise her but finds himself displaced by someone the antithesis of
himself Her chosen counsellor was not an orator, not literary, τού γαρ πολιτικού ήθους ...
έστέρητο "lacked the political temperament," and ού φιλόσοφος- άλλα μιμούμενος φιλόσοφον
ενδοξος "had the reputation not of a philosopher but an imitation philosopher." 102 Although
he is not Keroularios, Psellos attacks him as if he were, relaying his real conflict with the
patήarch, where Psellos had a role, into a situation where he lacks one:
εγωγ' ο-ον την στάθμην τfjς τοιαύτης γνώμης, θαυμάζω μεν, αiωσι δέ, άλλ' ού
χρόνοις πρόσφορον ηγμαι.
Ι myselfadmire the stήctness of such a mind, but Ι consider it belongs to eternity, not
•
tιme.103
The reader is his only audience for a diatήbe against the hated dominant faction.
καi αiθεροβατούσιν έπi χρόνον μακρόν, άφ' αιν κατολισθαίνουσι τάχιστα, έπειδαν
έπιγείου αίσθωνται κνiσης.
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Penelope Buckley
They tread οη air for long peήods, fi-om which they slip down very quickly when
they smell savoury fat οη earth.104
This barely veiled and crude attack οη Keroularios is poor cousin to his bήlliant forays οη the
patriarch elsewhere. Ιη his Funeral Oration and his letter to the patήarch, he knows exactly how
to project himself into the agon. Ιη the Funeral Oration, he entangles Keroulaήos in a verbal
spiderweb. At one point, he gives quietly lethal praise to just the attήbutes reviled in the
Chronographia, both his intransigence:
ούκ εχει τις επαινείν άποχρώντως, δτι διορθούμενος μέν εκείνον βαρύς τε εδόκει και
δυσπαραίτητος
One cannot adequately praise his tendency to be inexorable and severe toward [the
105
emperor] in coπecting him
and his tendency to be uplifted by the liturgy ύπέρ πηχυν της γης άπnώρητο "almost one
meter."10 6 Ιη another strand, he re-makes Keroulaήos in his own likeness. He gives the pa
tήarch and his brother an early love of philosophy and science; places Keroularios in the po
sition he likes to assume himself
εκείνφ δέ ηρκει ή αύτή και προς τάναντία ροπη και ην ή εκείνου ζωη κέντρον
άκριβέστατον και εύμέγεθες
His whole life was the exact centre of a broad circle, uniting those lives that were
opposite to each other and those lives that were similar,
and imbues him with his own self-proclaimed temperament (πρςιότης "mildness") 107 and
political finesse:
Είτα δη άσκητικφ βίφ και αύθις πολυτελεί διδούς εαυτον, το μέν δια την σύντροφον
αρετήν και τού καλού ενεκα, το δέ δια την συνήθειαν, εξήλλακτο προς εκάτερα ...
Τοσούτον ην αύτφ το προς πάντα προσκεχωρηκος.
Sometimes he lived as an ascetic, because virtue was his constant companion and because
he loved the supreme good, and sometimes he lived luxuήously, οη account of custom. So,
he constandy changed his behaviour... Such was his adaptability to all circumstances.108
Such praise applies a pincer logic: if deserved, it is to Keroulaήos's credit, and to his discredit if
not. Psellos is seeding the patήarch's memory with his own values, coπecting him, as it were,
posthumously. The Psellos "self " is like a piece of modelling clay or, as here, a theoretic
construct, a transparency that can be overlaid οη another's.
Ιη the Letter the attack is acrobatic. Psellos is supeήor in everything. Ιη epistemology his reasoning
is inductive and the other's deductive.109 As a philosopher, he knows he is compounded of soul and
body, whereas Keroulaήos thinks he has excluded the body fi-om his being.110 As a political phi
losopher, Psellos knows he is as others are and can negotiate with them.
κάγώ μεν ουτως άρχαίως εχω και αμαθώς, ώς μη παρά την τύχην επαίρεσθαι, άλλα
χρασθαί μοι τοίς άργυρωνήταις ώς iσοπολίταις.
But Ι am so old-fashioned and ignorant that Ι have not ήsen above my lot, but rather Ι
must deal with slaves as though they have political ήghts equal to my own.111
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Modes of Identity
Keroulaήos, by contrast, is επουράνιος άγγελος "a heavenly angel," ακλινής, καν σπένδηταί τις
καν δάκρυσιν έξιλάσκηται "indifferent to anyone making peaceful overtures or atoning with
tears."112 The patήarch has the aπogance of entitlement, whereas συνήθη 'Όrdinary" Psellos
has made his own way in the spiήt commended in Coήnthians Ι, 13.113
φιλώ, σύ δέ μισείς, σπένδομαι, σύ δέ άπεχθαίρεις, έξιλεούμαι, σύ δέ άπωθfj

Ι love, you hate; Ι make peace, you detest; Ι appease, you dήve away.114
As theologian, Psellos is awed and tentative before the divine, while σύ δέ μόνος των πάντων ...
των άδύτων κατατολμ�ς "you alone of all men boldly enter into the inner sanctuary."115 He
even claims to have been martyred at the patήarch's hands and his final taunt is that the world
will know the patήarch only through Psellos the famous wήter.116
Clearly, the fi:-ee form of the Letter has allowed him to compose an attack unfettered to the
order of events, whereas in the history of Theodora, his lack of visible access to her makes the
genre seem like an unfitting coat: ηο shoulder-twitching makes it comfortable. He wήtes as if
his being passed over as impeήal adviser is the measure of its failure too, but his shadowy figures
are those of power-starved shadow-minister and disoήented wήter as he grapples with new
politics and changed artistic problems. The "bad counsellor" tσpσs is too crude.
With Michael VI, he starts afi:-esh, returning ironically to the template set by Basil ΙΙ, the
soldier-emperor.
Δοκεί πως τοίς αρτι βασιλεύειν λαχούσιν, άρκείν είς εδραν τού κράτους, ην τό
πολιτικόν γένος τούτους κατευφημήσωσιν.
Apparently for those recently chosen to reign it was a sufficient base for power if the
117
citizens spoke well of them.
Michael pours out honours οη the cιtιzenry but insults the military, in particular Isaak
Komnenos, and a rebellion forms. Once Isaak's army is at the City gates, Michael recalls Psellos,
who claims to have given him three pieces of advice, the second of which gave Psellos his great
literary opportunity.118 The embassy to Isaak is recognised as the centrepiece of the
Chrσnographia, not for its histoήcity, nor its success, but for its dramatization of a Byzantine
ideal. It is a bήlliant and elaborate drama in a skene or tent, the tent-flap thrown open like a
curtain, Isaak aπayed in the impeήal role he is to act. His army is both real and dangerous, but it
too acts its part, formed in concentήc circles like the court, armed ostentatiously, emitting
deafeningly orchestrated war-cήes. It embodies the spectacle and resonance of military power
while Psellos, advancing to the centre, voices the principle of law, bringing reason, eloquence,
paideia, all the cultural capital of the empire, face to face with that power. His companions
choose him for the task because as a philosopher he will be the best speaker.119 He performs as
an experienced rhetor, playing to different sections of the army in different ways, and he
performs in parallel for the reader, recapitulating his arguments, his pauses, gestures, shifi:s of
focus, in a literary re-enactment.
ελαθον γαρ αύτούς ίδιωτικώς φθεγγόμενος όμού καi σοφώς. ζηλώσας γαρ έκείσε
την λυσιακήν των ονομάτων κοινότητα, την συνήθη λέξιν καi άφελη τεχνικωτάτοις
νοήμασιν κατεκόσμησα. έπιμνησθήσομαι γούν των κεφαλαίων τού διαλόγου,
όπόσον μη έπιλέλησμαι.
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Penelope Buckley
έδείνωσα γούν εύθύς τό προοίμον, ούκ ασαφώς είρηκώς- άλλα τεχνικώς.

It escaped their notice that I was speaking as an ordinary person and at the same time
advisedly. For, imitating Lysias, using the commonest expressions, 1 decorated familiar
and plain language with philosophical ideas ... Anyway, 1 shall rehearse the heads of
the argument, so far as I remember.
1 launched forcefully into the prologue, speaking clearly, but artfully.120
He starts by talking up the impeήal position of Caesar. The aήstocrats around Isaak are in
terested but the army is turbulent, and Psellos descήbes himself as ήσυχάζων είστήκειν,
άναμένων όπότε τό πληθος έφησυχάσειεν "standing in silence, waiting for the crowd to
quieten down." He treats the men respectfully, empathizing with their grievances, explaining
the traditions of succession, and giving precedence to their expeήence together with his own
inductive reasoning.
και ώς τοιούτον ή τάξις: πραξις- είτα δή θεωρία· και ό καθαρτικός πρότερον· είθ' ό
θεωρητικός.
For proper order is like this: praxis; then reflection; first, the man fit to be purged [by
expeήence]; then the theoήst.
He pauses to give them time to think but his real target is Isaak.
«εί δέ βασιλεύων αύτός ... έπιχολώτατός <τφ> γένοιο· και .. θώμεν τόν πρώτον ...
της συγκλητικής η στρατιωτικής τάξεως ... έπιβουλήν τινα κατά τού σού κράτους
δραματουργήσειεν, άντιτιθεις όπόσα πεπόνθει ... αρα αν αυτάρκης πρός την
έπιβουλήν ή άντιθεσις δόξn σοι;»
έπεστόμιστο (έδίδου γαρ ού τοσούτον τφ πιθανώς λέγειν· άλλα τφ άληθεστέρων
λόγων ακούειν).
"Now suppose that you were emperor, and you were to become very unpleasant and
let us say that the leader of the senate or the chief of the armed forces ... were to
construct a plot against your rule, setting against it how much he had suffered...
would the argument seem adequate to justify the plot to you?"
He kept silence (for he was less concerned to argue persuasively than to listen to the
truer case.) 121
It is the noble entourage that now takes fi-ight, seeing Psellos engage Isaak directly with
himself-the very type of the relationship he aims for with an emperor.
When news arήves of the coup in the City, Psellos's role bήefly breaks down, but the new
emperor surpήses him. και πυνθάνεταί μου, πώς αν άριστα βασιλεύσειε. 'Ήe asked me how
best he might govern."122 Isaak appeals to him as a philosopher and invites the same com
mendation for himself 123 Isaak then names Psellos the first among his fήends and President of
the Senate. The great scene beforehand, and Isaak's demeanour now, together represent
Psellos's version of the ideal State: Byzantium as it might be.
The reign which follows is not only another bitter disappointment to Psellos but ends
bitterly for Isaak too and blears the claήty of Psellos's self-projections. As the Body Politic-no
longer situated in the emperor-becomes a grotesque metaphor with an existence of its own,
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Modes of Identity
the text identifies Psellos less as a philosopher than as a cartoonist or wήter of political tracts,
disgorging images.
άλλ' εκείνος μεταποιησαι πάντα βουλόμενος- και χρόνοις πολλοίς την ρωμα'ίκην
βασιλείαν ύλομανήσασαν σπεύδων εύθύς εκτεμείν· η καθαπερει σώμα τερατείας
πάσης μεστόν, κεφαλαίς μεν διαμεμερισμένον πολλαίς- δυστράχηλόν τε και
πολυτράχηλον· χερσί τε ουκ ευαριθμήτοις διαπεπλασμένον· και ποσιν iσαρίθμοις
χρώμενον είτα δη και τά ενδον υπουλον και κακόηθες- και τά μεν διεξφδηκός- τά δέ
φθίνον· και τουτο μεν ύδεριουν· τουτο δέ φθινάδι νόσφ διαρρυέν, επιχειρήσας
άποτεμείν άθρόον.
But he wanted to change everything; and was rushing to prune the Roman empire
straightaway, where for many years it had been wildly overgrowing, or like a body
filled with all monstrosity, or dividing into many heads; a threatening great neck;
shaped with too many hands to count and having just as many feet; and then festeήng
and disordered in the parts inside; swollen in some, but wasting away in others; this
part was dropsied, but that slipping away with a wasting disease. He was trying to cut
down the whole body.124
Psellos approves the policies but abhors the haste and mourns the waste of his most hopeful
pupil's greatness.
άλλα τό του επιστατουντος απαράδεκτον λογισμου, τό γενναίον εκείνου διέφθειρε

φρόνημα.
But the refusal to accept reason as a guide destroyed his noble thinking.125
Such guiding reason could have been supplied by a political philosopher.

The reign itself is wήtten in an over-heated style not unlike the fulminations against
Theodora's advisers, suggesting that Psellos was side-lined this time too. Though he visits Isaak
often, when he finds the emperor seήously ill, he has to invent a role for himself as a clinical
diagnostician in a haughty contest with the court physicians. It is another way of marking the
sick state ofthe empire, but the figure hat Psellos cuts is disingenuous, and the empress speaks to
him with contempt.
«όναίμεθά σου... οποσα βούλει της συμβουλης ώ φιλόσοφε. ώς καλάς δέ ήμίν

άποδίδως τάς άμοιβάς, μεταθείναι σκεψάμενος εiς τόν μοναδικόν βίον τόν
αυτοκράτορα.»
"Would we might ... welcome your advice as much as you intend, philosopher. You
repay us with such beautiful returns, looking to convert the emperor to a monk's
life" _ 126
By "philosopher" she surely means a monk, debasing the term given by Isaak and Psellos to
each other, and downgrading the philosopher's status at court.
There are some signs that the "second edition" or revision ofthe Chronographia begins before
the end of Isaak's reign, rather than afterwards. Το cover his own disloyalty to Isaak, Psellos
descήbes him as having degenerated morally 127 and makes the two reigns overlap so that, by
defeπing to Constantine's reign Isaak's recovery and effΌrt to resume the throne, Psellos can fιle
415
Penelope Buckley
his active support for Constantine under loyalty to the reigning monarch. The last few reigns
are wήtten explicitly under the scrutiny of Michael Doukas, marked by authoήal anxiety to
please this emperor. Psellos sets himself up as having been a kingmaker who promoted
Michael's father's election and shielded him from danger. He wήtes an overt encomium for
Constantine Doukas, while implicitly commending his most valuable trait as an example to
the son:
δτι τοιουτος ό θαυμάσιος ουτος άνήρ ... ουτω διαφερόντως των άλλων ύπερηγάπα,
ώς έξηρτησθαί μου και της γλώττης και της ψυχης.
that this man, who was so wonderful ... loved [me] so much above the rest that he
hung upon my words and spiήt.128
From this point, the identity Psellos claims is that of indispensable and loyal counsellor, the
emperor's dearest fήend, whose rhetoήc enchanted, whose exposition of Scήpture moved,
whose presence calmed, who saved him from peήl with a word, and who was called "philo
129
sopher" in the sense he wanted. Psellos identifies himself in these ways as unconvincingly as
°
when he says he is not writing panegyήc.13 For the reader, he identifies himself as an anxious
courtier, subject to history rather than guiding it.
Α late scene with Eudokia encapsulates his real position. As her sons' tutor, Psellos is in the
classic position of an Aήstotle or a Seneca, the philosopher engaged to form the minds of
emperors to come, and he stages his last disillusionment starkly. When Eudokia tells him of her
decision to re-marry:
εφησα· «άλλα των βουλής δεομένων και σκέψεως.»... ή δέ βραχύ τι έπιγελάσασα...

εφησα «... τό δέ και πεφρόντισται και διώρισται... »... έπάγην άκούσας εύθύς- και δ
τι γενοίμην ούκ εχων, «άλλ' αύριον» εφησα «κοινωνός του πράγματος και αύτός
εσομαι;» ή δέ, «μή μοι την αύριον» πρός με εiρήκει, «άλλ' αύτίκα μοι κοινώνει της
πράξεως.»
1 said, 'Ίt needs counsel and consideration." ... But laughing lightly she said, 'Ίt has
been considered and determined." ... Heaήng, 1 immediately fi:-oze. 1 had ηο idea
what would become of me. "But tomoπow," 1 said, 'Ί too will engage with the
business myself" "Not tomoπow," she replied, "engage with the business for me
,,131
now.
It seems he is not a counsellor, not a philosopher, only a tutor with some influence over her
son. The episode is in tune with the Chrσnσgraphia as a whole, part of its pattern of possibility
and disappointment, but fi:-om that point, Psellos's extra-textual needs govern his postures.132 Ιη
short, he enacts the part Eudokia imposed οη him-that of a supporter anxious for himself
From this point, he engages in a double panegyήc, to the emperor and himself, a fantasy of a
perfect duopoly. It makes an unreal addendum to what is otherwise a history of tension be
tween philosophy and politics for which Psellos finds a huge repertoire of diagnostic identities,
moving between them with agility and defi:ness. Where the Chrσnσgraphia falters, those selves
slip fi:-om acting as a measure of imperial decline to being something closer to a symptom.
Psellos's selves are slippery and elusive. He uses opposition, antithesis, reversal, synthesis, in a
fluid literary medium. Papaioannou has found, in the courses of that fluid empathy and
changefulness, a god-like fi:-eedom to create fi:-om nothing.133 Psellos's selves are among his
oήginal creations. Of course, there are constants: he is known as rhetor, lawyer, philosopher,
416
Modes of Identity
self-appointed kingmaker, and more, and he points up aspects of these public characters to
authenticate his matter, but authenticity is in the end second to authorship, and the self known
to the public comes second to the self created for the occasion and the genre. Ιη Book VI of the
Chronographia he uses biographical mateήal to cast himself as self-made philosopher to the
empire. Ιη the Encomium on His Mother, he recasts that mateήal as psychic need: he shapes his
identity as philosopher within a network of family, and then shows that familial self straining to
hold to its mooήngs. Ιη his Funeral Oration for his Daughter Styliane, 134 he is rhetor, aesthete,
ambitious parent, pious moraliser, dialectician, proxy visionary, and natural gήeving father,
passing through these forms of self to bήng the shocking contrast of her living and her dying
body into the oneness of his daughter's spirit, which does not change. The Chronographia has
found enduήng fame by doing wonders almost unknown in Byzantine histoήes, wonders made
possible by self-projections whose play creates a bήlliant multi-dimensionality; but he has less
power over the facts than he does in his orations and less protection fi:-om the world in his own
time. He himself is entering the unknown by wήting history in this way.
Indeed, if there is one impression Psellos leaves that may outlast the rest, it is of a man who
seeks to enter ad infinitum into the unknown, which means the unknowable. The self he takes
into this project is unknowable too since it changes with the joumey. Sometimes he even teases
with his own unknowability. Ιη his letter to the Metropolitan of Chalkedon, about his offer of a
stolen icon, he gives himself a rapid seήes of identities: he writes playfully, as to a senior
churchman's fήend; declares himself a thief and a liar οη oath; boasts of his success in these roles;
makes a joke about των νέων συγκλητικών "new senators"; claims that the icons he steals are
not valuable, being unadorned; says he likes them for the art; and that in the end they scarcely
matter. 135 The letter reads as a little display of "Who do you think I am?" But only he can say
and he cannot be held to it. The initiative remains with him-we seek him here; we seek him
there. Ιη the Chronographia the text may supplement or contradict the wearer of the many coats,
but they are all Psellos and none the whole Psellos.
Attaleiates, Komnene, and Psellos all construct their histoήes within the tensions between the
empire as it might or ought to be and the empire as it was. All use figures of themselves as the
interface between these: not just by exhorting and commending but by embodying the tensions
and showing the difficulties of acting within contradictory imperatives. All project a bluepήnt for
the ideal empire and all use versions of themselves to model it under the constraints and difficulties
of the real by casting and re-casting their roles, adopting different faces or behaviours, or, in
Komnene's case, compiling layers. Ιη a similar spiήt, they cross genres to define their mixed
expeήence of a complex, changing, entity, the State. Since political memoir is among those
genres, they do, of course, argue their own cases, inflate their own importance, and attack op
ponents; but that is secondary to their lasting value. Attaleiates fi-ames an ideal of old Rome to
measure the meήts and demeήts of his own, crafung an image of himself sufficiently heroic in the
field to personify the old Roman values yet with professional expertise to judge the present. At
one end of his spectrum is the panegyήc and at the other the tragic mode. Komnene projects an
ideal emperor in a perpetual war with enemies outside the empire and within: he is mostly
winning but his victoήes are lost in time. She sees the empire as unified fi-om its familial centre
and she wήtes fi:-om that position as a unifying intelligence miπoήng Alexios's own, while her
embodied roles combine to form a shield fi-om which attacks, misunderstandings, slander, ή
cochet; yet these attacks, misunderstandings, slander, are all sharply felt in an idealising text faced
with the tragically real. Psellos is the most expeήmental with his dramatis personae, especially his
own: he portrays himself as the sole custodian of the impeήal ideal, but that custodial self is
protean, taking many forms as his attempts to teach his wisdom to successive emperors fail in a
myήad of ways. His extraordinary oήginal construction shows the history of the empire as a
417
Penelope Buckley
tragicomedy inflated by his imagination, collapsing through his failures. None of these histoήes is
imaginable without the active interventions of the histoήan's self (or selves).
The fi-eedoms Psellos creates for history-writers to shape their identities within their works,
and thus shape their works, remain astonishing. Perhaps ηο one uses them as astonishingly-or
confoundingly-as he does himself
Notes
1 Johann Thurn, ed., Ioannis Scylitzae Synopsis Historiarum, CFHB 5 (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1973).
2 SeeJenny Ferber, "Theophanes' Account of the Reign of Heraclius," ίη Byzantine Papers: Proceedings
of the First Australian Byzantine Studies Conference, Canberra 1978, ByzA 1, eds. Elizabeth and Michael
Jeffreys (Canberra: AABS, 1981), 32-42; Roger Scott, "Wήting the Reign of Justinian: Malalas
versus Theophanes," ίη The Sixth Century: End or Beginning?," ByzA 10, eds. Pauline Allen and
Elizabeth Jeffreys (Brisbane: AABS, 1996), 2(}-34, repήnted ίη Byzantine Chronicles and the Sixth
Century (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2012) ΧΙΙΙ; Roger Scott, "The Events of Every Υear, Arranged
Without Confusion: Justinian and Others ίη the Chronicle of Theophanes Confessor," ίη L'Ecriture
de Ια memoire: Ια litterarite de l'historiographie, eds. Paolo Odoήco, Panagiotis Agapitos and Martin
Hinterberger (Paήs: EHESS, 2006), 49-65, repήnted ίη Byzantine Chronicles and the Sixth Century,
ΧΙΙ; Roger Scott with John Burke and Paul Tuffin, "Kedrenos Substitution for Theophanes'
Chronicle," ίη After the Text: Byzantine Enquiries in Honour rifMargaret Mullett, eds. L. James, Ο.
Nicholson and R. Scott (London: Routledge, forthcoming).
3 For example, Roger Scott, "Text and Context ίη Byzantine Histoήography," ίη Α Companion to
Byzantium, ed. Liz James (Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2010), 25(}-62; "From Propaganda to History
to Literature: The Byzantine Stoήes of Theodosius' Apple and Marcian's Eagles ίη Byzantine
Chronicles and the Sixth Century," ίη History as Literature in Byzantium, ed. R. Macrides (Aldershot:
Ashgate, 2010), 115-31.
4 Roger Scott was perhaps the first to point it out ("The Classical Tradition ίη Byzantine
rif
Histoήography," ίη Byzantium and Ίhe Classical Tradition: University Birmingham Thirteenth Spring
Symposium rif Byzantine Studies 1979, eds. Μ. Mullett and R. Scott (Birmingham: CBSU, 1981),
61-74; αυτός Michael Psellos, "Chronographia," 6.37, ίη Michaelis Psellis Chronographia,
Millennium-Studien, 2 vols, ed. Dieter Reinsch (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2014), 122.
5 See Aleksandr Kazhdan and Giles Constable, People and Power in Byzantium (Washington, D.C.: DO,
1982), 10(}-1.
6 Bryennios makes the second motif a reason for several rebellions; Psellos uses it for Bardas Phokas's
neglect by Basil ΙΙ and Constantine IX's mistreatment of Maniakes. Attaleiates highlights the first ίη
Michael VI's childish dependence οη the wicked logothete Nikephoros but also has Michael alienate
forrner ally Rousselios and his appointee Nestor, who then rebel, while he allows his bodyguard to
attack his own soldiers when they demand their long-withheld pay.
7 Michael Attaleiates, 'Ήistoήa," ίη Michaelis Attaleiatae Historia CFHB 50, ed. Ε.Τ. Tsolakis (Athens:
Academia Atheniensis, 2011), 6-7; trans. Anthony Kaldellis and Dmitris Κrallis (from now οη Κ and
Κ), Michael Attaleiates: The History CSHB 16 (Βοηη, 2012), Preface 1.2, 8-10; Psellos, Chron. 6.22,
Reinsch, 116.
8 Anna Komnene, "Alexiad," 1.13.3, ίη Annae Comnenae Alexias, 2 vols., eds. Reinsch and Kambylis
(Berlin: de Gruyter, 2001), 1.44.
9 Stratis Papaioannou, Michael Psellos: Rhetoric and Authorship in Byzantium (Cambήdge: CUP 2013),
esp. 195-231.
10 Reinsch (a) gives an additional explanation for these ίη the Chronographia, from Psellos's practice of
dictating his works (Dieter Reinsch "Die Chronographie des Michael Psellos als Werk mίindlicher,"
unpublished conference paper) but it is also a new kind of history, ίη glaήng contrast with the Historia
Syntomos: a cursory, non-expeήmental, work ίη which the author makes his presence felt only as
author. (Michaelis Pselli Historia Syntomos, ed. and trans. W.J. Aerts [Berlin: De Gruyter, 1990]). Ι accept
the consensus that, if Psellos wrote it, he did so under the aegis of Eudoήa, Constantine Χ or Michael
VI, when his work was obviously govemed by extemal ne(eds). The work proce(eds) οη the lines of
good and bad emperors, at least to start, claims that the purpose of history is didactic, and does not reach
Psellos's own period or use self-representation, so it does not belong here. Even so, there are some
418
Modes of Identity
interesting small indications of a personal signature. Ι offer a few examples: Under Anastasios Πρόκλος
ό μέγας ηνθει φιλόσοφος, δν εγώ μετά γε Πλάτωνα τίθημι "Proklos the great philosopher flouήshed,
whom Ι myself rank after Plato" 69, 53; Stavrakios is ούτε λόγοις ώμιληκώς "unfamiliar with litera
ture" 93, 82-3; the pious Michael ούτε τα πράγματα δραστήριος ην "nor did he show much activity ίη
state affairs" 94, 84-5; Theophilos ούκ είδώς μεσότης ή δικαιοσύνη ύπερβολης <καi> έλλείψεως
"was unaware that justice preserves the happy medium between exaggeration and falling short" 97,
86-7; Leo the Philosopher's studies included the rhetoήcal art, ίη which he showed some competence,
but his literary works ού μέντοιγε κάλλη lacked beauty 100, 90-1; Alexander, Leo's brother,
"διαπαίξας τήν βασιλείαν "played at empire like a child" 101, 92-3; ofRomanos, son of Constantine:
Παιδαριώδης δέ αύτφ ή ζωή καi παντάπασιν άγνοήσαντι οίον τό της βασιλείας αξίωμα 'Ήίs way of
life was ... childish and he had ηο idea at all of the dignity of empire" 103, 95; among Nikephoros
Phokas's virtues, he always took the middle and truly impeήal course" 105, 101-2; and at Nikephoros's
murder, ή τό δραμα ποιησαμένη βασίλισσα, ωσπερ έπi σκηνης άνωλόλυζε "the empress, who had
designed the action, ... started wailing as if οη stage," 104-5.
11 Attaleiates does end his self-introduction with a secondary motive, to save events from λήθης βυθοiς
the depths of oblivion, but as an afterthought. Attaleiates, Historia: Tsolakis, 6-7; Κ and Κ, Michael
Attaleiates: The History, Preface 1.2, 8-10.
12 Attaleiates, Historia: Tsolakis, 7-8, Κ and Κ 3.1-2, 12-4.
13 Dimitήs Krallis, 'Άttaleiates as aReader of Psellos," ίη Reading Michael Psellos, eds. C. Barber and D.
Jenkins (Leiden: Brill, 2005), 167-91.
14 For example, his version of the popular uprising against Michael V does not include the women
who, ίη the Chronographia (5. 26, 1. 94) played a strong part, and he has Theodora put aside her
womanly modesty and weakness to take the throne. Attaleiates, Historia: Tsolakis, 11-3, Κ and Κ
4.6-7, 22-4. His hostility to eunuchs (Historia: Tsolakis, 30, 31, Κ and Κ 7.9, 64; 7.10, 66) resembles
that of Leo the Deacon (The History of Leo the Deacon: Byzantine Military Expansion in the Tenth
Century . Intro., trans. and annotations by Alice-Mary Talbot and Denis Sullivan with the assistance of
George Dennis and Stamatina McGrath (Washington DC: DO, 2005), 1.2, 59, Skylitzes (Epitorue of
Histories: Constantine VII, Thurn 245--6) and Bry ennios (Hyle 2.7, Gautier155). See Leonora Neville
οη the Hyle's Roman allegiance (Heroes and Roruans in Twelfth-Century Byzantiuru: Ίhe Material for
History of Nikephoros Bry ennios (Cambήdge: CUP, 2012). It may be that the Roman ideal re
constructed ίη the late eleventh and twelfth centuήes was narrower and more rigid than ίη some
earlier Byzantine peήods. See Michael Ε. Stewart, 'Έreaking Down Barriers: Eunuchs ίη Italy and
North Mήca, 400--620," ίη Byzantine Culture in Translation, eds. Α. Brown and Β. Neil, ByzA 21
(Leiden: Brill, 2017), 33-54, at 33-4, and "The Andreios Eunuch-Commander Narses: Sign of a
Decoupling of Martial Virtues and Masculinity ίη the Early Byzantine Empire?," Cerae, 2
(2015): 1-25.
15 He notes Constantine IX's establishment of the school of law, the appointment of the "Chief of
Philosophers" (he does not name Psellos but it is understood), and the bureau ίη which legal
documents were to be lodged (Historia Tsolakis 17-8, Κ and Κ, 5.5, 34-6) whereas Psellos takes all
these as read. Attaleiates mutes the histήonic and writes more openly about Michael Keroularios's
part ίη the ήsing against Michael VI and more sternly about Konstantinos Doukas, but ίη a com
parably nuanced way.
16 Attaleiates, Historia: Tsolakis, 28, Κ and Κ 7.5, 60.
20 Attaleiates, Historia: Tsolakis, 81, Κ and Κ 17.1, 188. Ι accept Kaldellis's and Κrallis's emendation
from έτύγχανον to έτύγχανεν.
21 Attaleiates, Historia: Tsolakis, 88-89, Κ and Κ 17.11, 206.
22 Attaleiates, Historia: Tsolakis, 81-2; 85, Κ and Κ 17.2, 188-90; 17.6, 196-8.
27 Attaleiates, Historia: Tsolakis, 102, Κ and Κ 18.10, 236-38.
28 Attaleiates, Historia: Tsolakis, 105--6, Κ and Κ 18.17-18, 246.
419
Penelope Buckley

35 For example, when he is praising Nikephoros Phokas's conquest of Crete, lauding him as "ancestor"
of Botaneiates: 'Ίνα δέ γνο'ίεν οί έντυγχάνοντες τοίσδε τοίς γράμμασι τί βούλεται ήμίν τό τής
εύσεβείας έγκώμιον έν τοίς στρατιωτικοίς παραγγέλμασι, προσθήσομέν τι τφ διηγήματι. 'Άηd so
that those who happen to read these lines may understand the contήbution an encomium for piety
makes to a discussion of military affairs, Ι will add the following story." Attaleiates, Historia: Tsolakis,
172, Κ and Κ 28.1, 408.
37 τό παν είς τό κέρδος του βουλεύματος καταντ�. 'Έvery deliberation was about profit." Attaleiates,
Historia: Tsolakis, 152, Κ and Κ 24.4, 358.
39 Attaleiates, Historia: Tsolakis, 188, Κ and Κ 31.3 446. The latter insert the είς.
40 Attaleiates, Historia: Tsolakis, 187-8, Κ and Κ 31. 2-3, 444-446.
43 Attaleiates, Historia: Tsolakis, 241-4, Κ and Κ 36.14--6, 574 -80.
44 Attaleiates, Diataxis: Paul Gautier, ed., "La diataxis de Michel Attaleiate," REB 39 (1981): 17-130, 1.
trans. Alice-Mary Talbot, 'Άttaleiates: Rule of Michael Attaleiates for his Almshouse in Rhaidestos and for
rif
the Monastery Christ Panoiktirmon in Constantinople," in Byzantine Monastic Foundation Documents: Α
Complete Translation of the Surviving Founders' Typika and Testaments, Vol. Ι, ed. John Thomas and
Angela Constantinides with the assistance of Giles Constable (Washington, DC: DO, 2000), 333.
45 See Stratis Papaioannou, 'Άηηa Komnene's Will," in Byzantine Religious Culture: Studies in Honor of
Alice-Mary Talbot, eds. Ε. Fisher and S. Papaioannou (Leiden: Bήll, 2012), 99-121.
46 Komnene, Alexiad, 15.11.24, R and Κ 1.505.
48 Komnene, Alexiad, Pr. 1.1, R and Κ 1.5.
49 Nikephoros Bryennios, ed. and trans., Ρ. Gautier Hyle Historiae in Nicέphore Bryennios Histoire, CFHB
9 (Brussels, 1975), Prooimion 11, 73.
50 See Leonora Neville, Heroes and Romans in Twe!fίh-Century Byzantium: Ίhe Material for History of
Nikephoros B ryennios (Cambridge: CUP, 2012), passim and 188-93.
51 Livy (Titus Livius), The History of Rome, Vol. 1, Books Ι -V, Loeb, ed. R. Μ. Ogilvie (Oxford:
Oxford Classical Texts, 1974), 1.1
52 Komnene, Alexiad, Pr. 1.2, R and Kl.5-6.
53 rif
See Leonora Neville, Anna Komnene: The Life and Work α Medieval Historian (Oxford: OUP, 2016).
"Crying Like a Woman and Writing Like a Man," Section Ι, chapter 4, 61-74, and Stratis
Papaioannou, 'Άηηa Komnene's Will."
54 Psellos, Chron., 6. 23-8, Reinsch 1.116-9; Komnene, Alexiad, Pr. 2.3, R and Kl.7.
55 Komnene, Alexiad, Pr. 3.2; 3.1, R and Kl.7.
56 Komnene, Alexiad, Pr. 3.2; 1.4.3, R and Kl.7; 1.18.
57 See James Howard-Johnston, 'Άηηa Komnene and the Alexiad," in Alexios Ι Komnenos. Papers of the
Second Belfast Byzantine International Colloquium, 14-16 April 1989 (Belfast, 1996), 260-302, refuted
in Anna Komnene and Her Times, ed. Τ. Gouma-Peterson (New York: Garland, 2000) by Ruth
Macrides ("The Pen and the Sword: Who Wrote the Alexiad?," 63-81), Dieter R. Reinsch
("Women's Literature in Byzantium? - The Case of Anna Komnene," 83-105) and by implication
by Paul Magdalino ("The Pen of the Aunt: Echoes of the Mid-Twelfth Century in the
Alexiad," 15-43).
61 rif rif
Laήsa Vilimonovic, Structure and Features Anna Komnene's Alexiad: Emergence α Personal History
(Amsterdam: AUP, 2019), 334-7.
62 Komnene, Alexiad, Pr. 4.1-2, R and Κ 9.
63 Komnene, Alexiad, Pr. 4.3, R and Κ 10.
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Modes of Identity
64 Psellos, 'Έncomium in Matrem," 4, in Michele Psello. Autobiografia: encomio per Ια madre, ed. U.
Criscuolo (Naples: 1989), 11.200-7. Repr. in TLG available online at www.tlg.uci.edu (subscription
only), Michael Psellus. (Biogr. Encom. 11). "The Most Wise and Hypertimos Psellos, Encomiumfor His
Mother," trans. Anthony Kaldellis in Mothers and Sons, Fathers and Daughters: The Byzantine Family rif
Michael Psellos, ed. and trans. Α. Kaldellis with D. Jenkins and S. Papaioannou (Notre Dame: UNDP,
2006), 51-109.
65 Komnene, Alexiad, 14.7.5-7, R and Κ 1.451-2.
67 Another point of similarity to the Preface to her Will: ούκ οίδά ποτε τόν Ιiπαντα του βίου μοι χρόνον
δν τοίς γονευσι συμβεβίωκα παρακούσασα των γονέων καi. Ιiλλο τι διαπραξαμένη παρά τό τούτων
θέλημά τε καi. βούλημα ... άλλΌύδ' έμόν τό παράπαν εσχηκε θέλημα δ <ού> κ κείνοις έδόκει ...
οϋτε παιδάριον ούσα, οϋτε μείραξ, οϋτε γυνή γεγονυία καi. παίδων μήτηρ ... ύπάρξασα· πάσαις δέ
ταίς έκ γενέσεως ήλικίας μέχρι του δεύρο τοίς τούτων έφηρμόκειν θελήμασι. Duήng the entire
time of my life that Ι spent together with my parents, Ι never disobeyed them ... Νever did Ι have any
wish, which was not also their wish ... neither as a little child, nor as an adolescent, nor when Ι
became a woman and a mother ... At every age, from my birth until now, Ι carried out their wishes."
Papaioannou, "Anna Komnene's Will," 105-06.
69 Α theme spectacularly well developed by Vilimonovic in Structure and Features of Anna Komnene's
Alexiad as a double claim to satisfy her mother's agenda as well as her own.
71 Only Alexios and Irene also receive such an ekphrasis.
74 Komnene, Alexiad, 5.9.4; 5.8.3, R and Κ 1.166; 1.162.
75 Komnene, Alexiad, 12.3.4, 12.5.2, R and Κ 1.365, 1.371.
78 Komnene, Alexiad, 12.6.6-7, R and Κ 1.375.
79 See nt. 53.
81 Komnene, Alexiad, 3.7.2, 3.7.5, R and Κ 1.103, 1.105.
82 There are ηο scenes of a childhood shared with siblings, ηο mention of her children, ηο need to
dwell οη what other people may have thought of her except when it has some relevance beyond
itself.
83 See Penelope Buckley, The Alexiad rif
Anna Komnene: Artistic Strategy in the Making rifα Myth
84 See Papaioannou, Michael Psellos.
rif
85 Anthony Kaldellis, The Argument Psellos' Chronographia (Leiden: Brill, 1999), 153, 169, 171, 175
and passim. He argues for a consistent strategy and anti-cleήcal credo revealed through carefully
placed clues, Lauritzen for a uniforrnly consistent strategy in the literary forrnation of character
(Frederick Lauritzen, The Depiction rif
Character in the Chronographia of Michael Psellos: Studies in
Byzantine History and Civilisation (Turnhout: Brepols, 2013)). The first is fascinating but unprovable,
the second a fine sketch of forrnative influences, but neither, in my opinion, matches the readerly
expeήence of the work.
rif
86 Leo the Deacon concludes his history with John Tzimiskes's death (The History Leo the Deacon:
Byzantine Military Expansion in the Tenth Century. Intro., trans. and annotations by Alice-Mary Talbot
and Denis Sullivan with the assistance of George Dennis and Stamatina McGrath. (Washington DC:
DO 2005) Book Χ, 22(}-21), and the Chronographia begins, Ό μεν ούν βασιλεύς 'Ιωάννης ό
Τζιμισκης,... οϋτω καταλύει τόν βίον. περιϊσταται δέ καθαρώς ή βασιλεία, ε'ίς τε Βασίλειον καi.
Κωνσταντίνον. "So the emperor John Tzimiskes ... lost his life and the empire clearly devolved οη
Basil and Constantine." Psellos, Chron., 1.1, Reinsch 1.1.
87 Psellos, Chron., 3.24-5, Reinsch 1.48.
88 Possibly in the imperial retinue but his guards are some distance away so that Michael is unscreened
from τοίς πολλοίς; ηο one tries to pick him up but everybody pities him. Psellos tells it from a
composite point of view. Psellos, Chron., 4.18, Reinsch 1.60.
421
Penelope Buckley
89 Papaioannou discusses at length the ferninine, inferior, character of pathos in the classical and
Byzantine traditions (Rhetoric and Authorship). l am using the term in its simple sense of "feeling" or
"suffeήng": that is the sense in which Ι think it operates in the Chronographia, where some literary
constraints apply.
90 Psellos, Chron., 5.40, Reinsch 1.101.
92 Psellos, Chron., 6.37-42, Reinsch 1.122-4.
94 Psellos, Chron., 6. 140, Reinsch 1.170.
96 Psellos, Chron., 6.190, Reinsch 1.191. Something sirnilar appears to have been tήed in the recent
USA adrninistration.
97 Psellos, Chron., 6.61, 58-59, Reinsch 1.131, 1.130.
101 ετι έπί τφ έμφ δεσπότη καί βασιλεί έπαισχύνομαι 'Ί feel shame even yet for my lord and emperor."
Psellos, Chron., 6.154, Reinsch 1.176-77.
102 Psellos, Chron., 6.210 (a7); 212 (a 9), Reinsch 1.199; 1.200.
103 Psellos, Chron., 6.210 (a 7), Reinsch 1.199.
104 Psellos, Chron., 6.221 (a 18), Reinsch 1.204.
105 Ioannis Polemis, ed., Michael Psellus Orationes funebres, vol. 1 (Biblitheca scriptorum Graecorum et
Romanorum Teubneriana (ΒΤ) [Berlin: De Gruyter, 2014]): 1-244, 34. "Funeral Oration for the Most
Blessed Patήarch Michael Keroullarios," trans. Ioannis Polernis, in Psellos and the Patriarchs: Letters and
Funeral Orations for Keroullarios, Leichoudes, and Xiphilinos, trans. Anthony Kaldellis and Ioannis
Polernis (Notre Dame: UNDP, 2015), 49-130, here 87.
106 Michael Psellus Orationesfunebres, 40, trans. Polemis 95. Stήctly speaking, more like 20 inches.
107 Michael Psellus Orationes funebres, 9; 24; 37, trans. Polernis, 60; 77; 89.
108 Michael Psellus Orationes funebres, 32, trans. Polemis, 85.
109 U. Cήscuolo, ed., Michele Psello, Epistola α Michele Cerulario [Hellenica et byzantina neapolitana
15:1973 (repr. 1990)] 21-31; 3, "Letter to the Patήarch Kyr Michael Keroullarios," trans. Anthony
Kaldellis in Psellos and the Patriarchs, 38.
110 U. Criscuolo, ed., Epistola 2, trans. Kaldellis 39.
112 U. Criscuolo, ed., Epistola 1; 2, trans. Kaldellis 38; 39.
113 U. Criscuolo, ed., Epistola 3; 26, trans. Kaldellis 41; 44-5.
118 The first-to end his quarrel with the patriarch-was prescient, if true, as the patriarch oversaw the
ending of Michael's reign.
119 The whole episode demonstrates Psellos's view that, as Kaldellis puts it, 'Όnly the philosopher can
employ rhetoήc properly." Psellos' Chronographia 129 and see 127-30 and passim.
120 Psellos, Chron., 7.26-7, Reinsch 1.218.
123 «dοκεί μοι» φησί «ώ φιλόσοφε, σφαλερόν είναι τούτο δή τό iiκρον εύτύχημα· καί μοι ούκ ο'ίδα εί τό
πέρας άπαντήσεται δεξιόν. «Φιλόσοφον» εφησα «τό ένθυμημα." "Philosopher, he said, 'this high
good fortune seems precarious to me. Ι do not know if it will come out well in the end." ... The
thought of a philosopher,' Ι answered." Psellos, Chron. 7.41, 1, Reinsch 227.
124 Psellos, Chron., 7.51, Reinsch 1.231-2.
126 Psellos, Chron., 7.81, Reinsch 1.246-7.
127 He behaved arrogantly to his brother and lacked Cato's self-control. Chron., 71; 75, Reinsch
1.320; 1.322.
128 Psellos, Chron., 7. 86, Reinsch 1.248.
422
Modes of Identity
129 Psellos, Chron., 7. 115 (a 23); 114 (a 22), Reinsch 1.260.

130 Psellos, Chron., 7. 109 (a 17), Reinsch 1.260.
131 Psellos, Chron., 7. 127 (b 6)-128 (b 7), 1, Reinsch 265.
132 He resumes the military strategist whom Romanos did not heed (7.136 (b 15) Reinsch 1.269) and
whitewashes himself andMichael VII as a package. He claims ηο part in the decision not to receive
Romanos back, claims Michael entrusted him with everything (7. 150 (b 29) Reinsch 1.275) and
exoneratesMichael from Romanos's blinding. (7. 164 (b 43) Reinsch 1.284).
133 Papaioannou, Michael Psellos, 74-87.
134 Misc. Κ.Ν. Sathas, ed., Μεσαιωνική Βιβλιοθήκη (Bibliotheca graeca Medii Aevι), vols. 4-5: Pselli mis
cellanea (Venice:Maisonneuve et Cie, 1876) "Funeral Oration for His Daughter Styliane, Who Died
Before the Age ofMarήage," trans. Kaldellis in Mothers and Sons, 118-38.
135 Eduard Kurtz and Franz Drexl, eds., Michael Psellus: Scripta minora magnam partem adhuc inedita ΙΙ,
Epistulae. Orbis romanus, biblioteca del testi medievali a cura dell' Universita cattolica del Sacro
cuore 5.2.Milan: Societa editrice "Vita e pensiero," 1941. Letter Four Τφ Χαλκηδόνος, "Letter to
theMetropolitan of Chalkedon," ed. Stratis Papaioannou, trans. Charles Barber, David J enkins and
Stratis Papaioannou, in Michael Psellos on Literature and Art: Α Byzantine Perspective on Aesthetics, eds.
C. Barber and S. Papaioannou, 374-5.
423
23
BYZANTIUM ΙΝ ΤΗΕ AMERICAN
ALT-RIGHT IMAGINATION:
ΡARADIGMS OF ΤΗΕ MEDIEVAL
GREEK ΡAST AMONG MEN'S
RIGHTS ACTIVISTS AND WHITE
SUPREMACISTS
Adam J. Goldwyn 1
Given that the founders of the United States self-consciously modelled the new country οη their
vision of democratic Classical Athens and the Roman Republic, it is perhaps ηο surpήse that
Ameήcans have frequendy evaluated their national narrative in light of these classical exempla.
From John Adams's compaήson of himself to the Athenian orator, Demosthenes in 1774 and
ThomasJefferson's lionization of the Roman Cincinnatus in 17762 to the op-ed pages of the New
York Times duήng the Iraq War, the history of the nation has often been read in parallel to the ήse
and fall of classical Greece and Rome.3 Looking to figures of the past as role models or anti-role
models has a long literary history; indeed, insofar as this sort of thinking-by-analogy is present in
Ameήca, it too is part of the country's Classical inheήtance: Malcolm Willcock's "Mythological
paradeigma in the fliad," for instance, demonstrates the ways in which the heroes of the fliad
themselves turned to an earlier generation of heroes to explain their own behaviour, as when the
aged hero Nestor, in whom such histoήcal knowledge is most fully embodied, turns to the dis
astrous consequences of Meleager's anger in trying to convince Achilles to give up his. Willcock
defines "paradigms" as "myth[s] introduced for exhortation or consolation. 'Ύou must do this,
because Χ, who was in more or less the same position as you, and a more significant person, did
it." 4 These didactic paradi gms (also called exempla or models) carry moral and persuasive force
because the results of past behaviour are histoήcally knowable, and thus contain a certain kind of
prophetic truth when applied to cuπent situations that have not yet been resolved.5
While this way of thinking is often referenced in terms of ancient Greeks and Romans,
"Founding Fathers," and other important cultural figures-indeed, it is also a core tenet of the
contemporary Chήstian practice known in Latin as Imitatio Dei/Imitatio Christi, in English as
"What WouldJesus Do?," and in popular internet speech as WWJD?6-the Byzantine Empire
has histoήcally been and remains a much less frequent source of analogous paradigms for the
United States. This is perhaps not surpήsing consideήng Ameήcans' perceived cultural proximity
424 DOI: 10.4324/9780429031373-27

American Alt-Right Imagination
to ancient Greece and Rome and their perceived distance fi:-om an empire whose culture, re
Iigion, language, political institutions, and geography were iπelevant to Ameήcan political dis
course past and present. Nevertheless, though Byzantium may not shape Ameήcan political
identity in the same way and to the same extent as these nearer antecedents, Byzantium is not
altogether absent as a source of exempla for contemporary identity politics, where it has a par
ticular, if marginal, position in the digital culture of the Ameήcan far ήght. This presence
manifests itself in the so-called "manosphere," a sub-section of the broader alt-ήght that consists
of the constellation of blogs, websites, reddit and 4chan threads, Twitter feeds, and Facebook
pages that fertilise the larger "Men's Human Rights Movement" (MHRM or, as often, Men's
Rights Activists, MRA). These digital forums in turn spawn activities in the real world: con
7
ferences, lectures, and books-and, ultimately, votes, legislation, and political office holders.
By their own self-definition, members of the manosphere define it as "a broad term applied
to a vaήety of movements involving men or focused οη men's issues. Ιη general participants in
the various movements a gree οη the problems facing men and boys but disagree οη what to do
8
about them," though their cήtics often offer less sanguine definitions. Donna Zuckerberg, for
instance, wήtes that "these online communities go by many names-the Alt-Right, the
manosphere, Men Going Their Own Way, pickup artists-and exist under the larger umbrella
of what is known as the Red Pill, a group of men connected by common resentments against
9
women, imrnigrants, people of colour, and the liberal elite." Chήsta Hodapp, another scholar
of these groups, describes the manosphere as "a group of loosely associated websites, blogs, and
forums all concerned with masculinity and men's issues, and includes input from the MRA,
10
pick-up artists, anti-ferninists, and fathers' ήghts activists."
Regardless of how the manosphere is defined, for its members, Byzantium stands as a two-fold
paradigm of the dangers of groups who do not share (some or all) aspects of their identity as white,
Chήstian, European, western, and, above all, men. First, Byzantine men (both literary and his
toήcal) serve as a cautionary paradigm for Ameήcan men because of their perceived efferninacy
and decadence, with particular emphasis placed οη the ways the expanded ήghts of women in
politics and econornics, women's increasing control over their own sexual agency, and the
concuπent subjugation of men softened the Byzantine Empire's warήor ethic. Second, because of
Byzantium's perceived position as a bulwark state protecting white, western, Chήstian Europeans
against the invading dark-skinned Muslim of the Ottoman Empire in the East, the Byzantine
Empire is also a cautionary paradigm for the contemporary United States, which in the mano
sphere is seen as the analogous contemporary country protecting and preserving western civili
zation fi:-om the external enernies massed οη its border and constandy threatening it with invasion
and conquest. Ιη the MRA worldview, since the Byzantines ultimately failed to stop the
Ottomans, they stand as a cautionary paradigm or anti-model for the ways in which decadence
and efferninacy can dilute a hypermasculine and warlike culture and thus lead to its downfall.
These influences converged in the 2016 election, which pitted Hillary Clinton, a woman who
was perceived as exemplifying the ferninine turn in Ameήcan politics, and Donald Trump, who
was perceived as offeήng a renewed vision of male strength. Αη analysis of the discourse of
Byzantine exemplaήty duήng the 2016 election and its aftermath in the manosphere demonstrates
the ways in which Byzantium was employed as a double anti-model for MRA's perception of the
United States at the intersection of gender/identity politics and military/foreign poli cy.
"Gynocracy'' ίη the Medieval West as Model for the Byzantine East

The Middle Ages play a central role in the MRA's worldview and ideology, offering both an
oήgin story for their perception of men's contemporary subjugation and a specialised
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Adam J. Goldwyn
vocabulary for conceptualising this subjugation.11 Many of the ideas suπounding medieval and
modern gender politics, moreover, are drawn fi-om MRA readings of medieval (particularly
French) romance. Ιη that the models for interpreting Byzantine literature are drawn in their
entirety from those developed for MRA interpretations of the western Middle Ages-its his
tory, its literature, its mateήal culture, and the MRA vision of its gendered power
dynamics-an understanding of the development and application ofMRA ideology to studying
the western Middle Ages is a prerequisite for understanding their conception of Byzantium.
The most detailed articulation of MRA views of theMiddle Ages can be found in the work
of Peter Wήght, whose website gynocentήsm.com exemplifies these trends of men's gender
based subjugation to women and the development of specialised pseudo-jargon for describing
it. Indeed, its tagline, "Gynocentήc culture was born in the Middle Ages with the practices of
romantic chivalry and courtly love. It continues today relatively unchanged,"12 with its Greco
Latinate title, reflects the importance of specialised pseudo-acadernic language to the foπnation
ofMRA ideology, while also providing theMiddle Ages as the moment for the ήse of this new
system of male oppression.13
Wήght's "timeline of gynocentήc culture" centres the medieval romance in this narrative of
histoήcal development. He begins by arguing that "Ρήοr to 1200 AD broadspread gynocentric
culture simply did not exist, despite evidence of isolated gynocentήc acts and events. It was only
in the Middle Ages that gynocentήsm developed cultural complexity and became a ubiquitous
enduήng cultural ηοπη." 14 Indeed, Wήght identifies 1102 as the year when "Gynocentήsm
meme first introduced," ascήbing the fault to William ΙΧ of Aquitaine, who, in addition to
wήting troubadour poetry, "part[ed] with the tradition of fighting wars strictly οη behalf of
man, king, God and country," as exemplified by his having "the image of his rnistress painted
οη his shield."15 The second entry in the timeline comes in 1152, when William's grand
daughter Eleanor of Aquitaine began to "utilise poetry and song for setting expectations of how
men should act around them, thus was born the attitude of romantic chivalry promoting the
idea that men need to devote themselves to serving the honour, puήty and dignity of
women." 16 Thus, medieval romance becomes the vehicle by which gynocentήc values were
spread. Other dates in the timeline also suggest the centrality of the medieval romance: Wήght
specifies 1180, when Maήe de Champagne directs Chretien de Troyes to wήte "a love story
about Lancelot and Guinevere elaborating the nature of gynocentήc chivalry" and the 1188
publication of Andreas Capellanus's The Art of Courtly Love as moments of particular im
portance. 17 The twelfth-century oήgins of gynocracy from within the genre of the romance is
also important for MRA use of Byzantine literature since the twelfth century saw a similar
revival of romance wήting in Constantinople.18
For Men's Rights Activists, the past is not a thing that meήts dispassionate study for its own
sake; rather, its value lies in how their interpretation of it can reveal the ways in which society
continues to empower women at the expense of men. Thus, the timeline's concluding entry,
"21st century: Gynocentήsm continues," makes explicit the connection between the deep
history of gynocentήsm and the influence of the medieval romance οη contemporary society:
The modern ferninist movement has rejected some chivalήc customs such as opening
car doors or giving up a seat οη a bus for women; however, they continue to rely οη
'the spiήt of chivalry' to attain new pήvileges for women: opening car doors has be
come opening doors into university or employment via affiπnative action; and giving
up seats οη busses has become giving up seats in boardrooms and political parties via
quotas. Despite the vaήed goals, contemporary gynocentήsm remains a project for
maintaining and increasing women's power with the assistance of chivalry.19
426
Ιη addition to giving examples of how the underlying pήnciples of medieval chivalry manifest
themselves in modern culture, Wright's conflation of feminism with the Civil Rights move
ment is also a standard tactic in MRA rhetoric. Donna Zuckerberg refers to the transference of
racial discourse to gender discourse as "the appropήative bait-and-switch" by which MRA
members "appropήate to disastrous effect a topic that is about race and the legacy of slavery and
use it to support an ideology that allows white men to restήct women's reproductive freedom
20
by limiting access to abortion and birth control." Thus, in this instance, a histoήcally in
formed reading would acknowledge that affirmative action and ending restήctions οη bus
seating were not policies rooted in gender; rather, they were policies of racial desegregation.
The language of civil ήghts is thus turned to the empowerment of MRA.
Ιη addition to providing the histoήcal foundation of Men's Rights Activism via opposition
to a ήsing gynocentήsm that has its roots in the Middle Ages, the medieval romance also
provides much of the specialised vocabulary by which Men's Rights Activists articulate con
temporary gender roles. Indeed, the redefinition and appropήation of such words is a central
part of the strategy of Men's Rights Activists; another contήbutor to gynocentήsm.com, Adam
Kostakis, argues in "Pig Latin" that "Men's Rights Advocates should not be afraid to play
around with words; to reframe debate; to recast conventional linguistic usages however we see
fit. Don't be afraid to make a game out of it. Use words-and the meanings you choose to
21
ascήbe to them-to mock, humiliate, and confuse your enemies." As part of this project,
many familiar terms from the study of the medieval romance have specialised meanings in the
context of MRA discourse.
Ιη "The Birth of Chivalήc Love," for instance, Peter Wήght defines several key terms, each
of which has its own modern parallel. "Damseling," for instance, "is a popular shorthand for
women's projection of themselves as damsels in distress. [... W]omen have been taught from
generation to generation to mimic juvenile characteήstics via the use of makeup and vocal
tonations, along with a feigning of distress typical of children-which collectively works to
22
extract utility of men." Having laid out the histoήcal roots of damseling in the Middle Ages
and in the medieval romance, Wήght applies this paradigm to contemporary politics in a post
23
entitled "Damseling, chivalry and courtly love (part two)." Arguing that damseling has "been
referred to as gήevance feminism, victim feminism, and even fainting-couch feminism,"
Wήght offers the contemporary example of Anita Sarkeesian, who urged that game designers
diversify the kinds of characters and plot arcs available to female characters in video games,
concluding that "Sarkessian's case is particularly poignant because, fi-om the many subjects she
could have highlighted to damsel herself for attention, she chose to damsel herself over the very
existence of damsels. This demonstrates that even when disavowing the medieval pageant of
damsels in distress, feminists continue to enact it even while obfuscating their complicity in the
24
tradition." Thus, the medieval archetype of the damsel in distress becomes redefined in a way
that actually gives the woman agency over the men in the medieval romance, and this then
becomes the paradigm for modern ways of consideήng gendered power dynamics.
Similarly, Wright argues that "Courtly Ladies (= Feminists). Feminists today refer to courtly
25
ladies of the late Middle Ages as the first feminists." Having redefined a commonly under
stood medieval concept with a counteήntuitive new definition, Wήght then goes οη to make
the connection between medieval and modern: "Not surpήsingly this was the time [12th to
14th centuήes] when powerful women were able to establish the female-headed "courts of
love" which acted in a comparable way to today's Family Courts in that both arbitrated disputes
26
between couples." The family court, as an institution in which women's parental ήghts and
bodily and economic autonomy are sometimes guaranteed by the force of the state, is a frequent
target of Men's Rights Activism. Parallel to the concept of the Courtly Lady as feminist is the
427
Adam J. Goldwyn
Troubadour, further subdivided into Troubadour Ι and Troubadour ΙΙ. Troubadour Ι is a

"PUA [pick-up artist] and Game promoter [ ... whose] job was to spread the word about the
virtues of chivalήc love through music, song, poetry, and storytelling."27 MRAs oppose this
type of troubadour because, even though their behaviour is insincere in that they only perform
chivalry as a way to "gain sex," they nevertheless support the intellectual underpinnings of
chivalry and thus gynocentrism.28 Troubadour ΙΙ is defined as "Protofeminist Men
Sometimes derogatoήly named 'manginas'. Troubadour ΙΙ is a sincere believer in chivalric love,
unlike Troubadour Ι, who uses the rhetoήc of chivalry only to advance his own ends. Thus,
where Troubadour Ι and Troubadour ΙΙ have the same function in supporting chivalry,
Troubadour ΙΙ is a figure of greater scorn insofar as he voluntarily submits to this system:
"Think of today's version being the typical protofeminist men who work slavishly to pass οη
the message of their feminist superiors, much as these troubadours slaved to advocate the
29
narcissistic idiosyncrasies of their Ladies."
None of these figures is the subject of as much deήsion as the "White Knight," whom
Wήght defines as "such heroic individuals, men who are gallant in so many ways, but mostly
the wrong ways such as showing-off to undeserving women and concomitantly delighting in
competing with and hurting other men."30 Wright exemplifies this concept by compaήng the
'Έnterprise of the Green Shield with the White Lady ... a chivalric order founded by Jean le
Maingre and twelve knights in 1399 committing themselves to the protection of women" with
the contemporary "White Ribbon Campaign in which male 'ambassadors' pledge an oath to all
of womanhood to never condone, excuse or remain silent about violence against women, and
to intervene and take action against any man accused of wrongdoing against a woman." 31
Wήght here suggests that men who willingly submit to women are foolish and contemptible:
these men abandon their own agency, believe all women who claim they have been the subject
of violence, and, as importantly, pledge to fight other men.Such groups thus endanger men's
ήghts both by subordinating men to women and by acting violently against other me. This is
particularly wrongheaded in that MRA ideology suggests that it is in fact men, not women,
who are the object of gender-based violence and that men should never do harm to other men
for the sake of women. From this, Wήght again suggests the continuity between medieval and
modern ideas of gynocracy: "The similaήties in these gallant missions make clear that the
lineage of white knights has progressed searnlessly into the modern era."32 Taken together,
these (and the many other instances of medieval redefinition) create a shared in-group idiolect
that allows men to analyse both literary texts and contemporary behaviour.
The Medieval Greek Romance and the Manosphere

Donna Zuckerberg has written extensively about MRA writers' obsession with the Classical
past; where pickup artists and other members of the so-called seduction community celebrate
Ovid's Metamorphoses for their perception of his insights into issues of consent and coercion,
many MRA members celebrate Marcus Aurelius and other ancient advocates ofStoicism. Their
opposition to medieval romance stems in large part from what they see as its role in bήnging
about the shift between an ancient world of masculine virtues such as restraint and reason and
the medieval (and, by extension, modern) effeminate world of sentiment and emotion. This
transition also allowed women to take power (gynocracy), which, in their perception of history,
has resulted in the shift from male power in antiquity to men's subjugation in the post-medieval
peήod.
The medieval romance, in laying down the rules of chivalry (and, by extension, gynocracy)
is anathema to their worldview and must be overturned. What drives these men, therefore, is
428
not just resentment about a world that they perceive is unjust and oppressive towards them, but
also the allure of a hero naπative by which they, through their own masculinity, can remake the
world as they would like it to be--as they perceived it was in antiquity. The heroes of the
medieval romance, therefore, serve as models of men who were unjustly victimised by
gynocracy, men who should have been heroes but failed.
Α central figure in this attempt to re-interpret the medieval romance as demonstrating
paradigms of gynocracy with contemporary parallels is Douglas Galbi, whose blog purple
motes.net features dozens of articles that read the medieval Greek romance as a mirror for
articulating the subjugation of men by women in the present (gynocracy) and the failure of the
33
heroes of romance to resist these oppressive forces. Galbi, who has a BS fi-om Pήnceton, an
ΜΑ from Oxford, a PhD from ΜΙΤ, and has held research positions at Cambήdge and Harvard
serves an essential function in the manosphere. His detailed footnotes and long bibliographies
referencing recent scholarship and major scholars offers credentialed academic weight to larger
misogynist and other illiberal movements. His posts then feed into significantly more prominent
forums οη the internet and elsewhere-all the while remaining largely invisible to the aca
demics upon whose work he ostensibly relies. Traditional academic work is often hidden
behind subscήption-only paywalls or wήtten in the jargony language of the academy; Galbi's
(and his fellow travellers') posts, by contrast, are freely and widely available οη the internet and
wήtten in a plain and easily accessible style. It is almost certain, therefore, that their works have
a larger audience than all but the most successful of their scholarly sources. Thus, the mano
sphere operates in a sort of parasitic shadow academy-complete with its own parallel wiki, the
34
wiki4men, and wήters like Galbi deήve prestige from his proximity to the university system
and authority fi-om his familiarity with its approved scholarly forums.
For Galbi, the Byzantine romance offers both cautionary and hortatory paradigms for
contemporary behaviour, with the authors either using the genre to cήtique the gynocratic
system or showing men who succumb to it. Take, for instance, his series of posts οη a Byzantine
35
romance of the first half of the fourteenth century, Kallimachos and Chrysorroi. Ιη "damsel
instructed hero οη how to slay dragon," Galbi describes the scene in which a captive Chrysoπoi
tells her rescuer and future-beloved Kallimachos what he must do to slay the dragon and thus
36
free her. Galbi objects to this instance of gynocracy in which a captive woman gives in
struction to a powerful man, connecting this paradoxical meekness to contemporary social
structures: 'Άη enduήng structure of gender oppression is requiήng men to take out the trash,
as if men as a gender are essentially connected to trash. Kallimachos lacked meninist con
37
sciousness. He thus followed the lady's orders without a word of protest." Had Kallimachos
been more aware of the teaching of MRA ideas, he would not have submitted, and in this, he
seems to suggest, Kallimachos is a cautionary tale for today's men who do basic household
chores typically left for women. Indeed, the piece concludes with a subtle nod to the anti-white
knighting stance common among MRAs and, since the paradigm is intended to be cautionary, a
lesson for how to avoid these sorts of situations in the future: "Men as a gender should not be
assumed to have exclusive responsibility to slay dragons. The most dangerous dragons today are
cultural. Women and men can best slay these dragons by recovering a sense of humour and
being brave enough to laugh."
Galbi's MRA deconstruction of Kallimachos continues in another post, "Chrysoπoi de
scribed Kallimachos as deserving her love because of his labours," in which he argues that, while
women are loved for their beauty and simply being who they are, "men aren't naturally
38
credited with being virtuous. Men must perform acts according to socially sanctioned cήteria
to be credited with virtue," which, in the case of Kallimachos, results in an inversion of the
sexual power dynamic that Galbi and other MRAs prefer: "While Kallimachos earned the right
429
Adam J. Goldwyn
to love Chyrsorroi, she wasn't given to hirn as property that he acquired through labour. The
Κing gave Kallirnachos to Chrysoπoi as if he were property." Galbi does not object to a systern
whereby one person is given to another as property; he objects to the systern whereby a rnan
(who he deerns to have earned his chosen wornan's love) is given to a wornan.
MRAs under gynocracy believe in two possible solutions. First, sorne ascήbe to the so-called
"rnen going their own way" (MGTOW) rnovernent, by which rnen withdraw frorn society
altogether,39 or, second, engage with the pick-up artist (PUA)/seduction cornrnunity, which
they believe offers a sociological and evolutionary biological foundation for increasing one's sex
appeal. Galbi sees Kallimachos and Chrysorrhoi from the perspective of an MRA who wants to
overturn gynocracy, but his cήtique of an anonyrnous rornance of the rnid-thirteenth century,
Livistros and Rhodamne, offers a cήtique frorn the perspective of MGTOWs and PUAs.40 Ιη
"Livistros and Rhodamne shows rnen under despotic Eros in Byzantiurn," he descήbes the ro
rnance as "the story of a MGTOW" because it features a happily single rnan who, struck by
Eros's aπow, falls in love with a wornan.41 He then analyses Livistros' atternpts to seduce
Rhodarnne according to the rnethods of PUAs and finds hirn sorely lacking: "Modern rnaster
teachers of love would probably grade Livistros' love letters as rneήting an ornega grade for
seductive savvy" 42 and again later "Is there any question about what would be rnost wornen's
reaction to this? Pathetic. Cringe-worthy. Ridicule hirn to your girlfήends. Livistros wrote like
this daily for six rnonths without a reply. That shows as litde ernpirical sense as believing that
"violence against wornen is the rnost pressing hurnan ήghts problern rernaining in the world."
At least Rhodarnne didn't declare that she feared that Livistros was stalking her and have a
restraining order irnposed οη hirn." Thus, Galbi suggests the rornance is a self-conscious cή
tique of the systern of gynocracy which purposely shows the pitfalls of gynocracy. As with
Galbi's denial of the significance of violence against wornen (since a central tenet of the
rnanosphere is that wornen's violence against rnen is the central issue under gynocracy),43 his
rernark that Livistros didn't get a restraining order-a conternporary legal practice that MRAs
see as another exarnple of punitive gynocracy-the spectre of conternporary rnen's victirni
zation appears again and again. When, for instance, Livistros kills an old witch who threatens
thern, Galbi notes that "fortunately Livistros was not aπested and did not becorne another rnan
in the vasdy disproportionate incarceration of rnen." The trials and tήbulations of the rnen of
the Byzantine rornance thus becorne cautionary paradi grns for conternporary rnen, since, in his
view, both suffer in gynocentήc societies.
Indeed, Galbi's posts offer the Byzantine rornance as an allegory for all sorts of affiictions
rnen suffer under gynocracy, and in doing so reverse-engineer the language of the ferninist
rnovernent to support a rnirror-opposite worldview. Ιη his analysis of Eurnathios
Makrernbolites's novel Hysmine and Hysminias, dated to the rniddle of the twelfth century,44 for
instance, he descήbes how Hysrnine's seduction of Hysrninias at the banquet table offers a
rnedieval Greek exarnple of the conternporary concept of sexual harassrnent:
Men suffer frorn rnany foπns of sexual harassrnent. Sexual harassrnent of rnen usually
doesn't involve raping a rnan. Wornen in positions of authoήty sornetirnes pressure
subordinates for sex and sornetirnes respond with false accusations of rape if they are
refused. But sexual harassrnent of rnen, like sexual harassrnent generally, is today
understood to cover a rnuch broader range of behaviour. Wornen who wear tight
pants in places where rnen rnight inadvertendy see thern cornrnit sexual harassrnent
under today's standards. Wornen who expose breast cleavage that rnen rnight inad
vertendy see sexually harass rnen under today's standards.45
430
Thus, Galbi sees in Hysmine and Hysminias a medieval text that offers clear didactic parallels for
contemporary society: for him, men-not women-are the victims of sexual harassment;
men-not women-pressure subordinates for sex. Galbi also attempts to undermine the
feminist notion that men are responsible for restraining their sexual appetites rather than po
licing women's clothing. Ιη another post, Galbi returns to the same theme: "Men's nightmares
of being persecuted merely for consensually loving a woman are tragically rooted in reality.The
twelfth-century Byzantine novel Hysmine and Hysminias resonates with poignant relevance to
men today." 46
Galbi reiterates the didactic function ofByzantine literature for men throughout his blog, as
evidenced fi-om the title of two posts about the romances. One, entitled "Byzantine literature
can help men overcome romantic simplicity" concludes that 'Ίncreased public support for
study ofByzantine literature such as Hysmine and Hysminias could help men to overcome their
47
romantic simplicity, " while another, "Chaήkles redeemed Byzantine novel from romantic
simplicity" concludes " Study of Drosilla andChaήkles and otherByzantine literature can help
men and women along the complicated path to more humane and joyful lives." 48The specific
cήtique here draws fi-om the PUA notion that men are simple and direct in matters of love, but
that women need to make it complicated, a notion Galbi summaήses succinctly at the top of the
post, writing that " when in love with a woman, most men in their puήty and innocence simply
want to have sex with her."49 Beyond the limited parameters of this cήtique, however, Galbi
reaffirms the notion that Byzantine literature has a didactic function for the modern MRA.
The Manosphere, the Alt-Right, and the Paradigmatic Politics of Byzantine

Effeminacy
It would be nearly impossible to collate, much less discuss in any meaningful sense, the attempts
by journalists, scholars, pundits, politicians, and others to find meaningful histoήcal parallels
with Donald Trump's victory in the 2016 election and to offer didactic examples he and the
nation could learn fi-om Byzantium.These paradigms reflect a few unspoken assumptions, the
most influential of which is that (because?) America is at its peak, it is also at the most dangerous
moment in its history, where decisions made now could lead to continued greatness or slow
decay. Given this framing, it seems to follow that the most fi-equent comparison is between
Donald Trump and Emperor Justinian.50
The conservative Washington Post op-ed columnist (and former George W. Bush chief
speechwήter) Michael Gerson, for instance, writes:
There not being nearly enough discussion of chaήot racing in U.S. politics, it is worth
recalling the story of the Greens and theBlues.These were the two main racing teams
of the Byzantine Empire, and they generated considerable sporting enthusiasm. Α
clash of their fans in the ήots of the year 501 took perhaps 3,000 lives. According to
the judgment of many historians, these teams did not oήginally have political defi
nitions.Blues, it seems, hated Greens mainly because they persisted in being Greens,
and vice versa.But over time, the teams became identified with politicians and re
ligious movements. [ ...] When it appeared that both powerful teams were uniting to
overthrow Emperor Justinian, he blocked the exits at the Hippodrome and had his
troops slaughter perhaps 30,000 fans.51
Thus, having laid out the histoήcal model, Gerson moves οη to its didactic function for un
derstanding contemporary politics: "This is hardly a constructive model for dealing with
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Adam J. Goldwyn
excessive factionalism. But the example points to the danger of viewing politics as a team sport.
Citizens can engage in civil discourse and productive compromise. Rabid fans can be appeased
only by victory." Thus, Gerson attempts to draw out lessons about the dangers of factionalism
and the ήsks of the civil war by looking to the reign of Justinian as a model.
CBS columnist Ron Insana also looks toJustinian as a didactic paradigm for Donald Trump.
Ιη an article wήtten οη 4 May 2016, as Trump was well οη his way to securing the Republican
nomination, Insana wrote of "Trump's misguided message fi-om more than a thousand years
ago," namely that the Byzantine Emperor Justinian 1 "made it his goal to restore the Roman
Empire to its former glory. He spent much time and many resources to achieve that end.
Justinian was successful at recaptuήng the empire's lost teπitory, but never fully regained its lost
glory. Some historians have suggested that Justinian's land grab actually hastened the final
decline of what was once the Western Roman Empire, which, after his death, was re
conquered by the very people Justinian drove out. This took place in the sixth century, but it
seems to be playing out all over again, more than 1,000 years later, with Donald Trump." 52
Having laid out the histoήcal parallel that undergirds the paradigm (i.e., that Justinian had a
backward-looking message, and it resulted in the empire's fall, and Trump too has a backward
looking message), Insana makes the connection explicit: "Restoring greatness has always been a
fool's eπand, as Justinian, and many other rulers have often discovered. Trump should learn
from the mistakes ofJustinian and others who have gone before him." This piece also functions
as an example of the ways in which ideas migrate fi-om fήnge news sources to the mainstream
and vice-versa. The day after the piece was posted to CBS, it was reposted οη Newsmax.com, a
conservative news site owned by Chήstopher Ruddy, a major donor of the Republican party
and its candidates and, moreover, a close fήend of Donald Trump.
Another conservative commentator, F.H. Buckley, also looked to Justinian as a model for
Donald Trump, this time as concerns economic management; in the opening sentence of his
column of 19 Apήl 2018, "The 'Swamp' Needs aJustinian;Judges lack the expertise to review
regulations. The sixth-century Roman emperor had a better idea," he lays out the problem:
"When Donald Trump promised during the campaign to drain the 'swamp', he was talking
about the regulatory state - the morass of regulations and rulings by the administrative agencies
that almost constitute a fourth branch of government."53 Buckley thus identifies government
over-regulation as the contemporary problem that needs solving. He then identifies the ex
emplum fi-om Byzantine history: "Mr. Trump has said that he thinks 70% of the 'swamp' can be
eliminated. It isn't an impossibility. Ιη 527, the Eastern Roman Emperor Justinian looked at the
bloated state of the law and decided something had to be done. He appointed what today we'd
call a law-reform commission to restate all the laws. Justinian's commission discarded rules that
were inefficient, obsolete, repetitive, and confusingly overlapping, producing a much shorter
new digest. Laws not selected for the digest were declared invalid and were not thereafter to be
cited in the courts." 54 And, finally, having proposed the ancient parallel, Buckley concludes by
making the lesson explicit: "Today we need anotherJustinian to sweep away a welter of rules so
extensive and mind-numbingly detailed that ηο one can keep up with them. Α modern
regulatory-reform commission should be put to work." 55
Thus, the idea of Byzantium as a source of didactic paradigms is given credence by centre
ήght wήters in mainstream media publications. The alt-ήght, however, takes this paradigm and,
instead of focusing οη economic or other kinds of political issues, centres identity politics
through the pήsms of race and gender. Just as individuals like Galbi and Wright are part of the
larger men's ήghts movement, both men's rights activism and the manosphere itself exist within
an even larger ήght-wing ecosystem operating at the intersections of misogyny, homophobia,
xenophobia, racism, and other illiberal and patήarchal (as it is typically understood, not in the
432
sense in which MRAs redefine it) ideologies. Take, for example, an editoήal by an anonymous
wήter who uses the name Maxx οη Α Vσice fσr Men-the same site οη which Galbi and Wright
publish-from March 2016. Entitled "Why Should We Fight?," the piece is an implicit de
monstration of the dangers of white knighting:
Ιη the wake of the wave of alleged sex attacks perpetrated οη white western women
by members of immigrant Muslim gangs across Germany duήng ΝΥΕ celebrations,
white western males are once again being called (and shamed) into action. It's οη 'us'
apparently to defend Όur' women from the unwanted attention of these unwashed
savages. Or so the mainstream gynocentήc (suddenly conservative-led) narrative goes,
anyw ay. [ ...] Ι will not risk my life for the (distant) prospect of a BJ by fighting to
'prove myself ' to women Ι met five seconds ago in a bar. Fuck that. Ι will not ήsk my
life for female approval or a pat οη the back or because anyone is gonna try to shame
me for not wanting to dive into mortal combat with a 16-man Syήan gang in defense
of some club rat skank Ι don't know and have never met and who's drank so much
that her eyes are pointing in different directions and she's walking in zig-zags.56
This is the typical MRA idea that men should not defend women. More than this, however,
the editoήal manages to conjoin misogynistic fears of women's sexual liberation with xeno
phobic fears of the eastern, dark-skinned, non-Christian, immigrant other. Implicit in this
cήtique is the idea of the failure of an imaginary "west," complete with "western white males,"
to keep out undifferentiated Muslims ("16-man Syήan gang") who are a threat to 'Όur" "white
western women." The sexual consequences of failing to prevent immigration from the east
results in wide-spread sexual violence and threatens white men. Though the wήter never
explicitly mentions Byzantium, this is the logic of the paradigm of Byzantium as a buffer-state.
Indeed, the article is accompanied by an image of armoured knights engaged in combat with
swords, thus implicitly invoking the idea of the Crusades and the clash of civilizations in the
Middle Ages.
This intersection, however, is given the patina of histoήcal veracity through the use of
Byzantine parallels in an article from another men's ήghts website, Return σf Kings, the main
platform for Daryush "Roosh" Valizadeh, one of the most famous figures in the manosphere.
Valizadeh's websites and books made him one of the most important and public faces of the
seduction community (PUA). Indeed, Newsweek ran an article in October of 2016 entitled
"Roosh V's Journey From Pickup Artist to Right-Wing Provocateur," which documented his
embrace of the alt-right (though in a contingent way, since Valizadeh's father is an Iranian
Muslim, and is therefore loathed by many-but significantly not all-white nationalists, who
oppose inteπacial sex and have a particular fear of white women being seduced by black or
brown men).57
Return rif Kings posted an article οη 7 September 2016 with the title "Byzantium Emperor
Justinian Shows How 'Gender Equality' Leads Το Decadence & Mass Slaughter."58 The au
thor, who uses the pseudonym Amasa Lyman (an early Mormon leader) begins: 'Έmperor
Justinian Ι fought fiercely to restore Rome's former glory. But in 532 AD, he rounded up and
slaughtered 30,000 of his own Byzantine citizens. How could such a strong and accomplished
ruler commit such an atrocity?"59 The answer, of course, is his wife, Empress Theodora, and, in
particular, her sexuality unrestrained by patriarchal control: "Theodora's parents got her in
volved in popular entertainment as a child, like a Hollywood celebrity today. As a popular
actress, her mother got Theodora the position of suppliant at the hippodrome. Then, as we
often see with daughters of celebrities today, Theodora turned to a life of stήpping and became
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Adam J. Goldwyn
a prostitute at a very young age." Lyman elaborates οη Theodora's sexuality as the cause of
Justinian's bad policies in subheadings entitled 'Άdulterous Women Ruin Men" and "Gender
Equality Leads to Genocide." The imagery that accompanies this supposedly histoήcal analysis
conflates the destructive power of Theodora's sexuality with pro-gay marήage flags, making an
implicit argument that homosexuality leads to social chaos and consistently reinforcing the
ostensible parallels between the medieval and the modern.
Ιη the concluding section, this conflation becomes explicit: "This speaks to the policy of
gender equality to made [sic] Theodora the most influential empress in Roman/Byzantine
history. Feminists make mighty promises and say that it is the only fair and compassionate
policy. But the second they gain power, they only care about accumulating more power for
themselves. Who does this descήbe today? Hillary Clinton is today's Theodora. From Benghazi
to Whitewater, she leaves a long trail of blood. [ ... ] Byzantium's quick decline after Justinian
can arguably be considered the result of Theodora. What will happen if Hillary Clinton be
comes the leader of the United States? How high will the body count be?" Byzantine history
becomes contemporary political electioneeήng.
Returnojkings.com was shut down οη 1 October 2018 after boycotts and other fonns of
pressure led to PayPal, YouTube, Amazon, and other media de-platfonning the site. 60 Shortly
thereafter, Valizadeh himself recanted his previous positions and became a stήct adherent of the
Annenian Orthodox Church in March of 2019. Nevertheless, the Alt-Right's connection to
Byzantium has continued. Ιη particular, Jason Kessler, an organiser of the Unite the Right rally
in Charlottesville οη 12 August 2018 and advocate of other alt-ήght and white supremacist
groups, started a new group called "The New Byzantium." Ιη his post 'Άnnouncing the New
Byzantium Project" of 24 September 2017 (with the subtitle "Protect the West," he wήtes
'Ί'm proud to announce the fonnation of the New Byzantium, a premier organization for pro
white advocacy in the 21st century. New Byzantium acknowledges the decline of Western
Civilization in both the United States and Europe and looks to the history of Ancient Rome for
inspiration. Particularly the Eastern (Byzantine) Empire which continued for nearly 1,000 years
after Rome fell in the West. We aim to create a foundation by which the European heήtage of
the Western world may survive the inevitable collapse of the American Empire."61 Ιη this
instance, the Byzantine Empire serves as a paradigm for a possible Ameήcan future. America
now may be Rome, but after "the inevitable collapse," the Byzantine Empire will serve as a
model for an empire post-fall, and, in Kessler's view, that empire must be white ("We are
supportive of pan-European interests but place a premium οη local cultures ethnically
descended fi-om our nation's founding stock"), thus demonstrating the shared rhetoήc between
the post οη the ostensibly MRA website returnofkings and the alt-right/white nationalist
movement.
Though Kessler's New Byzantium Project does not have much of a web presence, America
as the New Byzantium is the main theme of the website www.New-Byzantium.org, which also
shares a ήght-wing and ethno-supremacist view.62 The website for the New Byzantium Project
makes the connection between Byzantium and the US explicit in its main tide: "NEW
BYZANTIUM is the Ameήcas: Ultimate Hespeήa," beneath which is printed the motto
which authoήses the idea of Byzantium as a buffer state: "Western thought still remains in the
foreground of human progress in the battle against obstructionism and cultural regression."63
The connection of the New Byzantium Project to contemporary ήght-wing politics is made οη
the website's "pήnciples" page: it opposes government-run health care and demands support
for the ήght-wing talk host Mark Levin.64
The website, the project of Mark Athanasios Constantine Karras, a Greek-immigrant born
in 1927 and the son and grandson of Orthodox pήests,65 is largely devoted to the idea of
434
Byzantium as a buffer state, with the US as the new inheήtor of that role. Kaπas traces the
histoήcal development of that parallel nearly to the nation's founding:
The role ofAMERICA [as NEW BYZANTIUM] in defense of the Western World
against the lawless factions of the Islamic World dates back to 1784 under the lea
dership, continuous initiatives, and foresight of Thomas Jefferson. Not only by dip
lomatic means but also through the bravery of the Ameήcan military and naval action
did the scourge of piracy and extortion at last come under control. The same as today,
not all European countήes contήbuted enthusiastically if at all to the effort and sa
crifice needed. Therefore, the leadership and actual application of decisive force fell
οη Ameήcan hands: the same as it does today.66
Again, the parallels between America and Byzantium are rooted in Byzantium's perceived role
as a buffer state, protecting the "Western World" fi-om the 'Ίslamic World," a clash of civi
lizations naπative that posits impermeable boundaries and significant stakes for the future of the
country and the world. Indeed, to render the visual consequences of the stakes, Karras posits a
hypothetical future if the lessons of the paradigm are not properly grasped and applied. Karras
shows an image of Hagia Sophia, the central church of the Byzantine Empire which was
converted into a mosque upon the Ottoman conquest ofConstantinople, both as it stands now,
with four minarets, and "the proper status of Hagia Sophia in Constantinople" beneath an
image of the building without the minarets. More ominously, these two images are juxtaposed
against an image of the US Capitol Building with the four minarets of the Hagia Sophia
superimposed οη its corners, thus suggesting the potential fall of the US, likeConstantinople, to
Muslim. Beneath these images is the question, in all caps: "WHO HAS ΤΗΕ COURAGE?"67
Conclusion
The manosphere deserves to be taken seriously for a vaήety of political and intellectual reasons.
At the political level, the ideas of the manosphere, the MRA, and the alt-ήght have significant
purchase at many levels of local, state, and the federal government. While neither Byzantium
nor the Middle Ages are the pήmary focus of their political agenda nor the pήmary source of
their rhetorical or persuasive power, the ideas about the Middle Ages that propagate the
manosphere are representative of their worldview. The injustice of family courts, sexual har
assment, women's sexuality, false rape allegations, and other concerns reflected in the para
digmatic use of Byzantine literature are the focus of significant concerns in contemporary
political discourse around gender. At the level of foreign policy, cuπent immigration and
military/foreign policy resides around ideas of racial and religious difference that stem from the
notion of the clash of civilizations between west and east-and in public debates about the role
of the United States in world affairs, the idea of the protector of the west or of a buffer state has
deep purchase. Byzantine paradigms thus offer one naπow window through which these
broader trends can be seen.
Second, fi-om a more theoretical or disciplinary level, what MRA wήters who appeal to the
medieval past are doing is new in terms of creating a specifically masculinist reading of medieval
literature, history, and culture-and thus deserves study as a new branch of medieval reception
studies at the intersections of race, gender, politics, and the digital humanities. Ιη another
respect, however, what these writers are doing is not new at all. The use of paradigms is as old as
literature itself; the "miπor for princes" genre has been a significant spur to literary activity
since antiquity and was a prominent feature of medieval literature as well. Read in this context,
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Adam J. Goldwyn
MRA wήters are not doing something new, but participating in a long tradition of paradig
matic use of the past that is as old as the Homeήc epics themselves and will surely continue into
the future-whatever that may look like.
Notes
1 Α version of this piece oήginally published οη Eidolon.com as "The Byzantine Workings of the
Manosphere," June 11, 2018, accessed Apήl 12, 2020, https://eidolon.pub/the-byzantine-workings
of-the-manosphere-37db3be9e661. Ι would like to thank Donna Zuckerberg for her initial support
and Sarah Scullin for her edits and suggestions to the initial piece.
2 Carl Richard, Ίhe Founders and the Classics: Greece, Rome, and the American Enlightenment (Cambridge,
ΜΑ: HUP 1995), 55.
3 Adam Goldwyn, 'Άchaians, Athenians and Ameήcans: Comparing Empires in The New York Times in
the Post-9/11 Era," in The Trojan Wars and the Making of the Modern World, ed. Α. Goldwyn (Uppsala:
Studia Graeca Upsaliensia, 2015), 245-58.
4 Malcolm Willcock, "Mythological Paradeigma in the Iliad," CQ 14.2 (1964): 141-54, at 142.
5 Ι discuss the use of Homeric paradigms and their didactic function at length in Adam Goldwyn, "That
Men to Come Shall Κηοw oflt," in Α. Goldwyn, ed., 1-15, 3-7.
6 Daniel Shore, "WWJD? The Genealogy of a Syntactic Form," Critical Inquiry 37.1 (2010): 1-25.
7 Republican New Hampshire State Representative Robert Fisher resigned in 2017 after it was revealed
that he was the founder of the MRA subreddit /r/TheRedPill, where, under the alias pk_atheist, he
had posted justifications for rape and other misogynistic content. For which, see Ella Nilsen, "Red Pill
Founder Fisher Resigns from House Arnid Calls for Perjury Investigation," Concord Monitor, May
17, 2017, accessed August 20, 2019, https://www.concordmonitor.com/legislative-adrninistration
comrnittee-makes-decisions-in-cases-of-state-reps-frost-and-fisher-1Ο 1Ο1934.
8 "Manosphere" in wiki4men.com. Accessed August 20, 2019, wiki4men.com/wiki/manosphere
9 Donna Zuckerberg, Not All Dead White Men: Classics and Misogyny in the Digital Age (Cambridge, ΜΑ:
HUP, 2018), 1.
10 Chήsta Hodapp, Men's Rights, Gender, and Social Media (Lanham: Lexington Books, 2017), xv.
11 See, e.g., Nikhil Sonnad and Tim Squirrell, "The Alt-Right Is Creating Its Own Dialect. Here's the
Dictionary," Quartz, October 30, 2017, accessed August 20, 2019, https://qz.com/1092037/the-alt
right-is-creating-its-own-dialect-heres-a-complete-guide/.
12 "Gynocentήsm and its Cultural Origins," accessed August 20, 2019, www.gynocentήsm.com/.
13 Zuckerberg notes that the "misuse of the language of scholarly interpretation" is also a key feature of
MRA rhetoric (Dead White Men, 43).
14 Peter Wήght, "Timeline of Gynocentήc Culture," October 11, 2013, accessed August 20, 2019,
https://gynocentήsm.com/2013/10/11/timeline-of-gynocentήc-culture/. As a demonstration of the
way that these ideas rni grate around the manosphere, this timeline was also posted to avoice
forrnen.com, perhaps the main MRA site, accessed August 20, 2019, https://www.avoiceforrnen.
com/gynocentήsm/timeline-of-gynocentric-culture/.
15 For the significance of the figure of the troubadour to MRA thought, see below.
16 Wήght, "Timeline of Gynocentήc Culture."
17 Wήght, "Timeline of Gynocentήc Culture," also suggests, without any evidence, that "Chretien de
Troyes abandoned this project before it was completed because he objected to the implicit approval of
the adulterous affair between Lancelot and Guinevere that Marie had directed him to wήte."
18 Though the contextual nuances of the ήse of romance writing and the classification of various texts
within the Byzantine revival are subjects of much debate, the broad contours of the field as outlined in
seminal work οη the subject, Rodeήck Beaton's Ίhe Medieval Greek Romance (Cambridge: CUP,
1989), remain largely intact. The revival is broken down into rougWy two peήods: those of the twelfth
century produced under the Komnenian dynasty in the twelfth century and hence called the
Komnenian novels and those published under the Palaiologan dynasty from the thirteenth to fifteenth
centuries. For translations of the three extant Komnenian novels, see Elizabeth Jeffreys, Four Byzantine
Novels: Theodore Prodromos, Rhodanthe and Dosikles; Eumathios Makrembolites, Hysrnine and
Hysminias; Constantine Manasses, Aήstandros and Kallithea; Niketas Eugenianos, Drosilla and Chaήkles
(Liverpool: Liverpool UP, 2012). For translations of three of the Palaiologan romances, see Gavin
Betts, Three Byzantine Novels (London: Roudedge, 2019) and, more recendy, Kostas Yiavis, Imperios
436
and Margarona: Rhyrned Version (Athens: Cultural Foundation of the National Bank of Greece, 2019).
For a recent scholarly overview of the Palaiologan romances, see Adam Goldwyn and Ingela Nilsson,
eds., Reading the Late Byzantine Rornance: Α Handbook (Cambridge: CUP, 2019).
19 For Zuckerberg's broader analysis of this as it relates to the appropήation of race, gender, and classical
literature, see Zuckerberg, Dead White Men, 42.
20 Zuckerberg, Dead White Men, 41.
21 Adam Kostakis, "Pig Latin," May 24, 2014, accessed August 20, 2010, https://gynocentrism.com/
2014/05/24/pig-latin/. For "frame theory" or "frame control" as an MRA rhetorical strategy, see
Zuckerberg, Dead White Men, 39.
22 Peter Wright, "Damseling, Chivalry and Courtly Love (Part One)," July 3, 2016, accessed August 20,
2019, https://gynocentήsm.com/2016/07/03/damseling-chivalry-and-courtly-love-part-one/.
23 Wright, "Damseling."
24 Wright, "Damseling."
25 Peter Wήght, "The Birth of Chivalric Love," July 14, 2013, accessed August 20, 2020, https://
gynocentrism.com/2013/07/14/the-birth-of-chivalήc-love/.
26 Wright, "Birth of Chivalric Love."
28 For which, see Zuckerberg, Dead White Men, 2018, in which she notes that "Members of the men's
ήghts movement see pickup artists as participating in and contήbuting to gynocentrism; by placing so
much value οη women as sex objects, they inadvertently afford women power over them. Pickup
artists, meanwhile, believe that sexual success is a key element of being a true alpha male, and they
believe those in the men's ήghts movement channel their sexual frustration into social activism because
they are unable to convince women to have sex with them" (17).
30 Wright, "Birth of Chivalric Love." "Gallantry" is another term of deήsion drawn from the Middle
Ages to function in the present: gallantry is deήded as a form of male acquiescence to gynocracy
through which it lost its militaristic connotations and became associated with indulgent behavior
towards women.
33 1 have previously discussed Galbi's appropήation of Byzantine literature and the ethical imperative that
''Byzantinists can at least participate in the consciousness-raising aspect of ecocήticism and other
manifestations of standpoint cήticism by becorning aware of the ways in which their own work can
either comfort or resist illiberal ideologies," Adam Goldwyn, Byzantine Ecocriticisrn: Wornen, Nature and
Power in the Medieval Greek Rornance (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2019), 230.
34 Accessed August 20, 2019, https://wiki4men.com/wiki/Main_Page.
35 The exact dating of the text and its author remain uncertain; for a recent survey of the editions, date,
and potential authorship by Andronikos Komenos Palaiologos, see Goldwyn and Nilsson, Reading the
Late Byzantine Ro, xiv-xv, esp. η. 7.
36 Douglas Galbi, "Damsel Instructed Hero οη How to Slay Dragon," January 8, 2017, accessed August
20, 2019, https://www.purplemotes.net/2017/01/08/damsel-hero-slay-dragon/.
37 Galbi, "Damsel Instructed Hero."
38 Douglas Galbi, "Chrysorroi Descήbed Kallimachos as Deserving Her Love Because of His Labors,"
January 1, 2017, accessed August 20, 2019, https://www.purplemotes.net/2017 /01/01/chrysorroi
kallimachos-love-labors/.
39 According to wiki4men.com, "Men Going Their Own Way (MGTOW) refers to men committed to
self-deterrnination, and to voluntaήsm within relationship. Defining oneself as a Man Going His Own
Way (MGHOW) is a statement and an act of self-ownership. Additionally, MGTOW usually en
compasses the view that a man has the sole ήght to decide what his own goals in life will be, rather than
accepting goals conferred by others, or by social consensus of peers, or higher social status individuals
or collectives," Accessed August 20, 2019, https://wiki4men.com/wiki/MGTOW/.
40 For editions and date, see Reading the Late Byzantine Rornance, xiii-xiv.
41 Douglas Galbi, "Livistros and Rhodarnne Shows Men Under Despotic Eros in Byzantium," January 8,
2017, accessed August 20, 2019, https://www.purplemotes.net/2017/01/08/livistros-rhodamne/.
42 The expression "Modern master-teachers of love" links to another of Galbi's posts and refers to three
contemporary leaders in the PUA community: "Prolific bloggers Roosh, Obsidian, and Roissy provide
leamed insight into Ovid's love elegies. Roosh uses the style of modern social science and internet
437
Adam J. Goldwyn
cornmerce, along with some oήginal, romance-novel-like story wήting, to instruct (male) readers οη
how to bang women. Obsidian appears to be an eighteenth-century enlightenment idealist who attempts
to discuss rationally explosive issues such as relationships between black women and black men. Given
that he spent time οη the street as a homeless person, Obsidian's quixotic commitment to rational public
discourse is even more extraordinary. Roissy is a widely acknowledged master of sexual persuasion
("game") and a highly polished, literary wήter" (Douglas Galbi, "Understanding Ovid's Satiήcal Roman
LoveElegy," February 14, 2010, accessed August 20, 2019, https://www.purplemotes.net/2010/02/14/
understanding-ovids-satiήcal-roman-love-elegy/.).
43 See, for instance, the wiki4men, which defines domestic violence as "The cornmon perception of
domestic violence (also known as intimate partner violence) is as something men perpetrate against
women. Data suggests this is an inaccurate picture" (accessed August 20, 2019, https://wiki4men.
com/wiki/Domestic_violence).
44 For the complicated problem of dating the novel, see Jeffreys, Four Byzantine Novels, 161-6.
45 This reframing of the gender valence of harassment is discussed in Hodapp, Men's Rights, xiii.
46 Douglas Galbi, 'Ήysminias Loving Hysmine Spurred Her Mother to Violence," February 26, 2017,
accessed August 20, 2019, https://www.purplemotes.net/2017/02/26/hysmine-mother-violence/.
47 Douglas Galbi, "Byzantine Literature Can Help Men Overcome Romantic Simplicity," February 12,
2017, accessed August 20, 2019, https://www.purplemotes.net/2017/02/12/romantic-simplicity/.
48 Douglas Galbi, "Charikles Redeemed Byzantine Novel from Romantic Simplicity," March 5, 2017,
accessed August 20, 2019, https://www.purplemotes.net/2017/03/05/chaήkles-byzantine-novel/.
Niketas Eugenianos' Drosilla and Charikles is another novel of the twelfth-century, perhaps datable to
1153, though the issue of dating for this work is as complicated as for the other novels of the twelfth
century; for the consensus of modern scholarship οη the date of the work, see Jeffreys, Four Byzantine
Novels, 341-3.
49 Douglas Galbi, "Byzantine Literature Can Help Men Overcome Romantic Simplicity," February 12,
2017, accessed August 20, 2019, https://www.purplemotes.net/2017/02/12/romantic-simplicity/.
50 This chapter was wήtten before the outbreak of the coronavirus and finalized in Fargo, ND while
under a city-wide "stay at home" order in Apήl 2020. Given the time and circumstances, Ι could not
take into account the full scope of the compaήsons of the plague of Justinian to the contemporary
circumstances of America during the pandemic, but the plague of Justinian as an exemplum for
coronavirus are numerous and growing, though often marshalled as a cήtique of the President or as
representatives of the broader potential for social change. Το give but one representative if less
ideologically extreme example of the way in which the plague ofJustinian serves as a paradigm for this
second paradigm, Walter Schiedel used a variety of past exempla to demonstrate that the peήods
immediately after plagues did not necessaήly decrease income inequality. Among the histoήcal ex
amples are the "Great Rising ofEnglish peasants in 1381" after the Black Plague and "the Mamluks of
Egypt." Ιη this broad histoήcal survey, Byzantium after the plague of Justinian serves as a counter
example: "But more often than not, repression failed. The first known plague pandemic inEurope and
the Middle East, which started in 541, provides the earliest example. Anticipating the English
Ordinance of Laborers by 800 years, the Byzantine emperorJustinian railed against scarce workers who
"demand double and triple wages and salaήes, in violation of ancient customs" and forbade them "to
yield to the detestable passion of avaήce"-to charge market wages for their labour. The doubling or
tήpling of real incomes reported οη papyrus documents from the Byzantine province of Egypt leaves
ηο doubt that his decree fell οη deaf ears" (Walter Scheidel, "Why the Wealthy Fear Pandemics," The
New York Times, Apήl 9, 2020, accessed Apήl 12, 2020).
Αη explicit connection of Trump and Justinian was proposed by Laurence Kodikoff wήting for
Forbes, who argues that 'Έvery plague gets a nickname. There's the Antonine Flu, the Plague of
Justinian, the Black Death, the Russian Flu, the Spanish Flu, the Asian Flu, the Hong Kong Flu, and
the Swine Flu, to name a few. These names reference the leader in charge (e.g., RomanEmperors,
Marcus Aurelius Antonius, and Flavius Justinianus), flu symptoms (e.g., large, blacked lymph
nodes), the plague's initial location, or the plague's vector." He goes οη to suggest that "the reason
we have the worst outbreak in the world has everything to do with the President's inactions.
Hence, Ameήcans, at least, may start calling covid-19 the Trump Flu." This framing thus positions
Trump as a newJustinian, both leaders under whom a devastating plague broke out, and the rest of
the article is a summary of the failures of the Trump administration in containing the coronavirus
and in enacting public health measures that would slow the resulting fatalities (Laurence Kodikoff,
"The Trump Flu?" Forbes.com, Apήl 6, 2020, accessed Apήl 12, 2020).
438
51 Michael Gerson, "Politics Isn't a Sport. Thinking so Is Dangerous," Washington Post, Apήl 11, 2019,
accessed August 20, 2019, https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/politics-isnt-a-sport-thinking
so-is-dangerous/2019/04/11/5d72d7c8-5c9d-11e9-9625-01d48d50ef75_story.html?noredirect = on.
52 Ron Insana, "Trump's Misguided Message from More Than 1,000 Years Ago," cnbc.com, May 4,
2016, accessed August 20, 2019, https://www.cnbc.com/2016/05/04/trumps-misguided-message
from-more-than-1000-years-ago-commentary.html.
53 F.H. Buckley, "The Swamp Needs aJustinian," Wall StreetJournal, April 19, 2018, accessed August
20, 2019, https://www.wsj.com/articles/the-swarnp-needs-a-justinian-1524178574.
54 Buckley, "The Swamp."
55 Buckley, "The Swamp."
56 Maxx, "Why Should We Fight?," March 24, 2016, accessed August 20, 2019, https://www.
avoiceformen.com/misandry/chivalry/why-should-we-fight/.
57 Max Kutner, "Roosh V's Journey From Pickup Artist to Right-Wing Provocateur," Newsweek,
October 13, 2016, accessed August 20, 2019, https://www.newsweek.com/2016/10/21/roosh-v
pickup-artist-ήght-wing-provocateur-509319.html/.
58 Amasa Lyman, "Byzantium Emperor Justinian Shows How 'Gender Equality' Leads Το Decadence &
Mass Slaughter," Return ιf Kings, September 7, 2016, accessed August 20, 2010, https://www.
returnofkings.com/95579/byzantium-emperor-justinian-shows-how-gender-equality-leads-to-decadence
mass-slaughter/.
59 Lyman, 'Έyzantium Emperor Justinian."
60 Mack Larnoreux, "Roosh V Shuttering His Godawful Misogynist Website After Successful Boycotts,"
October 2, 2018, accessed August 20, 2019, https://www.vice.com/en_ca/article/d3jq8x/roosh-v
shuttering-return-of-kings-after-successful-boycotts.
61 Jason Kessler, 'Άnnouncing the New Byzantium Project," September 24, 2017, accessed August 20,
2019, https://jasonkessler.us/2017/09/24/announcing-the-formation-new-byzantium/.
62 The website explicidy proposes an inclusive rhetoric; it is exclusive only insofar as concerns religion
and politics: 'Έthnicity, nationality, race, color, or religion, do not determine the condition under
which one is a Hesperian. The spiήtual content of one's religious faith remains intact under the above
Judeo-Christian principles, values, and laws. Furthermore, the pήnciples of freedom, justice, and the
values inherent in the American Bill of Rights, the Declaration oflndependence, and the Constitution
are also an integral component of the Hespeήan identity," Mark Karras, 'ΊΝVΙΤΑΤΙΟΝ to join the
HESPERIANS," accessed August 20, 2019, http://www.new-byzantium.org/invtntoxp.htm.
63 Karras, 'ΊΝVΙΤΑΤΙΟΝ to Join the HESPERIANS."
64 Mark Karras, accessed August 20, 2019, http://www.new-byzantium.org/princples.htm.
65 Mark Karras, accessed August 20, 2019, http://www.new-byzantium.org/bio.htm.
66 Mark Karras, accessed August 20, 2019, http://www.new-byzantium.org/newbyz.html.
67 Mark Karras, accessed August 20, 2019, http://www.new-byzantium.org/princples.htm.
439
INDEX
Abbasid Caliphate 4, 14,200 Alans 125,127, 252

Abd al-Malik 239 Albanians 301
Abgar of Edessa 91 Alboin 125--6
Abortion 426 Alexander "Scissors" 201
Abouspharius 270 Alexander the Great 27, 50
Abraham 378 Alexandήa 142, 144-5, 148, 257,327
Acerenza 223 Alexius/Alexios Ι Komnenos (r. 1081-1118) 31,
Achilles 424 36, 71,81, 92, 267-8,301, 313-4, 318,
Adam and Eve 334 324, 407
Adams, J. 424 Alexius/Alexios ΙΙ Komnenos (r. 1180-1183) 297
Ad Decimum,batde of 181 "False" Alexios ΙΙ 287
adoption 56, 127-28, 265 Algerian High Plateaux 181
Adήanople 203, 249, 257, 284,400 Aligern of Montecassino 226
Adήatic 220-1,223 Alpheios of Rhinokoroura 141
adulthood 271-72 Altava 191
adventus 40--6, 52-3 Alt-right 6, 12, 425,433-34
Aegean Sea 301 Amal Dynasty 170
Aegimuήtana 150 Amalafήda 160, 177
Aeila Eudoxia 108 Amalasuintha/ Amalasuntha 8, 122, 129, 171-2,
Aeneas 134 179, 366
Agesilaus 378-88 Amalfi 206-7,224-5
Aghlabid Arabs 221 Amaseia 251
Agio 131 Amazons 163,165, 343-4
Agήanians 111 Ambri 130-1
Ain el-Ksar 186 Ambrose of Milan 147
Aion 342 Amirav, Η. 115
Aitolia 303 Amrnaedara (Haϊdra) 186
Agapius 28 Amrnianus Marcellinus (historian,fourth century
Agathias (histoήan, sixth century CE) 4, 107-12, CE) 22,25, 40-8,51, 108-9, 114,348
115-7, 250 Anastasius/ios (r. 491-518) 25, 139-44,146, 149,
Agatho (Pope, 678-681) 205 151, 156-7, 419
Agesilaus (King of Sparta,fourth-century BCE) Athanasius of Alexandria 393
378-88 Anatolia 5, 81,249, 267, 297,304
Aghlabid Arabs 221 Anatolikon theme 250,254-5
Agilulf 202 andreia 64, 113, 118, 121, 174
Agilulfing dynasty 131 Andronikos Doukas 399
agriculture 288, 293 Andronikos Kamateros 313,315
Agήppa 24,26 Andronikos Ι Komnenos (r. 1183-1185) 256,
Agήppina 369 287-90
Agnellus (histoήan, ninth century CE) 205 Andronikos ΙΙ (r. 1282-1328) 95
Akarnania 303 Andronikos ΠΙ (r. 1328-1341) 307
Akkad 257 Anaximenes of Lampsacus 21
440
Index
angels 5,83,268,318 Arius 152

anger 29,57,71,115-16,240,244,256,274, Arles 171
409,424 Armenians 184,218,252,254,258
animals 108,114-5,141,190,284,318,339, Church 315
343-44 army,Byzantine 42-9,61,64,89,107,109,111-7,
ants 306 121,169-70,172-73,176,182,184-6,188,
birds 85 193-4,252,254,256-7,286,288,293-5,305,
COWS 338 307,363-4,368-71,373,397-9,404,410,
dragons 40,66,235,429 413-4
eagles 85,285 Arabissos 250
geese 56 Arsacids 284
griffons 85,99 Arta 301
horses/horseback 59-61,65,71,167,343,345, Artabanes 184,194,371
359,369,398 Ascalon 113
lions 46,48,68,86,115,173,234-35,304,360 Asia Minor 248,254-55,301,304,306
monkeys 306 astrology 316-18,325-6
oxen 406 astronomy 318,320,322,326-7,409
sheep 338,406 Athalaric 366
snakes 256 Athens 43,47,94-5,253,344,359,424
werewolves 256 athletes/ athletics/ 334,336
wolves 65,228,238 Atlas Mts. 189
Antalas 191 Attaleiates,Michael,see Michael Attaleiates
Anthemius/ Anthemios (r. 467-472) 151,176 Attic dialect 143,152
Antinoopolis 338,351 Attila 115
Antioch 45-49,51-52,57-58,74,139,141-5, Augustus 39,43-4,48,151
153,205,360,403 Augustus/Gaius Octavius (r. 27 BCE to 14 CE) 4,
Antonina,wife of Belisaήus 363-74 26,255
Apennine Mountains 220 Augustine of Hippo 147
Apocalypse 4,9 Aures mts. 191
Appian (histoήan,second century CE) Ausonius (poet,fourth century CE) 252
Apokaukos 302-04,309 Austrasia 122
Aphthonius 25 Avidius Cassius 48,56
Apulia 219-22,225-6 Avitus (r. 455-456) 151
Aquileia 211,345,349
Arabia 4,142,253 Babylonia 257
Arabissos 129 Bacchus 165
Arabs 4-5,9,205,218,221,223-6,235,237-40, Baghdad 120
254,257 Baldwin ΠΙ 74
Arabian Peninsula 143,232 Balearic Islands 149
Aramaic 253-4 Balkans 4,14,200,220,301-2,304-5,307
Araspas 379 Bamberger Gunthertuch 90
Arborychoi 129 Baptism 157-8,240,242-4,247,266,269,275,
Arcadius (r. 395-408) 28,61,151 334,337,345-6,359
column of 61,76 barbaήans 1,8,12,42,47,55,61,63,67,72-3,77,
Arethes 250,257 107-18,123-26,130,134-5,149,169-70,
Areobindus 370 181-2,184-7,189-90,205,236,250,255-7,
Arete 391 292,305-7,343-4,383-5
Arigern 177 Barberini Ivory 61-2,68
Ariarith 186 Bardas Phokas 67,418
Aristakes of Lastivert 67 Βaή 207,214,221,224-5
Aristides (author, second century CE) 22 barley 190
aήstocracy 23-24,66,71,74,92,129,153 Barsine 380
Aristotle 92,113-4,121,314,319-21,323,328, Bartholomew (Aposde) 141
409,416 Basil,the strategos of Longobardia 226
Aristophanes (author,fifth/fourth centuήes CE Basil Ι (r. 867-886) 64,67-8,74,90,221,268,
206,309 283-87,289-91,296
441
Index
Basil ΙΙ (r. 976-1027) 59,68,71, 90,92-93,101, Caesar 39, 42-3,47,53, 414

256,299,408,413,418 Caesarea (in Palestine) 43,57,242
Basil of Caesarea 316-7,321,323,326,382, Calabria/Calabrians 256
384,386 Caliphate 4-5, 7,200, 232
Basil Apokapes 271 Cameron,Αν. 4,111, 117
Basil Onomagoulos 205 Campania 219-21,224-5
Basilios (abbot of Montecassino) 226 cancelarius 141
Basiliscus (r. 475-476) 141,146, 148,159 Cappadocia/Cappadocians 5,10, 248, 250,252,
Bassi,Κ. 113 254-8
Bassilla,rnime actress 349-51 Caput Vada 183
bathing,communal 347-9,353,355 Caracalla (r. 198-217) 24
Bauto 108 Carthage 150,161,183-5, 187,189,191-2,
beards 131-34,137 337,368
Belisaήus 9,63,115-7,121,151,181-3,185,187, Cassano 223
201,220,363-73 Cassiodorus (author,sixth century CE) 9,61,109,
Benedictine Abbey of Nonantola 226 123,125,129, 146,164,169-73
Benevento 9,131-2, 207-8,220-1,224--6 Cassius Dio (author,second and third century
Bethlehem 236 CE) 24
Bessos 254 Castration,rniraculous 359
Bible 63,86-7,234-5, 238, 244,317-8,322 Catania 336
Bikini Girls, see Piazza Armeήna Catalaunian Plains, batde of 115
Bileta,V. 115 cavalry/cavalrymen 40,61, 66,74-5, 116, 186
bishops 141-2,145-46,148-50,152-3,161-2, Celts/ Celtic 112, 255
202,204,250,253,257-8,300-4 Chalcedon, city 45
Bithynia/ Bithynians 254-5, 403 Chalcedon, council of 141,143, 145,150,
Bitugures 125-26 152-4,369
Blaudeau,Ρ. 141, 144 Chalcedonians 5,44, 140-6,150-2, 154,162
blinding 71,407, 423 anti-Chalcedonian 141,143,145, 257
Blues,faction 351, 431 chaήoteers/racing 87,431, see also games and races
bodyguards 418 Charlemagne 93,206
Boethius,consul and philosopher 164-65,167, charters 199, 208,217,224
169,176 chastity 64, 378-9,392
Bogomils 313-4,325 Childeήc 160
Bologna 371 childhood 10,270-1,278,284,356,360,405,421
Boniface IV (Pope 608-615) 203 children 28,129,186,228,240,263-76,294,335,
Βοήs,khan 222 339,343,358, 370-1, 373,380,421,427
Borm,Η. 372 Chiots 252
Boukellarioi 254 Chiron,centaur 384-5
Boukellarios 254 chivalry 71,426-7
Brahmans 384 Chosroes ΙΙ, see Κhosrow ΙΙ
Brescello (Brixellum) 202 Chretien de Troyes (author,twelfth century) 126
Bήttans 393 Chrysorroi 429-30
Browning,R. 132 Christianity,and political culture 3,11,22,52,59,
Brubaker,L. 365 153,186,192, 219,221,226,239-42, 244,
Brutus 24,26,36 249-50,271,273,313,315,317,333,353,384
Bulgaria/Bulgarians/Bulgars 64-5,67,125,168-9, Ch rysargyron 141
171,176,204,223,228,248, 254,256,284, Church Fathers 93,257,316,321, 323,333,348,
287,301,305,322,397 360,406
church of 223 Cicero 21, 27,36,25--6,255-6
dialect of 306 Cilicians 254,256
Burgundians 134, 136,172 Cincinnatus 424
Bush,George W. 431 Circus Maximus 61
Busta Gallorum/Taginae,battle of 116 civilitas 34, 166,168-71,174,176-7
Byzacena 181,185, 188-9 Classis,port of 204
Byzantine, label 1-3 Claudian (poet,fourth/ fifth century CE) 147
Byzantine republic 19,81, 295 Claudius (r. 41-54 CE) 379, 384-5,392
442
Index
Claudius Aelianus (author,second/ third century Corsica 200,205

CE) 319,323 Corfu 302
Clement of Alexandήa 20 Coήnth 43,94
clergy 141,143-4,146,152,162,237,252,288, cosmography 313,315-7,322-3
303,315-6,318-22 Cosmos 313,316,317-19,321-2
climate 109-11,120,256 Council of Nicaea/Nikea (325) 46,253
Codex Iustinianus 3 Council of Ephesus (431) 139,141
Codex Theodosianus 3 courage, see also andreia 21-22,27,30,65-6,73,
cognomina 42 107,110-16,130,164,167-9,399,435
Coguzo Gepidasco 126 cowardice 110,115,167,398
Cohen,Β. 344 Creation 145,236,303,314-5,318-20,323,325,
coins 6,64,69,71,75,87,92,132,206,217,253 379,383
colonialism 83 Crete 256,420
Conant,J. 109 Cretans 252,256
Connolly,J. 114 Croats 223
Constans 1 (r.337-350) 39 Croke,Β. 139
Constans ΙΙ (r. 641-668) 132-3,198,205,208, Cronos 50
213,220 crusades 11,71,433
Constantina (city in North Afήca) 185 Ctesiphon 373
Constantine (seventh-century general) 131 Cusina 192
Constantine (sixth-century general) 364 Cyprus 321
Constantine (slave) 269 Cyril of Alexandήa 14(}-1
Constantine 1 (r. 306-337) 3,7,22,39-40,46-7, Cyrillis 203
50,59-60,85,87,92,114,273,284 Cyrus 30,111,379-85,390,392
Constantine ΙΙ (r. 337-340) 39,92
Constantine IV 63-64,204 Dacia/Dacians 148,254,260
Constantine V (r. 741-775) 64,87,92,96,344 Dacius of Milan 161
Constantine VI (r. 780-797) 96,296 Dagron, G. 26
Constantine/ Konstantinos Porphyrogennetos VII Dalmatius 39,53
(r. 913-959) 25,64-65,87,89-91,97,257,283, Damascius Diadochus (author, sixth century
287,289,296,370 CE) 25
Constantine VIII (976-1025) 93,408 Daniel 87,93,234
Constantine ΙΧ (r. 1042-1055) 69,79,96,286, Daniel,book of 237
290,408-10,415-6,418 Daniel the Stylite 157
Constantine Χ Doukas (r. 1059-1068) 71,285, Danube river 172,179,250
290,303,416,418 Daphne 52
Constantine Manasses/ Konstantinos (author, Daphne Palace 145
twelfth century CE) 252,318 Dara 141,145-46
Constantine Mesopotamites 305 Dardania 148
Constantinople/ Constantinopolitans 2-3,5-6, Daήus 379-84
10-12,28,42,44-45,50,52,61,63-4,67,69, David (Κing) 66,68,89-91,378,388
83-6,91-94,112,115-18,132,139,141-50, Deavolis 305
152,154,163,166,181-4,187-8,198-208, Dell'Acqua,F. 5
219-24,227,236,245,248-52,254,258, Demetήos Chomatenos 269-70,302-5,310
286-7,295,302-5,307,312,314-5,321,339, demons 157,233,268
353,369,371,373,398-9,426,435 Demosthenes 424
fall of (1453) 6,12,263-4 Devil 237,315
Constantius ΙΙ (r. 337-361) 7,39-52,60,63 diadem 43-4,166,175
Constantius Gallus (Caesar 351-354) 39,43,45,48, Diocletian (r. 284-305) 3,40,53
51-53 Diogenes 382
consular diptychs 337,343 Dionysius ΙΙ of Syracuse 20
consulship 19,25-26,35-36,41,160,166,177 Dioscorus 140
Coptic 3 Dioskoros ΙΙ,patriarch of Alexandria 257
Corinth 43 Diotogenes 21
Corippus (author,sixth century CE) 3,63,182, Divine Providence 318,323
186,190-2,197 DNA 218
443
Index
Domina 337,348-49,351 Eusebius (histoήan,fourth century CE) 22-23,33,

Dorninus Julius mosaic 337, 346 46,114,143,147, 392-93
Dornitian (r. 81-96) 23,43, 55 Εusebius of Thessalonike 92
Domnos of Antioch 145 Eustathius/Eustathios of Thessalonica (author 256,
Donatists 182,187 282,287
double-headed eagle 95 Eustathios Boilas 267-70,272-3
Dover,Κ. 386 Eustathios Daphomeles 248
dragons 40, 43,66,235, 429 Eustathios Rhomaios 273
Dreams 71,114 Eustratios of Nicaea 314
Droctulft 202 Eutharic 129,177
Dufraigne, Ρ. 42 Eutyches 140,145, 148
Dyophysite/ Dyophystism 5,141,145 Evagrius (historian,sixth/ seventh century CE)
Exarchate 9,63,200, 204-5
Edessa 54,91,142 exercise 336,355-6, 393
education/learning 21-3, 32,47,113, 130,139,
142-3,178,266,269,274-5,319-21,403,407 Facundus of Herrniane (author, sixth century)
efferninacy/unmanliness 41, 47,54,112, 132, 151,188
165-69,175-76,367,425, 431-33 Farnine 10, 63,288,291,294-5,298
Egypt/ Egyptians 4, 63,93,142,150,232,241, Fasting 321,363,373
254-55,257,382,384 ferninine/womanly 113,117,122,163-5,167,
Eirene/Irene (r. 797-802) 92,274 170-73,336-7,377,384,389,407,419,
Eirene/Irene,mother of Anna Komnene 402,406 422,425
Elarnites 254 Ferrandus of Carthage (author,sixth century
Elijah 68,87,90,93 CE) 151
Elpidios 205 Finley,Μ. 263,276
Eleutheήus 203 First Crusade 71
Embracing Couple mosaic,see Piazza Armeήna Flavian of Antioch 145 (author, fourth/fifth
emotions 83,113,153,378,389 century)
emplotment 233-4 Flower,R. 41,52
Ernir of Crete (tenth century, CE) 270 Foroiulians 132
Enaree 113 fortress of Sisauranon 373
Ennodius (author, fifth/sixth century CE) 9, fortresses 182,302-3
164-70, 172 Forty Martyrs,church of 287
Ephesus,city 141 Fourth Crusade 74,312, 322
Ephesus, Second Council of 14(}-1, 145 Franks 107, 111-2,114,117-8,124-9,132,134,
Epicurean atornism 316 171-72,179,202,207,221,224
Epiros 5,300-7 Frea 131
Eraric 125 Freedmen 264-71,273-5
Ethiopia/Ethiopians 254 Frexes 191, 196
Ethnogenesis 123,126-7, 135 Fronimuth 186
Euchaϊta 143, 156,161 Friuli 131
Eucheήus of Lugdunum (author, fifth century Fulgentius ofRuspe (author,fifth century CE) 151
CE) 147 funerary stela 349
Euchites 141
Eudokia (r. 1067-1071) 397,416 Gadiaufala (Ksar Sbahi) 185
Eufrasius 202 Gaeta 206-07,224-26
Eunapius (historian, fourth/fifth century CE) Gaetuli 191
54,108 Galatians 252, 254-56
eunuchs 5,41,45,47, 108, 132,151,256, 348, Galbi,D. 429-31
397,400 Galen 119-20
Euphernios,Byzantine naval commander 9, Galla Placidia 171
205,226 Gangra 143-44
Euphratensians 253 Garipius (a slave) 271
Euphrates 250 Gaul/Gauls 43, 114,124,129,151, 169,
Eusebius,eunuch 45,54 171-2,254
444
Index
Geiseήc/ Gaiseήc 125-6,187 Greens,faction 431

Geisirith 186 Gregoras (author,fourteenth century CE) 306
Gelasius (pope,492-96) 148 Gregory (author,tenth century CE) 272
Gelimer 63,125,160,181,186 Gregory (Byzantine patrician) 223
Gender 5-6,8,11-12,107-10,113,116,163-73, Gregory Akropolites (historian,thirteenth century)
333-6,348,353,363,365,367,369-70,372, 317-8,322
377-8,425-9,432-5 Gregory Ι/ the Great (Pope,590-604) 203-4
gender hierarchy 108 Gregory ΠΙ (Pope,731-41) 205
Genesios (author,tenth-century CE) 283-4,296 Gregory of Agήgento 205
Gennadius,exarch 203 Gregory of Cassano 226
Gennadius of Marseilles 147 Gregory ofNazianzus 141,148,254,315-6,
George (consul and Dux, seventh century CE) 198 383,385
George Akropolites (historian,thirteenth century Gregory ofNyssa 315,317
CE) 305 Grimoald 130-33
George Bardanes 302 Guaimar ΙΙ of Salerno 9,209
George Kedrenos 318,378-79,381-82,385,388 Gunthaήc
George Maniakes 397 Gunthaήs/Guntaήc 160,188
George the Monk (author,ninth century CE) 381, Gurzil,bull god 192,197
383-85,387,391-3 Gynocracy 425,430
George Pachymeres (author,fourteenth century
CE) 23,304 Hades 235
George Palaeologos 405 Hagia Sophia 28,61,65,84,86,98,435
George of Pisidia (author,seventh century CE) 64, hagiography 71,274,395,405
234-5 Halberstadt consular diptych
Georgians 251 Halsall,G. 109
genos 10,254,264-5 Hannibalianus 39,53
genre 6,11,21,27,164-5,169,171,338-9,387, Hararn al Shaήf 239
395-96,399,401,404-5,408,411,413,416-7, Harlow,Μ. 1
426,429,435 Hasding Dynasty 124-25,182,186-8,192
Gennadius of Marseilles 146 Haslam,Ν. 233-34,238-39
Gepids 124-26,168,175-6 Heaven 22,28,46,69,85-6,91,96,242,303,
Germanus 163,371-2 313-14,317-21,407,413
Gerson,Μ. 431 Hebblewhite,Μ. 42,47
Gibbon,Ε. 107,365 Heather,Ρ. 2
God 3,8,19-23,27-29,46,64,69,71,81,83-96, Hell 382
133,152,181,232-3,236-45,268-70,293, Helladia 349,351-52
301,315,319,321,323,369,400-2,426 Helladics 257
Godepert 131 Hellene 319,383-5
Goffart,W. 124-5,163-5,172 Hellenisation 132,200,203,205,210,222
Gog and Magog 240 Heraclea,lagoon of 202
Golden Church of Antioch 52 Heraclius/ Herakleios (r. 610-641) 63-4,67,74,
Goths 1-2,8-9,109-10,112-13,115,117,123-7, 85,92-3,132-3,199,205,232,234-6,240,
129,134,149,151,163-73,198,201,257,363, 243,251
366-67, 369 heresy 145,152,188,314-5
Graces 337 heresiology 313,330
Greece,ancient 3,7,11,108-09,112-15, 148, Hermaphroditus 357
166,170,255,314,378,381,387,402, 424-5 Herodotus (histoήan,fifth century BCE)
culture 21,25-29,31,11(}-11, 317-20, 322,386, 111-3,388
388,402 Herodian (histoήan second/third century CE)
modern 3,6,250,434 22,113
Greek Anthology 60 Herules 114,122,345,353
Greek identity 2-3,5,22,134,168,198, 200-1, Hierapolis 140,142,398
204-05,218,220,223,226,240,307 Hildeήc 181
language 3,5,9,92,107,113,139,142,147,152, Hippocratic treatises 11(}-11
171,182,186,198,200-01,203,207,219-20, hippodrome 57,61,145,185,431,433
222,226,239,243,249,255-56,265,370, Hippo Regius 342
383,385
445
Index
histoήography 24,81,90,109,116,150,154,200, Jacob Gew) 242-44

254,289,395 Jefferson,Thomas 424, 435
holy men 140,280 Jerome,Church Father 147,150
Holy Wisdom,church of 84 Jerome of Stridon 147
Homer (poet,eight centuryBCE) 65,71,92,378, Jerusalem 144,146,148,232, 235-37,238,392
388,404,436 Jesus Christ 50,87,92, 242,334,369,382,424
Homoians, (see also Aήans) 187 jewellery 113,347-8
homosexuality, (see also sexuality) 434 Jews 3,6,157,218,233,239-45,254-5,257,383
Honoήus (r. 395-423) 61,75 John Ι (exarch circa 611-16) 203
horse archery 117 John Ι (pope 523-526) 148,159--60
Horus 338 John/ Ioannes ΙΙ Komnenos (r.1118-1143) 71-72,
Humphήes, Μ. 181 88,403
Hunayn ibn Ishaq (author, ninth century CE) 120 John/Ioannes CatacouzenosVI (r. 1347-1354)
Huneήc 125,152 85,93
Huns 114-5,158,171 JohnVIII (r. 1425-1448) 95
hunting 66,78 JohnVIII (pope 872-82) 225
Hydatius (author,fifth century CE) 154 John XVI (pope 997-98) 226
Hydra 235 John Apokaukos 302,304
Hyperboreans 384 John,Axuch 285
John Chrysostom 149,265, 274,317-8,321,323
Iamblichus 409 John Damascene 313,317-8,320, 322-3
Ibas of Edessa 145 John Doukas 399
Ibba 177 John Diakήnomenos 8, 139-45, 147,153-5
Iberia 129,203, 207, 213 John (Dux circa 800) 206
Iconoclasm 4,64,87-8,93,200,203 John Italos 314
Icons 4,66,68, 96,241,324,417 John Lazares 297
Illyήa/Illyrians 111,148-9, 154,371,374 John Lydos/Lydus 19, 26,29
IllyήanBishops 149 John Malalas (historian, sixth century CE) 395
Illyήcum 139,146-47,149,172,221, 223 John Mauropous (poet,eleventh century CE) 285
invective/polemic 11,37,41,141, 145,150,156, John Philoponos 317
218,223,313-15, 365,367,372-3, 387 John,nephew ofVitalian 368,370-1
Isaac, (exarch,625-43) 199 John of Aigai 140
Isaac/ Isaak/Isaakios Ι Komnenos/ (r. 1057-1059) John of Antioch 155
69-72,74,249,290,298,397, 413-5 John ofBiclar (author,sixth/seventh century
Isaac/ Isaak ΙΙ Angelos (r. 1185-1195) 72-4,295 CE) 150
Isaac of Antioch (author,fifth century CE) 158 John of Compsa 203
Isaurians 87, 254,257 John of Ravenna 202
Ishmaelites 239 John Paleologos (r. 1428-1448) 93,305
Isidore of Pelusia 382,388 John Philagathos 226
Isidore of Seville 129,149-50 John Talaia 157
Isis 338 John theBaptist 145,147, 346
Islamic conquest of Sicily 207 John the Cappadocian 373
Islam 4,86, 207,219,232,235-41, 245,435 John the Exarch ofBulgaήa 322
IsonzoBridge 167 John the Orphanotrophos 29
Israel 85 John Skylitzes (historian,eleventh century CE) 65,
Issus, battle of 380 282-85,290-91,294, 298-99,395
Istήa 199, 202,204,206 John Troglita 186,189
Italians 112,116,201,210-11, 226,303 John Ι Tzimiskes (r. 969-976) 65,90,283-4,421
Italo-Romans 112,164,199,206 John Zonaras (histoήan eleventh/twelfth century
Italos 313-14 CE) 291,296, 316
Italy 1-2,4-5,9, 109, 112,117,124-7, 131-2, Jonah 334
134,145,149,151-2,163-4, 167-9,171-3, Jordanes (histoήan,sixth century CE) 3,8,109,
184,198,200-{)4, 207-08,217-8,251, 321, 114,125,127, 129,134,163-5,169, 172-3
363-4,368-9, 371,373 jousting 74,85
ivory 61-62,66, 68,87,89,97,100,343, 349, Jovian (r. 363-364) 22,26,43, 48
351,354 Judaism 219,239,243-4,313
446
Index
Julian (r. 361-363) 7,22, 24-5,39-52, 112 Leo Ι (pope,440-461) 140-1,148,254

Julian ofToledo 130 Leo Ι (r. 457-474) 146, 151,176
Justinian Ι (r. 527-565) 2-4, 8, 19-21,23-9,61-3, Leo ΠΙ (r. 717-741) 64,87,205, 221
84-7,109, 115-7,134,146,149-53, 170, Leo V (r. 813-820) 287
172-3,183-90,192,199,203,246,250-1,253, Leo VI (r. 886-912) 64, 89-90,92,209, 267-8,
255-6,265,363, 365--6,370-4,386-7,431-2 270,273-4,293,380
equestrian statue of 61 Leo Phokas 289
Justinian ΙΙ (r. 685-695, 705-711) 77,87, 92 Leontius Scholasticus (author,sixth century
J ustinianic reconquest/reconquista 61, 109,116-7, CE) 362
163,174,183, 202 Leo the Deacon 65,282-84, 289,291,294,
Julius Caesar 50 408,421
Julius Constantius 39 Leo the Mathematician 288,298
Justin Ι (r. 518-527) 146, 361 Leo the Philosopher 419
Justin ΙΙ (r. 565-574) 75,117,150, 160 Leo/nTornikios 249,286
Justiniana Pήma 250 Leonidis 116, 121
Lepcis Magna 189
Kaldellis, Α. 3, 65,81,217, 372,408 Liberius 178
Kallimachos 429-30 Liberatus (author, sixth century CE) 369-70
Kavadh (Persian shah,ruled 488-96,c. 498-531) Libanius/ Libanios (author, fourth century CE) 25,
141-2,157 32,48, 53, 253
Kantakouzenos (histoήan,fourteenth century) 307 Life rif Basil the Younger 272, 274
Kekaumenos 275 Life rif Mary the Younger 274
Keroularios 411-3,419 Longobardia, theme of 221,226
Kavadh (Sasanian shah, ruled 488-531) 141-2,157 logos 22-3
Kazhdan,Α. 65,71-2 logothetes 291,299,400,418
Κhosrow ΙΙ,also known as Parviz/ Chrosoes Lombards/ Longobards 8,123,125, 126-7,
(Sasanian shah,r. 590--628) 92, 234-35 131-34,199,201-3,205, 218,220-21,
kinship 124,127-30,182, 218,263-5,269,272, 224,227
275,310,310 Louis ΙΙ 224
knights 74,428, 433 Lucan (poet,first century CE) 166
Kolbaba,Τ. 315 Lucania 223
Komnene,Anna (histoήan,twelfth century CE) Lupus of Friuli 131
12,71, 92,282,287,314 Lydia/Lydians 257,403
Komito,sister ofTheodora 361 Lykia 253
Konstantinos of Rhodes 250 Lysias 414
Κοηοη 346 Luke Chrysoberges 318
Kosmas Indikopleustes 317 Lupus of Friuli 131
Kyriakos (freedman) 268,272
Kyriakos, church of 157 Maas,Μ. 25-6
Macedonia/Macedonians 10, 14,148,248-9, 252,
Laetus of Νepta 187 256-7,289,295, 306-7
Lampetios 141 Macedonian dynasty 65,86,88,293
Latin language 3, 24-26, 130, 139,147,149,151, Macedonius 143, 146,149,157-8
164,171,182,185,188-90,198,200,207,219, Maecenas 24,26
221,223,226,239,299,424,427 Maenads 340,343
Latins / Latin Church/culture 5, 11,71, 74,83, Magdalino, Ρ. 75,85-87, 89,92,217
94-5,97, 102,148,153-4,208,210,213, Magnentius 4(}-41, 44,54
218-9,223,226,248-9,292,301,304-5,307, magic 337,343-4,359, 365, 368-9
312-3,323,326 Majorian (r. 457-461) 151
Laurence of Lychnidos 149 Mandracum monastery 150
Lawathae 190 Malchus (author, fifth-century CE) 108
Liege 226 Manicheans/Manicheanism 145,157
Livistros 430 Manuel Ι Komnenos (r.1143-1180) 23,71, 73-4,
Lent 330 85,92, 291-92, 313-7,327
Leo (bishop in Calabria) 226 Manuel ΙΙ Palaeologus (r. 1391-1425) 23,95
Leo,baths of 65 Manuel Philes 85
447
Index
Mantzikert, battle of 399 Michael Attaleiates (historian,eleventh century

Marcellinus Comes (historian, sixth century CE) CE) 12,36,71,250,285,29(}-3,395-405,408,
Marcellus (Dux Numidiae) 417-8
Marcian (r. 450-457) 60,146,148,150-1 Michael Choniates (author,twelfth/ thirteenth
Marcentius 184 century CE) 250,304
Marcus Aurelius (r. 161-180) 43,45, 47,51-2, Michael Glykas (historian,poet,mathematician,
428,438 twelfth century) 317-18, 322
column of 358 Michael Ι Komnenos Doukas 301
Maήanos Argyros 226 Michael Psellus/Psellos 11-12,19, 314,319,321,
marriage 10,93,101,127-29,131,163,170,172, 323,395
179,184,194, 219, 266-70,272-5,280, 296, McCormick, Μ. 133,218,222
361,365-7,371,375,380,386,393,434 Mesopotarnia 4
Mars 165, 169,171,173 Messalianism 141
Martin,J.Μ. 222 Milan 164, 211
martyrdom/martyrs 152,287,346, 359 Milvian Bridge,battle of 12
Mary of Byzie 274 Mishael 148
masculinity/manliness 5,7,20,22-3,26-7,42-43, misogyny 432
109,111-6,130-3,163-5,171,179,377,389, Mocianus 188,195
425,429 Moesia 148
Masuna 191 Molyskos 305
Matasuintha 193 monastery of St. Catheήne, Sinai 93
Matera 223 monastery of St. John οη Patmos 93
Mauήce (r. 582-602) 61,92, 128,202-4,232 monastery of Vatopedi οη Mount Athos 93
Mauretania 183-8,189,191 monks 5,148,221,290,321,329
Masties 191 Montecassino 222
Maximus (fήend of the emperor Julian) 48 Mons Seleucus,batde of 40
Maximus,Petronus (r. 455) 141 Moors/Berbers 125,182-83, 189-93
Maximus the Confessor (author,seven century CE mosaics 11,63,74, 84,204,335-8, 342-3,
235,238,240,244,406 345-6,349
Maximinus 194 Moser,Μ. 48
McCormick,Μ. 133,218,222 Mouseses (a slave) 271
Medes 111,254 MRA (Men's Rights Activists) 425-31,433-5,437
Mediterranean 3, 5-6,9, 109,117,134, 185, Mt. Vesuvius 353
189-90,192,198-200,203-8, 217,219-21, Musil,Α. 353
229,264,387-8 Muslims 9,219, 221,225-6,239
Meleager 424 Musonius Rufus 20-21
Melitene 399 Musulames 190
Menander Protector (author,sixth century Myrina 250
CE) 109 Mzez 199, 205
Metanarrativities 233
MHRM (Men's Human RightsMovement) Naples 9,199-200,203-4,206-7,224-5,337,370
12,425 Naples Situla 340-2,347,357, 360-1, 368
Miaphysite,see Miaphysitism 5,140,145,148,150 Narses 107, 111,117,151,201,210
Miaphysitism 145 Nasamones 190
Michael ΙΙ (r. 820-829) 286,291 Naupaktos 302
Michael ΙΙ, "despot" of Epiros (r. 1230 to circa Naupaktos, church of 303
1268) 301, 304,308 Nebuchadnezzar 234
Michael ΠΙ (r. 842-867) 95, 283, 285,293 Nepos (r.474-475) 151-2
Michael IV (r. 1034-1041) 285-6,291-2,397,408 Nestor 418,424
Michael V (r. 1041-1042) 408 Nestoήus 140,149
Michael VI (r. 1056-1057) 413 Nestoήanism 141,148
Michael VII Doukas (r. 1071-1078) 71, 291-2, New Rome,see also Constantinople 69,86,251-2
400,416 Nicaea,empire of 301,304, 306
Michael VIII Palaeologus/Palaiologos (r. 1261- Nicenes 187
1282) 95, 305 Nicholas Orsini 306
Michael Anemas 406 Nikephoritzes 292
Michael,Archangel 67, 72-3,92, 145 Nikephoros, logothete 291-2, 400,418
448
Index
Nikephoros Ι (r. 802-811) 286-7 164-6,169-72,177,189,250,289,396,

Nikephoros Π (r. 963-969) 65,256,282,290-2, 399-401,416-17
294,299 Panaghia Kosmosoteira,church of 72
Nikephoros Bryennios 400,403 Pannonia/ Pannonians 53,125,148,158,
Nikephoros/Nicephorus ΠΙ Botaneiates (r. 168-9,176
1078-1081) 71,92,285 pantornime 351,361
Niketas Choniates (histoήan,twelfth/ thirteenth Papacy 5,88,93,145,148,152,205,213,221
centuries) 74,92,250,282,285,287,289-92, Paphlagonia/ Paphlagonians 10,156,250,252,257
295,297,312-6,318-20,322-3 Papiscus 241,245
Nikolaos Mystikos Patήarch,tenth century parents 250,264-70,272-3,275,284,403-6,
CE) 270 421,433
Niobids 344 Parmenides 21
Nikolaos Mystikos 270 Patterson,Ο. 263-4
Nilos 226,228 Paulicians 313
nomos 112 Paulina 356
nomos empsykhos 19-20,25-6 Paul the Deacon (author,eighth century CE) 8,
Νonnus of Panopolis (poet,fifth century CE) 125-26,131-33,188,200,207
Normans 71-72,222,301 Paul the Silentiary (author,sixth century CE)
North Afήca 4,9,116,181-4,186-92,221,226, 28,84
232,240,364,367,370-71 Pavia 220
nudity 6,333-7,340-4,346-9,351,353 peasants 5-6,10,115,282-3,287-8,290,293-5
Nurnidia 183,185,187,189,191 Pelagius Ι (pope,556-61) 160
Pelagonia 305
Oderzo 202 Pentapolis 204
Odovacer 166-67,169 Perctaήt 130
Olybήus (r. 472) 151 Pechenegs 71
Olympiodorus (histoήan,fifth century CE) 108 Persia/Persians 30,61,63-4,66,74,85,111-2,
Olympios (Arian) 144,157-8 121,132,142-43,232,234-5,240,245,251,
Olympios (exarch,649-653) 205 364,379-80,383
Ornissi,Α. 44 Peter archon of Zeuxippos 93
Orosius (author,fifth century CE) 108,147, Peter Bishop of Salona 161
154,162 Peter Mongos 141
Osrhoenians 253 Peter of Argos 381
Opsikion theme 252 Peter the Fuller 144
Orthodox Christianity 3,5-7,11,87,93,95,112, Peter the illustrus 238
140-6,148,153-4,181,187,198,233,249-50, Peter the Patrician 28
267,301,312-20,322-3,434 Peter the Philosopher 318
Ostrogoths 9,124,129,198,363,366,369 Philo 241,245,392-93
Otranto 223,225 philosophy/philosophers 6-7,19-29,40,45-8,50,
Otto Ι 223 52,83,86,92,112,114-5,121,204,255,
Otto Π 223,226,230 313-4,316-20,322,384,397,401-3,407-17
Otto ΠΙ 226 Philoxenus of Hierapolis 142
Ottomans 76,306,425,435 Phocas/Phokus (r. 602-610) 19,232
Ottonians 221 Phoenicians 253-5
Ovid (poet first century BCE/first-century Photius/Photios (author,ninth century) 89,
CE) 428 139-42,249-40
Photius of Russia 93
Paeonians 111 Phrygians 257
Paideia, see also education 25,317,322,402,413
Phulcaήs 114
Pakouήanos, Symbatios/Kale 269 Piazza Armeήna 335-38,345
Palestine/ Palestinians 4,63,113,144,232,236-7, Pigeon House church at <;:avu§in 65
240,242,253,255-6 Pisidi/Pisidians 257
Palladius 147 Pitiza 169
paludamentum 64 Plague of Justinian 63,203,220,365,438
Pamphylia 141,255,403 Plato (philosopher fifth/fourth century BCE) 20-2,
25,27-8,313-4,320,323,384-96,402,408-9
Panegyήc 24-25,27,46,59,64,65,72-3,81,
449
Index
Plautus (author,fifth century) 147 Reinink, G. 239

Pleasure Reynald de Chatillon 74
Pliny (author,first century CE) 23-4,26-7 Rhaidestos,port of
Plotinus 409 Rhine 40,134
Plutarch (author,first/second century CE) 21-3, Rhodes 250
380-3,385-7 Rothaή 130
Poetry 4,165,426,428 Rio,Α. 271,275
PoW,W. 2,108,124 Romanos Ι Lekapenos, (r. 919-944) 65,93,293
Polybius (historian,second century CE) 114 Romanos ΙΙ (r. 959-963)
Pompeii 345, 353 Romanos ΠΙ (r. 1028-1034) 288,294,408
Pontus/Pontos 255,301 Romanos IV Diogenes (r. 1068-1071) 71,
Porec 202 394-5,399
Porphyry 409 Romanitas/Romanness 2,8,10,81,107,117,134,
Ρο valley 202 165-6,179,185,201-2,248-9,287,305-6
Praeiecta 185 Roman,Romans. Romania use of terms 1-3,10,
Pragmatic Sanction 201 81,107-10,112-17,249-51,257-8
Praxiteles 41 Romano-Africans 188
Prespa 305 Rome,city 5, 40-3,61,87-8,93,95,117,132,
Priapus 357 142,144-45,147-8,164,167-8,170,192,199,
Priscus/Pήskos (historian,fifth century CE) 109 202,204,206,221,223-4,227,243,336,343,
Priscus (seventh-century general) 64 363,368,370,373
Proclus/ Proklos 28,253,409 Romulus,race of 171
Proconsularis 162,168 Romulus Augustulus (r. 476) 107,151
Procopius of Gaza (author,sixth century CE) 25 Rossano 224
Procopius/Prokopios of Caesarea (histoήan, sixth Rufus of Thessalanica 141
century CE) 1-3,8,11-12,29,61,63,81,109, Rugii 125,128,129
112,116-7,128-9,163,181-92,363-4,388 rulership 7,23,25-7,29,64-65,69,171,285,
Proj ecta Casket 290-1
Procurator 143
Prosper of Aquitaine (author,fifth century CE) Saammonrap 344
147,150-51 Sabbas 251
prostitutes/sex workers 340,351,355,434 Sabirs 143
Prudentius (author,fourth/fifth centuries CE) 114 St. Babylas 52
Psalms 378,388 St. Bassa,church of 145
Pseudo-Methodius (author,seventh century CE) St. Demetήus/Demetήos 66-7,72,75
235,239-40,244 Church of 360
Ptolemais 242,344 St Euphemia,church of 145
Pythagoras (philosopher,sixth-century BCE) 313 St George 66,72
Punic dialect 189 St. John of Patmos 321
Pygmies 342 St Paul 250,385,406
St. Peter 148
Qur'an 353 church of 95
Qusayr Άmra 353 St. Sergius/Sergios 141
Quadrivium 402 St Stephen at the Aurelianai,church of 144
St. Stephen at Horvat,church of 338
race 1,12,19,135,245,427, 432,435 St. Theodore 73
races and games 46,49,51,71 St. Ulrich and St. Afra in Augsburg, church of 86
Radelchis ΙΙ 225 Salento Peninsula 218-9,225
Ragnaris 126,27 Salerno 224-6
Ramseyer,V. 226 Salmawayh ibn Bunan 120
rashness 27,113,115-6 Salustius Secundus 45
Ravenna 1,9,173,199-206,213,221 Samaritans 254
Razates 64 Samnites 132
rebellions 43,184-86,188,200,205,211,222, Sanctio Pragmatica of 554 201
226,257,279,287,294,418 San Mauro 204
relics 52,71,84-6,93,99,141 Santa Maria Antiqua 206
450
Index
Saracens 74,236-7,253 Smaragdus (exarch 585-9 and 603-11) 202,226

Sarapammon 344 social media 12,445-8
Sardinia 199,204-205,207 Socrates/ Sokrates (histoήan,fifth century CE)
Sassanians 9,353,see also Persians 143,257
Saxons 126,128,219 Socrates/ Sokrates (philosopher,fourth/fifth
Scandza 124-25,134 century BCE) 20,381-82,384-85
Scythia/Scythians/Skyths 113,134,257,384, soldiers 1-2,6-7,9,27,43-4,47,63,66,74,107,
397,399 111,113,115-18,123,149,166-67,181,
Skylitzes Continuatus 291,298 184-6,203,225,250,287,294-95,303,315,
Sealand 257 363,37(}-1,374,380,398-9,405,410
Second Council ofLyons (1274) 95 Solomon (eunuch) 184--6,188
Second Council ofNicaea (787) 139 Solomon,son of David 89
Selegnoun 270 Somers,Μ. 233-4
SeUuks,see also Turks 71,397 Sophia,slave 278
self-control,or lack of 30,32-3,37,41,234,257, Sophists 114
366,377,379-83,385-7,422 Sophronius ofJerusalem (author,seventh century
Seneca,the younger (author,first-century BCE/ CE) 236,245,254
first century CE) 21,416 sophrosyne 378-83,386-7,390
Serapis Τ emple 148 Soskos 305
Serbia/Serbians 73,95,306 Sozomen (histoήan,fifth century CE) 143
Sergios (strategos, eighth century CE) 205 Spartans 116
Sergius (magister militum) 184 Spoleto 131
Sergius Ι (pope 687-701) 213 statues,real and metaphoήcal 22,41-43,54,61,
Sergius of Constantinople 236 76,147,353-54,362
Sergiopolis 141 Stewart,Μ. Ε. 43,372
Seveήanos of Gabala 317 Stilicho 108
Severus of Sozopolis 142 Strabo (author,first century BCE/first century
Severus Alexander (r. 222-235) 24 CE) 109
Severus,bishop of Antioch 139,141,143 strangers 127,133
SeverusLibus (r. 461-465) 151 Strasbourg,battle of 43
Severus of Sozopolis 141-42 Stotzas 160,185-6,188-9,196
Severus the Patήarch of Aquileia 202 Suevi 202
Sevso Casket 337-9,347-8,36(}-1 Sumer 257
sexuality 5,11-12,335,351,383,386,433-5 Syracuse 213,22(}-1
sexual renunciation 15 Symbatios Pakouήanos 269
sexual violence 339,433 Symmachus 24
siblings 403,421 Symeon of Thessaloniki (author,fifteenth century
Sicilian Muslims 221 CE) 83
Sicily/Sicilians 117,199-200,204,206-7,212, Symeon theLogothete (histoήan,tenth century
22(}-5,301,321,336 CE) 393
Silcadinet 191 Symeon theNew Theologian (author,tenth and
silk/s 6-8,81-96 eleventh centuries) 387
Silvaian 191 Synesius of Cyrene (author,fourth/fifth century)
Silzactae 191 27-28,36,108
Silverius (pope 536-537) 366-7,369 Syracuse 22(}-1
Simplicius (pope,469-483) 148 Synod of Constantinople 426
Sirmium 168-8 Synod ofLaodicea 316
Sisauranon,fortress 373 Synod of Sidon 148
Sittas 361 Syήa/Syrians 4,20,88,93,241,253-5,357,369,
Skleraina 410 403,433
Skopje 306 Syήac 3,120,142,239
slaves/slavery 5-6,10,108,113-4,195,225,240,
255,263-76,284,333-4,337,339-40,346, Tacitus (histoήan,first/second century CE) 23-24,
348,361,365,37(}-1,412,427 26,358,369
Slavonic 322 Taranto 223
451
Index
Tarsos 250 Theophano, Ottonian empress 226

Tatianos 253 Theotokos 64,67,74,228
taxes/taxation 10-11,23, 166, 186,201-2,204, Theotokos ofChalkoprateia 145
219,227,239,253,256,283,287,289-95,297, Thessaloniki 95
299-300,303 empire of301,304-{)5
teπacotta lamps 337 Thessaly 148,301,306
Tetrarchy 3, 40 Thrace/Thracians 111,148,248,254,257,286,
Thebes 94 291,307
Themistius (author,fourth-century CE) 22,25,27, thrasos, see also rashness 113
32,55 Three Chapters Debate 150,153,161-62,182,
Theodahad 170 184,194
Theodore (exarch 678-87) 205 Tiber, ήver 4
Theodore Balsamon (author, twelfth century CE) Tiberius Π (r. 574-582) 61
74,283, 316-7 Tiberius ΠΙ (r. 698-705) 64
Theodore ofCabarsussi 150, 161 Timothy Ailouros 162
Theodore Dadibrenos 290 Timothy Salophakialos 141
Theodore Doukas (emperor ofEpirus and Trajan (r. 98-117) 23-4, 26
Thessaly, r.1215-1230) 305 column of358
Theodore Lector (author,sixth century CE) 8, Trasamund 160
140,143-53,157 Trebizond, empire of250, 308
Theodore ofMopsuestia 145 Tήcamarum, batde of181, 187
Theodore ofNicaea (author,tenth century Tήcaήco 223
CE) 381 Tήpolitania 183, 189-90
Theodore Stratelates 66 Torah 242
Theodore Tiro 74 Toronto School 124-5
Theodeήc/Theodoήc (2,123,125, 127-9,145, Totila 116,151
149,157,164-70,201 Tougher,S. 46,132
Theodoήc Π 327 torques 44
Theodora (empress,r. 527-548) 162,186,361, Troy 125, 134
366,369,372,433 Troyes Casket 66
Theodora (empress,r. 1055-1056) 413 True Cross 99, 232
Theodora, slave woman 267,272 Trump,Donald 425,431-2
Theodore Balsamon 316 Tuluin 170-1, 178
Theodoretos, bishop ofΚyπhos 253 Turks 12,72,95, 252,399
Theodore Ι Laskaήs (Empire ofNicaea,r. 1208- Tursi 223
1221) 3(}-2,308 Tyπhenian Sea 206
Theodore Π Laskaήs (Empire ofNicaea,r. 1254-
1258) 23,36,304 Ucutumani 191
Theodoros Metochites (author,fourteenth century Ulpian 24, 251
CE) 254 Umar ibn al-Κhattab (Caliph) 245
Theodoret ofCyπhus (author,fifth century CE) Umayyads 4,353
84,313,316,319,384 Ulpian (author,second/third century CE) 251
Theodoros ofKyzikos 387 Ursulus 45, 56
Theodosius Ι (r. 379-395) 22,24, 48,61, 76,85, Usdήla 1-3
148,151,386 usurpers 39-40,48, 56,131,162, 166,181,187,
Theodosius Π (r. 408-450) 141, 146, 151,171 232,305,307
Theodotos, bishop 143
Theopaschists 148 Vandals 110, 116,117,119,125-26, 130,152,
Theophylact ofOhήd 71 181-93
Theophylaktos Simokattes/ Theophylact Simocatta Valeήan 1-2
(author sixth/seventh century) 92 Valentinian Ι (r. 364-375) 362
Theophilos (r. 829-842) Valentinian ΠΙ (r. 425-455) 24,151, 171-2
Theophanes (histoήan, eighth/ninth century) 65 Van Nuffelen,Ρ 51
Theophanes Continuatus (circa 950) 285-7,289, Varangians 248, 257
291,395 Vami 127
Theπnopylae,battle of116, 121
452
Index
Vatican,Rome 87 white-knighting 428-29,433

Vatican Sakkos 95 Widows 172,170,185,366,371,403,407
Vegetius (fourth/fifth-century CE author) 111 Williams, C. 109
Venetians 213 wine 190,240,269,282,381
Venice 200,209 Winnili 130-1,133
Venice Psalter 67-8 Wodan 130,133
Venus 165,169,337,346,356-7,359
Verona 167 Xenophon (author,fifth/fourth-century BCE) 20,
Verona,batde of 167 27,378-80,386-88
Victoήnus 188 Xerxes 112
Victoήa and Albert Museum 93
Victor of Tunnuna (author,sixth century CE) 8, Zabarda 203
144--45,149-54,370 Zachaήas Scholasticus (histoήan,fifth/sixth
Vienna School 123 centuήes CE) 141,145
Vigilius,pope 152,161-62,369-70 Zeno (r. 474-491) 146,151,157,166-7,178
violence 59-60,73-74,200,274,281,294--5,339, Zeitounion 303
344,348,380,428-30,433,438 Zeugitania 189
Virgil (poet,first century BCE-first century BCE) Zeus 44,50
166,190 Zigabenos 313-14,316,319
virginity 166 Zodiac 313,317-18,320,342
Virgin Mary 71,79,84,281,338-9 Zoe (empress) 69,285,410-11
virtus 36,60-61,118,130,164--7,169,171,174 Zoe, (former slave of Eustathios Boilas) 270
Visigoths 124,127,129,198 Zoilos of Alexandήa 153
Vitalian 370-71 Zoroastήans 235
Vitigis/ Witigis 179 Zosimus/Zosimos (histoήan,fifth/ sixth century
Vlachemai,church of 304 CE) 47
Zosimus/Zosimos (pope,417-418) 148
Walesby tank 346 Zuckerberg,D. 425,427-8
water 50,158,165,303,318,345,373 Zundader fortress 157
water supply 185,302,338,360,373,375 Zupan Bagin 73
wet-nurses 272,279,339,346,357,360
wheat 190,269,282
453
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ΤΗΕ ROUTLEDGE HANDBOOK ΟΝ

Michael Edward Stewart is an Honorary Research Fellow in the School of History,

David Alan Parnell is an Associate Professor of History at Indiana University

Conor Whately is an Associate Professor at the University of Winnipeg, Canada.

The Routledge Handbook of Material Cώture ίη Early Modern Europe

Edited by Michael Edward Stewart,

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

Library of Congress Catalσguing-in-Publicatiσn Data

editor, author. Whately, Conor, editor, author.

Title: The Routledge handbook οη identity ίη Byzantium / edited by Michael

ISBN 9780367143411 (hardback) 1 ISBN 9781032207087 (paperback) 1

ISBN: 978-0-367-14341-1 (hbk)

List ιif Figures vιιι

2 The Political Philosophy ofJohn Lydus and Early Byzantine Impeήal

3 Constantinian Impeήal Identities: The Julianic Pushback 39

4 Soldier-Emperors and the Motif oflmperial Violence in the Byzantine

5 Impeήal Identity: Byzantine Silks, Art, Autocracy, Theocracy, and the

6 Το Triumph Forever: Romans and Barbaήans in Early Byzantium 107

7 Some Considerations οη Barbarian Ethnicity in Late antiquity 123

8 The Elements of Identity as Exemplified by Four-Late Antique

9 Manly Goths, Unmanly Romans: Ideologies of Gender in Ostrogothic

10 Contested Identities in Byzantine North Mrica 181

11 Contested Identities in The Byzantine West, Circa 540-895 198

12 Overlapping Identities and Individual Agency in Byzantine

13 Dehumanisation, Apocalypticism, and Anti-Judaism: Reflections οη

14 Provincial Identities in Byzantium 248

16 Middle Byzantine Histoήans and the Dichotomy of Peasant Identity 282

17 Political Power, Space, and Identities in the State of Epiros

18 "Moses' Account is Simpler, More Concise and More Effective":

19 Pήvilege, Pleasure, Performance: Reading Female Nudity in Late

20 Α War ofWords οη the Place ofMilitary Wives in the Sixth-Century

21 Reading Greco-Roman Gender Ideals in Byzantium: Classical Heroes

22 Modes of Identity: Attaleiates, Komnene, and Psellos 395

23 Byzantium in the American Alt-Right Imagination: Paradigms of the

3.1 Solidus of Constantius ΙΙ. Coin from Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Jonathan J. Arnold is an Associate Professor of History at the University of Tulsa, Tulsa,

Anne-Laurence Caudano is a Professor of History, University of Winnipeg, Winnipeg,

Sviatoslav Dmitriev is an Associate Professor of History at Ball State University, Muncie,

Nicola Rose Ernst is a PhD candidate at the University of Exeter, England.

Adam J. Goldwyn is an Associate Professor of Medieval Literature and English at North

Christopher Heath is an Associate Lecturer at Manchester Metropolitan University,

Robert Kasperski is an Associate Professor at the Tadeusz Manteuffel Institute of History of

Rafal Kosiήski is a Professor of Ancient andByzantine History at the University ofBialystok,

Nathan Leidholm is an Assistant Professor at Bilkent University, Ankara, Turkey.

Christopher W. Malone is a Lecturer at the University of Sydney, New South Wales,

Andy Merrills is an Associate Professor of Ancient History at the University of Leicester,

Anna Muthesius ιs a Professor of History at the University of Cambήdge, Cambήdge,

David Alan Parnell is an Associate Professor of History at Indiana University Northwest,

Ioannis Smarnakis is a Lecturer in the Department of Social Anthropology andHistory at the

Grace Stafford is PhD Candidate in Classical Archaeology at the University of Oxford,

Conor Whately is an Associate Professor of Classics at the University ofWinnipeg, Winnipeg,

JRS Journal of Roman Studies

Michael Edward Stewart

Byzantium in α Changed World

The Social Order

chosen to provide methodologically sophisticated and multidisciplinary perspectives οη specific

Romanitas in the Late Antique Mediteπanean

Ιη most modem scholarship, provincial labels (Macedonian, Paphlagonian, Cappadocian, etc.)

Gendered Identities: Literature, Memory, and Self in Early and Middle

1 The Rώer as Animated Law ίη Philosoρhical Interρretation

2 The Ruler as Animated Law ίη Legalistic Interpretation

3 John Lydus and Early Byzantine Imperial Identity

Ceremony vs Military: Remote and Relatable Identities

cowardice (the opposite of virtus) is a running theme throughout.41 So is Odovacer's, an un