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Drake - Intolerance, Religious Violence, and Political Legitimacy in Late Antiquity
Drake - Intolerance, Religious Violence, and Political Legitimacy in Late Antiquity
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Journal of the American Academy of Religion
Journal of the American Academy of Religion, March 2011, Vol. 79, No. 1, pp. 193-235
doi:10.1093/jaarel/lfq064
Advance Access publication on October 25, 2010
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2010. Published by Oxford University Press, on behalf of the American Academy of
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'Rubens' life-sized depiction of Ambrose barring the emperor's entry to the Milan cathedral
hangs in the Kunsthistorische Museum in Vienna. Van Dyck's more modestly sized rendition, with
small but significant changes, is on view in London's National Gallery. This dramatized version of
the event first appears in the Church History of Theodoret, written in Syria in the mid-fifth
century. In contrast to the way later ages read this story, at the time Ambrose was far more discreet
in his negotiations with the emperor, and the best modern study concludes that the bishop's
suggestion that the emperor do penance actually worked to Theodosius's advantage. See McLynn
(1994: 315-330). See also Kolb (1980). For discussion and comparison of the paintings, Wheelock
et al. (1990), esp. 17-25, 100-102. The letter Ambrose wrote to Theodosius on this occasion was
not included in the ten books of correspondence published after his death, but was passed down
independently. It is edited by Zelzer (1982). Ambrose only alludes to the incident in the Funeral
Oration he delivered on the death of Theodosius in 395 (de obit. Theo. 13-14, 27-28); his deacon,
Paulinus, places greater emphasis on the bishop's role in the Life he wrote at the request of
Augustine of Hippo: vit. Ambr. 24., trans. Ramsey (1997: 205f).
2The best modern study is McLynn (1994); on Callinicum, see pp. 298-315. For Ambrose's
version of events, see Ep. Extra coll. 1 (41), ed. Zelzer (1982). There are important differences
between this letter and the one that was published as part of his collected letters, but these do not
affect any of the passages used here. For discussion, comparison and new translation, see
Liebeschuetz and Hill (2005: 27-28, 95-123). Unless otherwise noted, all translations of this letter
are from this version.
3Symmachus, in a plea for restoration of the Altar of Victory to the Senate house (a move also
opposed by Ambrose), argued that Uno itinere non potest perveniri ad tam grande secretum.
Symmachus, Relatio 111.10, ed. Klein (1972: 104-106). On such exchanges, see Ando (1996). For
Gibbon's position, see next note. For a lucid restatement, see Rives (2005). Galeotti (2002) is an
excellent recent discussion of the principle of toleration; see esp. pp. 20-52. For a nuanced
approach, see Kahlos (2009: 23).
4Gibbon (1909-14, II: 3) placed "intolerant zeal" at the top of his famous list of five reasons for
the success of Christianity. The four other factors were: "the doctrine of a future life," the
"miraculous powers ascribed to the primitive church," Christian morality, and the "union and
discipline of the Christian republic, which gradually formed an independent and increasing state in
the heart of the Roman empire." For Gibbon's intellectual milieu, see Pocock (1999).
5For examples of studies written in the conflict model, see the essays in Momigliano (1963).
MacMullen (1997) places heavy stress on Christian intolerance. O'Donnell (1977) offers definitions
of "pagan" and "Christian" that virtually equate with "tolerant" and "intolerant." Brown (1961) was
pivotal in suggesting that conflict alone could not explain the conversion of the Roman aristocracy,
on which see now Salzman (2002). For Constantine, Burckhardt (1880), trans. Hadas (1949),
though widely discredited for its picture of an emperor whose only concern was power, is still in
print. Baynes (1929) argued for a genuine conversion. Like Burckhardt, Baynes used repression of
other religions as his touchstone of sincerity, concluding that only political considerations stayed
Constantine's hand: "As the years passed, toleration of paganism gave place to active repression"
(357; 2 ed., 19). More recently, Barnes (1981) sees Constantine pursuing a vigorous program to
suppress paganism that included a (lost) law banning sacrifice. In Barnes (1986: 50), he wrote
(with unintended irony), "The law prohibiting pagan sacrifice is the lynch-pin of the thesis that
Constantine carried through a religious Reformation."
6See, e.g., Shafer (2004: 242), "Given the violent elements of Christian eschatology, the cult of
martyrs, and the merely expedient nature of early Christian nonviolence, it should come as no
surprise that when the Christians gained control of the Roman government, they used violence
against their enemies and each other." Cf. Kahlos (2009: 23), "It is important not to read second
and third-century appeals anachronistically as declarations of universal freedom of religion and
toleration. Instead, it seems that Christian apologists ... were interested only in securing the rights
of their own group." Although dealing with the early modern period, Pettegree (1996: 198)
concluded that toleation was "ever a loser's creed."
7In the life of the early fifth-century bishop Porphyry of Gaza, attributed to Mark the Deacon,
there is a revealing confrontation between the bishop and his own parishioners, who objected to
the violence by which Porphyry made converts: "But some of the believers also said unto the holy
bishop that it behoved him to receive not those who came out of fear, but those whose purpose
was good" Hill (1913: 72). As an anecdote illustrative of Christian sentiment, this passage would
not be affected by arguments that the Life was actually written a century later, on which see
MacMullen (1997: 174 and note 68).
Christians started to use the term "pagan" as a pejorative for non-believers in Late Antiquity,
but although they are aware of this bias, scholars have so far failed to come up with a more neutral
substitute without resort to awkward circumlocutions, such as "people of the place," Chuvin (1990:
9). Fowden (1991: 119, note 1), proposed "polytheists," but this term ignores the presence of
influential pagan monotheists and thus adheres to an even more skewed Christian view. See
Athanassiadi and Frede (1999). In Drake (1976: 53-57), I point out how Eusebius of Caesarea can
confuse modern readers by equating "monotheism" with Christianity and "polytheism" with non
Christians.
9Hahn (2004) concluded from a fresh review of the primary evidence for religious violen
four Late Antique cities that religious considerations alone cannot explain such conflicts
succinct introduction to the issue of identity formation and boundary maintenance,
seminal essays by Barth (1969, 2000). See also the discussion of boundaries in Beard et al.
1:211-244), and the introductory remarks of Frilingos (2009). For examples of studies tha
beyond theology, see Frankfurter (2000), where generational differences are foregrounded; In
(1996) I call attention to the role of social and demographic instability.
her child by the hand cut through the soldiers' ranks in her hurry to
get to the martyr-church. Annoyed, the prefect had the woman
brought before him, and said to her, "Where are you running so
helter-skelter, you wretched woman?" She replied, "To the same place
everybody else is running." To which he said, "Haven't you heard that
the prefect is going to destroy everyone he finds there?" And the
woman said, "I have, and that is why I am hurrying, so that I will be
found there." When the prefect asked, "And where are you dragging
this little child," she replied, "So that he too may be deemed worthy of
martyrdom."10
This response stopped the prefect dead in his tracks. Instead of continu
ing to the church, he reversed course and reported the incident to
Valens, who was wise enough to back off.
Socrates was not an unbiased source (Chesnut 1986: 175-198;
Urbainczyk 1996); his usefulness here and elsewhere in this paper is
not for the accuracy of his account or even the reality of the event, but
for the window he provides into contemporary Christian perspectives.
In this case, the episode he narrates illustrates the powerful pull of mar
tyrdom in the early Christian community, and also the way that fear of
creating martyrs, and thereby provoking even more unrest, could stay
an emperor's hand. Martyrdom was, indeed, a lever Ambrose used to
pry a pardon for Callinicum's bishop out of Theodosius. Proclaiming
his readiness to accept the punishment of the bishop of Callinicum
himself, Ambrose asked Theodosius, "Are you not also apprehensive at
the possibility of his [Callinicum's bishop] speaking out against the
count [i.e., the governor]? For in that case the count will have to make
the bishop either an apostate or a martyr."11
The threat of martyrdom could give emperors pause, but claims to
martyrdom did not go uncontested, as another story told by Socrates
reveals.
In the year 415, some five hundred Egyptian monks swarmed into
Alexandria in support of their pugnacious bishop, Cyril, who was at
that time in conflict with the imperial prefect, Orestes. One over
zealous monk named Ammonius threw a rock at the prefect, striking
him in the head with sufficient force to draw blood. Abandoned by his
guards, Orestes seemed destined to become one more name on the sur
prisingly large roster of imperial officials in Late Antiquity killed by
10Socrates, HE 4.18.5-4.18.8, ed. Hansen (1995). For a comparative discussion of such episodes,
see Shaw (2009). I am grateful to Prof. Shaw for the opportunity to read this article in typescript.
"Ambrose, Ep. 74 (40).7.
12Wessel (2004: 36-37) considers Socrates a biased source but does not dispute the opposition of
"some of the Alexandrian Christians" to Cyril's ploy. On religious struggles in Alexandria, see
Haas (1997: 302-308) and passim; Watts (2010).
n"Cumque satis clareat neminem posse beatitudines martyris eo genere conquirere quod alienum
a ueritate religionis et incongruum esse uideatur, eos quos contra fas et religionem ipsam
recognuero ... sine ulla dubitatione insaniae suae obstinationisque temerariae faciam merita exitia
persoluere." Ep. ad Celsum, ed. Maier (1987-89, 1, 195-196); trans. Edwards (1997: 194).
14See, e.g., Optatus, Appx 9 and 10 in Maier (1987-9) and Drake (2006).
15For "black-robed tribe," see Libanius, Oration 30.8 (pro templis), trans. Norman (1977): 107—
108; for "swine," Eunapius, trans. Wright (1921: 423). On Libanius's language, see Sizgorich (2007:
89-90). Christian violence is the centerpiece of MacMullen (1997).
>6Quae instituta monachorum; vel quare a multis odio habeantur. Ed. Feiertag and Steinmann
(1994: 3.2). Theodosius himself attempted to banish monks from Constantinople: CTh 16.3.1
(390), rescinded less than two years later (CTh 16.3.2). On attempts in this period to control
monks, see Caner (2002). For the text: Mommsen and Meyer (1962); Eng. trans. Pharr (1952).
l7Can. 60: Si quis idola fregerit et ibidem fuerit occisus, quatenus in Evangelio scriptum non est
neque invenitur sub Apostolis unquam factum, placuit in numero eum non recipi martyrum. Ed.
Jonkers (1954): 18. The date of the council has been placed in various years of the early fourth
century, but Meigne (1975) argues that the canons as we have them are a compilation of various
councils held in Elvira during the course of that century.
18As observed by Brown (1961). See Tertullian, Ad Scapulam 2.2: Sed nec religionis est cogere
religionem, quae sponte suscipi debeat, non ui, cum et hostiae ab animo libenti expostulentur, and
cf. Lactantius, Divine Institutes, 5.20. Garnsey (1984) has identified Tertullian's argument as the
first instance of toleration asserted as a principle instead of an expedient. For a more skeptical
reading, see Streeter (2006: 229-251); see also Stroumsa (1998). On Lactantius, see Digeser (2000).
More generally, Field (1998).
19Ep. 70 (40).21: Si Iulianus non est ultus ecclesiam quia praevaricator est, tu, imperator,
ulcisceris synagogae inuriam quia Christianus es?
20As observed by Sizgorich (2007: 96): "Within this evolving Christian discourse... the emperor—
even a Christian emperor—was always already a persecutor" Cf. Gaddis (2005: 100): "we may well
conclude that the Christian government's reluctance to employ the sword in specifically religious
matters resulted from a conscious desire to avoid making martyrs of fellow Christians in a manner
that might provoke comparisons to the pagan persecutions."
ll"Quod agebat ideo obstinate, ut dissensiones augente licentia, non timeret unanimantem postea
plebem, nullas infestas hominibus bestias, ut sunt sibi ferales plerique Christianorum expertus."
Ammianus 22.5.4, trans. Rolfe (1972,11:202-203).
22Ammianus 22.10.7 and 25.4.20. On the importance of this training, see Raster (1988), Brown
(1992), Bowman and Woolf (1994), and Gleason (1995).
because they do not believe in the gods who populate these works.23
Julian says nothing about Christian students, but it would be disingenu
ous to minimize the impact of his law for this reason. Julian's law effec
tively reclassified a body of literature that had always been regarded as
part of a common cultural inheritance as pagan equivalents of
Christian scripture. In doing so, he strengthened the hand of those
Christians who also believed contact with these classics should be
avoided, thereby making higher status Christians doubly vulnerable.
Julian knew exactly what he was doing. With a thorough command of
Christian scripture, he taunted the "Galileans" (as he insisted on calling
them) as hypocrites for coveting wealth, prestige, and power in violation
of their master's teachings.24
Inadvertently, Julian contributed to a significant re-definition of
the criteria for martyrdom that emerged in the second half of the
fourth century. His aggressive efforts to restore the traditional reli
gions of the empire and isolate Christians in a political and cultural
backwater prompted a period of introspection and reflection that was
worked out in the language of martyrdom and persecution.25 By
steering clear of persecution, Julian put Christians in a bind.
From Nero onward, emperors hostile to their faith had always
used the stick of persecution in their attempts to force conformity,
thereby creating the martyrs whose unwavering fidelity inspired
their less heroic brethren. Discursively, Christians had developed
an elaborate repertoire to deal with such attacks, but they lacked
the tools to deal with a hostile emperor who used carrots instead
23Ep. 36, ed. & trans. Wright (1923,111:116-123). The letter has often been linked to a surviving
law enjoining municipal councils to scrutinize the character of teachers (CTh 13.3.5). But that
connection is doubtful. See Banchich (1993) and Matthews (2000: 274-277). Cf. Watts (2006: 70).
See further Hardy (1986) and Limberis (2000). On Julian generally, the classic work remains Bidez
(1930). See also Athanassiadi-Fowden (1981); Smith (1995).
24See, e.g., "Against the Galileans" 206A, trans. Wright (1923: III, 377): Jesus and Paul "never
even hoped that you would one day attain to such power as you have; for they were content if they
could delude maidservants and slaves ..."; 229C, trans. Wright (1923: III, 385): "If the reading of
your own scriptures is sufficient for you, why do you nibble at the learning of the Hellenes?" As
Markus (1990: 30), noted, the divide opened by Julian "made it harder for Christians to
appropriate the culture which came to be seen as the preserve of pagan religion." Cf. Garnsey
(1984: 20): "Until the reign of Julian peaceful competition with paganism had seemed a winning
strategy, and justifiably: with the authority and financial resources of the emperor behind the
Christians, the contest had been unequal."
25Cf. Gaddis (2005: 70): "Discourses of martyrdom and persecution formed the symbolic
language through which Christians represented, justified, or denounced the use of violence." The
generation that followed Julian once was celebrated as a period of "pagan revival," but is now more
accurately seen as one in which the lines between pagan and Christian, and between Christianity
and classical culture more generally, hardened. See Markus (1990: 29) and Brown (1995: 47); for
the earlier view, Bloch (1963).
CHRISTIAN SELF-DEFINITION
26For a Christian view of persecuting emperors, see Lactantius, "On the Deaths of the
Persecutors" (De mortibus persecutorum), written in the early years of Constantine's reign: ed. and
trans. Creed (1984). In general terms, Julian's aggressive program to disestablish Christianity no
merely from government but even more from elite culture had the effect of giving credibility to th
paranoid alarms of Christian militants. See Drake (1996). More generally, Penella (1993).
27Migne (1857), PG 35:532-644; trans. King (1888). See further Elm (2001, 2003). On the
discourse of martyrdom, see Castelli (2004), Gaddis (2005), and Grig (2005).
280r. 4.58. Migne (1857), PG 35:581: tes ton marturon times efthonei tois athletais. Trans. King
(1888: 33).
29Or. 4.58. Migne (1857), PG 35:581; trans. King (1888: 33).
One party, one kind of souls, do I exclude from the festive assembly
[Gregory proclaimed], though I groan and am pained, and grieved for
them These be they who having come unto the Word superficially,
and through not having depth of earth, forthwith springing up and
peeping forth, upon a brief assault of the Evil One, and a slight blast
of persecution, have withered up and died away.30
those who were Christians in fact and those in name only became
apparent to everyone..." (H.E. 3.13).
Thus, Julian's effect was not only to expand the definition of persecu
tion and to polarize Christians and pagans, but also to polarize Christians
themselves. By creating an environment in which aggressive and defiant
Christians now shaped the definition between "real" and "nominal"
members of the faith, his policies were at least partially responsible for
aligning the definition of Christianity more closely to militant behavior.33
This narrowed range of behaviors that could be accepted as "truly"
Christian has hampered our understanding of the momentous changes
that took place in the earlier part of the fourth century right down to the
present day, as evidenced by an obsessive need to separate "real" Christians
from semi, demi, or hemi-Christians (Armstrong 1984; Bonner 1984) and
the long and utterly superfluous debate over Constantine's "sincerity." That
debate was fueled almost entirely by the premise that "real" Christians were
intolerant: since there is abundant evidence that Constantine refused to
coerce others to convert, decriers—of whom Jacob Burckhardt is perhaps
still the best known and most influential—argued that Constantine's con
version was only meant to serve his political ambitions (Burckhardt 1880).
Conversely, supporters have had to find grounds to dismiss these signs as
illusory, leading to contortions that would make a yoga master proud.
Timothy Barnes, for instance, has refused to accept Constantine's Edict to
the Provincials as an edict of toleration—despite phrases such as "Let those
who delight in error alike with those who believe partake in the advantages
of peace and quiet" and "[let all] those who wish to keep themselves away
have their temples of falsehood" (YC 2.56.1)—on the grounds that,
since Constantine does not mention animal sacrifice he must have banned
it, proving his intolerance, and thereby his sincerity.34 Yet, as Peter
Brown once observed, "Nothing, indeed, would have been more distressing
to a member of the late Roman upper classes than the suggestion that
'pagan' and 'Christian' were designations of overriding importance in their
style of life and in their choice of friends and allies."35
33cf„ Gaddis (2005: 92): Julian "underestimated the possibilities inherent in Christian models of
martyrdom If Julian could practice a different kind of persecution, the Christians would
respond with a different kind of martyrdom."
4Barnes (1981: 210), repeated Barnes (1986: 49). On the matter of sacrifices, see Bradbury
(1994), Errington (1988), and note 4 above. Constantine's edict is in Eusebius, De vita Constantini
2.48-2.60, trans. Cameron and Hall (1999: 111-114). The phrases quoted are at VC 2.56.1 (my
translation).
35Brown (1995: 47). Cf., Nora Berend in Benedict et al. (2007: 1435): "The Christian identity of
many earlier people has often been called into question by modern Christians whose criteria are so
different..." For the debate over Constantine's "sincerity," see note 4 above.
36Gaddis (2005: 181) has traced a newly aggressive understanding of the martyr's role that began
to appear in this period in sermons and martyr acts that celebrated these heroes not only for
defiance of imperial authority but also for the zeal with which they took the battle to the enemy.
Grig (2005) reaches a similar conclusion. Josef Lossl (2005) discusses the way conflict over the role
of asceticism in this same period affected concepts of martyrdom.
"Ambrose, Ep. 74 (40). 17, in Zelzer (1982). For Bishop Mark, see Sozomen, HE 5.10 and
Gaddis (2005: 94).
38As Honore (2004: 123) observes, "Christian emperors were subject to a set of sanctions in the
next world that might give them pause in this."
39Ep. 74 (40).6, in Zelzer (1982): sacerdotes enim turbarum moderatores sunt, studiosi pads, nisi
cum et ipsi moventur injuria dei, aut ecclesiae contumelia.
This was no idle threat. Only a few years earlier, Ambrose himself
had demonstrated the control a bishop could exercise over his congre
gation. In 385, the empress Justina wanted to allocate one of Milan's
churches to Arian Christians in her government and military. Ambrose
opposed her vigorously, leading to a tense, year-long standoff that came
to a head in the subsequent Easter season, when Ambrose's flock occu
pied the Portian basilica to prevent the court from using it, then held
out for days against a military blockade.40 Although Ambrose's finger
prints were all over this direct challenge to imperial authority, the court
lacked the means, or the will, to prosecute him, and the basilica thereby
remained safely in orthodox hands. The mastery of his congregation
that Ambrose displayed in this confrontation is the unwritten part of
his challenge to Theodosius two years later over the synagogue at
Callinicum. 1 That confrontation, in turn, reveals a major difference
between bishops and the traditional power elites with which emperors
were accustomed to deal. Whereas the civic elite were completely
enmeshed in a network held together by the imperial center, the bish
opric had developed independent of, and frequently in opposition to,
that structure. In all probability, Constantine did not grasp the signifi
cance of this difference when both faith and purpose led him to divert
resources to the clergy as an alternative infrastructure.42
Emperors were ultimately responsible for controlling these volatile
urban populations, and guaranteeing public order was the duty of the
emperor. For this reason, such situations were major tests of an emper
or's resolve, and even more of his skill: how he responded sent an
important signal about how much vigilantism he was willing to tolerate.
To relax it, as Theodosius did in the Callinicum case, sent disturbing
signals of an emperor's willingness to tolerate breaches of public order
in the name of religion.
Realistically, an emperor had to tolerate quite a lot, for by modern
standards the arsenal he had at his disposal for such moments was alar
mingly barren. Ordinarily, emperors relied on an elaborately con
structed web of ceremony and local ties to keep the peace. When that
40Ambrose gives his version of the event in a letter to his sister, Ep. 76 (20), in Zelzer (1982).
McLynn (1994: 170-196) views the record with a gimlet eye. On the importance of the Portian
basilica, see Colish (2002).
4'The connection between elite culture and popular control has been summed up succinctly by
Swain (2004: 357): "[G]roup cohesion guaranteed power over the masses. The masses participated
in the same system, and elite power depended on this participation." On the role of the bishop, see
Chadwick (1980), Bowersock (1986), Brown (2002), and Rapp (2005). Fowden (1978) remains an
important study.
2On possible administrative motives for Constantine's endowments, see Drake (2000: chap. 8).
43Caraeron (1973: 237) observes that, as a consequence of this decline, "[m]inor disturbances of
the sort an experienced and efficient corps of law-enforcement officers could have settled without
difficulty might mushroom into a major riot." Bradbury (1994) suggests that many imperial laws
were never meant to be enforced, but simply to set a tone.
^For a critical discussion of the sources for this event and its implications, see McLynn (1994:
315-330).
45Brown (1992: 35-70) discusses the delicate handling such situations required.
460n the sacredness of imperial statues, see MacCormack (1981: 67), Smith (1997), and
Ellingson (2003). More generally, Niemeyer (1968). On the riot, Browning (1952) remains a solid
introduction.
47Libanius, Or. 19.45, ed. and trans. Norman (1977: II, 296-297). On flight from the city, see Or.
23 in the same volume.
penalties that included closing the city's popular leisure sites (baths,
theaters, hippodrome) and suspending its metropolitan status, which
meant the loss of significant prestige and privilege. The commissioners
identified and arrested several ringleaders, then sent their report and
recommendations to the emperor. Simultaneously, Antioch's bishop,
Flavian, hastened to the capital to plead for mercy. While the city
waited for news of the decision on which its fate hung, Flavian's lieute
nant, the charismatic John Chrysostom, delivered a series of sermons
that alternately stoked and calmed their fears.48
The denouement was anti-climactic, Theodosius contenting himself
with the execution of the ringleaders. Still, the importance of such thea
trics as played out in Antioch must not be underestimated. After centu
ries of empire, theorists had long abandoned discussing the traditional
categories of political analysis (monarchy, aristocracy, democracy) to
concentrate on the only form of government that still seemed viable,
monarchy.49 Accordingly, instead of debating the merits of different
kinds of rule, theorists now concentrated on the merits of the ruler,
whose virtues were analyzed with the same care formerly given to dis
cussing the merits of the different kinds of governments. Accordingly,
an emperor's most powerful asset was his prestige, bolstered by his
image as an all-powerful ruler capable of administering terrible
justice.50
This concentration on imperial character explains why prestige
became so overwhelmingly vital for emperors in Late Antiquity. Yet an
emperor put his prestige on the line every time there was a possibility
that an order he gave would not be obeyed. This was therefore an asset
best utilized from afar, through ties to local elites, who regularly burn
ished that image through a constant routine of rituals, ceremonies, and
48Chrysostom, Homilae XXI de Statuis ad populum Antiochenum habitae. Migne (1857), PG 49:
15-222. Trans. Stephens (1889).
49As Cameron (1991: 129) observes, "for Christians and pagans alike in the fourth- and fifth
century empire, writing about government meant writing about an emperor... political theory in
the context of empire entailed panegyric." An exception is an anonymous political tract written
under Justinian in the sixth century, which alludes to contemporary issues in the course of an
apparently archaizing discussion; ed. Mazzuchi (2002), trans. Bell (2009: 123-188). For its
contemporary relevance, Whitby (2006). See further O'Meara (2002). A better contrast is with
Muslim theorists, who continued to debate the traditional categories, though even here it is clear
that the discussion was entirely academic. See Schiitrumpf (2004) and Crone (2004).
50The locus classicus for discussion of the three states is Book 8 of Plato's Republic, echoed by
his student Aristotle in Politics, Book 4. In the second-century BCE, the historian Polybius in Book
6 of The Histories modified this model by positing that the various types succeeded each other in
an inevitable "cycle of constitutions" that he then used to explain Rome's success in conquering
the entire Mediterranean. See in general von Fritz (1954) and Podes (1991). On ancient kingship
theory, Aalders (1969), Lassandro (2000), and Kolb (2000).
51Under Constantine, Bishop Eusebius of Caesarea, the celebrated "Father of Church History,"
showed that Christians were ready to play this game with a panegyric for the emperor's Thirtieth
Jubilee in 336 that juggled the traditional imperial virtues—bravery, justice, clemency, and piety—
in such a way as to emphasize Constantine's piety and project the image of a Christian empire in
which the emperor ruled as a visible manifestation of the Supreme Ruler. See Laus Constantini
(LC) chaps. 1-10, ed. Heikel (1902: 195-223, trans. Drake (1976: 83-102). The remaining chapters
(11-18) are part of a separate address. See Drake (1976: 30-44). Baynes (1934) is an important,
though overstated appreciation of this oration's place in Greek and Byzantine political thought.
See also Maraval (2001: 36-67). On imperial virtues, Wallace-Hadrill (1981) and Norena (2001). In
general, Cameron (1991) and Lassandro (2000).
52Ep. 74 (40). 11 in Zelzer (1982): Sed disciplinae te ratio, imperator, movet. Quid igitur est
amplius? disciplinae species an causa religionis? Cedat oportet censura devotioni. My trans.
Liebeschuetz and Hill (2005: 101) translate the final phrase more circumspectly: "Severity ought to
give way to devotion."
afterlife. The two spheres can, and do, overlap, particularly on questions
of moral behavior, but in general today we define catastrophes such as
famine, fire, or flood as "natural disasters" rather than as signs of divine
intervention.53
The ancient state was founded on an entirely different set of premises:
that divinity did actively intervene in human affairs on a day-to-day basis,
that these interventions manifested themselves not just in the bounty of
crops but also in victory or defeat on the battlefield, and that it was the
primary duty of the leaders of the state to assure that such interventions
would be beneficial. When the gods were offended, they punished the
entire community, not just the perpetrators; it was therefore incumbent
upon civic leaders to maintain the goodwill of the gods. Under such cir
cumstances, it is misleading to classify divine service as strictly a "reli
gious" function, doubly so in the case of the Roman emperor, whose
offices since the time of Augustus, the first emperor, included that of pon
tifex maximus, head of the state religion. This worldview explains pagan
persecution of Christians far better than the one, preferred by Gibbon
and others, that Christians brought it upon themselves by their rigid
intolerance.54 Disaster was so regularly a cause of Christian persecution in
the second century that the apologist Tertullian could mock it in an
Apology addressed to the emperor: "If the Tiber floods, or if the Nile
doesn't," he observed in this famous passage; "if there is a drought or an
earthquake, a famine or a plague, suddenly the cry goes up 'Christians to
the lion!"'55 These persecutions serve as a reminder not to read religious
conflicts in the ancient world through clearly defined categories of
"Church" and "State," because in the ancient world these spheres were
deeply intertwined: the ancient "state" was also a religious institution, a
"church." It is not at all clear that the conceptual categories needed to dis
tinguish between "Church" and "State" even existed.
Constantine's Vision of the Cross changed the deity, but did not
change the landscape. This continuity is best illustrated by comparing
the language of one of the most ardent of Christianity's persecutors
early in the fourth century with an edict issued more than a century
later by the Christian emperor Theodosius II, "Against Jews,
53For a succinct discussion of the "secularization theory" and its effect on modern concepts of
"public/private religion," see Casanova (1994) esp. 11-39. I am grateful to the JAAR's reviewers for
calling this work to my attention.
54See, e.g., Gibbon (1909-14, II: 87), "But the princes and magistrates of ancient Rome were
strangers to those principles which inspired and authorized the inflexible obstinacy of the
Christians in the cause of truth."
55Apol. 40, ed. Dekkers (1954): Si Tiberis ascendit in moenia, si Nilus non ascendit in arva; si
caelum stetit, si terra movit; si fames, si lues, statim Christianos ad leonem!
56pianda est superni numinis veneranda maiestas. Nov. Th. 3.8, ed. Mommsen and Meyer (1962:
2: 7-11), trans. Pharr et al. (1952: 490). Daia's edict is recorded in Eus., HE 9.7.8, trans. McGiffert
(1890: 361).
57The classic article is Nock (1947). On the importance of consensus in late Roman political
thought, see Lim (1995). On changes in imperial religion, Haas (1983), Rives (1999), and Selinger
(2004).
58Ambrose gave a detailed account of the event in a letter to his sister: Ep. extra collectionem 1
(41). 27 in Zelzer (1982): Ubi descendi ait mihi: 'De nobis proposuisti.' "Nobis" is usually translated
as a "royal we" ("you were talking about me") but the point of Ambrose's sermon that Theodosius
evidently got was his stress on the relationship between David and Nathan, which makes "us"
more appropriate. I am grateful to Emily Albu for this suggestion.
so easily speaks volumes about the changes that were taking place in
the ancient power structure.59
Underlying the freedom of speech that Ambrose exercised on this
occasion was a significant political shift. Under the Principate, senators
occasionally were able to assert such freedom because of the central
role their institution played in confirming imperial legitimacy. With the
legalization of Christianity, and more importantly, with the role
Christianity increasingly played in confirming the emperor's legitimacy,
bishops—especially bishops like Ambrose with Senatorial backgrounds—
began to assert their own corporate interests. In this particular sense,
Christian bishops had co-opted both the legitimating role and the strong
corporate identity that had characterized the Senate under the
Principate.60 What this conflict shows, therefore, is that the new situation
created by Constantine was not that religion was more important in gov
ernment affairs than it had been before, but that the emperor now shared
with bishops the responsibility for maintaining this crucial relationship
with divinity. Since jurisdiction over sacred matters was now being
shared, the approval of bishops became central to an emperor's legiti
macy. As bishops jockeyed for control of sacred office with emperors,
imaginative re-use of the concepts of martyrdom and persecution became
potent weapons. In this post-Constantinian world, religious violence is
best seen as part of a larger negotiation.
NATIONAL SECURITY
59On this change, see now McLynn (2004: 270): "The changing ceremonial interactions bet
emperors and bishops might indeed prove as important for an understanding of this relatio
[between 'State' and 'Church'] as the more narrowly political, or the more abstract ideolog
trajectories that are charted in the standard accounts."
60This is probably the best meaning to assign to Constantine's enigmatic assertion to be "bish
of those outside" (episkopos tdn ekton) the Church (Eus., VC 4.24)—that he was creatin
himself a position that would allow him to function as primus inter pares in the episcopate, ju
earlier emperors had shared in the corporate identity of the Senate. See Drake (2000: 225-231).
of the dominant Mazdaen faith. At first, all Yazdgard asked was restitu
tion, but when Abdas refused, Yazdgard sent the bishop to the gallows
and ordered the destruction of his church. Christians in Persia never
again enjoyed the license they had been given by Yazdgard.61 The situ
ation virtually shouts for comparison with Theodosius's handling of the
destruction of the synagogue in Callinicum. Like the bishop of
Callinicum, Abdas engaged in an act of property damage, and in both
cases a bishop spurned a demand for restitution. But whereas
Theodosius backed down in the face of Ambrose's threats, Yazdgard's
response was swift and unequivocal. What accounts for the difference?
The motives of the perpetrators are not the issue: Abdas and the
unnamed bishop of Callinicum might have been intolerant or simply
foolish; in either case, they merely represent the violent elements that
are at large in any society. Instead, what matters in both cases is the
ruler's response. In both cases that response was determined at least in
part by pressure from influential clergy. While their aims were different—
Ambrose to defend, the Mazdaeans to punish the offender—both suc
ceeded not because one ruler was more or less intolerant than the other
but because in each case the clergy spoke for a religious establishment
whose role in validating the ruler's legitimacy could not be ignored.
While the bishop of Callinicum benefited from the institutional role of
his religion, Abdas's role in confirming Yazdgard's rule was negligible
compared with that played by the Mazdaean clergy.
The Persian example shows how broadening the study of religious
violence in Late Antiquity to include social and political issues can help
us understand both the violence itself and the role of intolerance in its
occurrence. It is useless to ask whether Theodosius was more or less
intolerant than Yazdgard. The difference is not that Theodosius was
intolerant, but that he was compromised. Like the Mazdaen clergy,
Christian bishops in Late Antiquity came to play an important role in
legitimating an emperor's rule. It is true that emperors learned to
burnish their credentials with this constituency by taking, or allowing
others to take, aggressive action against perceived enemies: then as now,
it was easier to fend off militants by supporting their agenda than to
offer a reasoned alternative. But rather than simply accept these actions
as the inevitable result of intolerance, it is more useful to ask how
61Theodoret, HE 5.38, ed. Scheidweiler and Parmentier (1954). There are reasons to doubt this
account. See Van Rompay (1995). McDonough (2008a) sees the story as a means of exonerating
Yazdgard. For Yazdgard's relations with Christian clergy and use of bishops in his administration,
see McDonough (2006, 2008b). Gaddis (2005: 197-201) considers the same episode for what it
reveals about Christian martyrdom.
militants were able to make such demands in the first place. The answer
is complex, but one part of it certainly resides in deep-seated Christian
anxieties about a return to persecution, revived in part by Julian, but
even more by the hardening of boundaries that followed in his wake.
More elastic definitions of martyrdom and persecution allowed militants
to seize control of a discourse that had previously been deployed in
support of freedom of worship and passive suffering.62
The situation was exacerbated by the novel powers of Christian
clergy, which clashed with the traditional prerogatives of Roman emper
ors. In the eastern empire, very strict protocols eventually were devel
oped that clearly delineated the rights and obligations of both emperors
and bishops in a way that maintained the emperor's charismatic auth
ority in the Christian community and blunted episcopal pretensions.
But in the west the dissolution of imperial authority prevented such a
modus vivendi from being achieved until relatively recent times, and
then only by making a radical conceptual break with the premises of
the ancient state.63 In the interim, confusion about their relative roles
made it easier for bishops to conflate civic with religious disobedience
and correspondingly more difficult for Christian emperors to punish
civic crimes performed in the name of religion.
Although it sounds chillingly clinical to say so, the religious violence
of Late Antiquity is best understood as a means of working out these
new relationships. Until that happened, imperial legitimacy too easily
became hostage to extremist criteria.
REFERENCES
62For an argument that converts best protected themselves from suspicion by demanding
aggressive action against their former views, see Drake (1998).
3Ironically, the failure to achieve a modus vivendi led western scholars to label the eastern
system "Caesaropapism." For a shrewd dissection of this term, see Dagron (2003), esp. chap. 9; for
the role of ceremony, idem, chaps. 2-3 and McCormick (1985).
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