Last summer I made a commitment to read Edward
Gibbon’s timeless and seminal text Decline
and Fall of the Roman Empire, and was able to complete the first two (out
of six) volumes. This initial reading imparted lessons on the qualities of good
leadership and on the causes of imperial growth and decay (my analysis of
volumes one and two can be found here). Another important theme was the
Christianization of Rome, a cultural and political revolution the scope and
breadth of which has few parallels elsewhere in the annals of human history. I
had the privilege of studying volumes three and four in August 2018, while in
Italy, the territory which is at the centre of Gibbon’s masterpiece. In these
sections, Decline and Fall places
much more emphasis on Rome’s Christianization, documenting how this religion’s
humble and revolutionary beginnings became corrupted by political power,
fanaticism, and irreconcilable theological quarrels. On the basis of the
textual evidence presented by Gibbon, one may conclude that Christianity is the
direct cause of Rome’s fall; its enfeebling effects destroyed citizens’ martial
spirit, making them no match against the ferocious and fecund Germanic
barbarians who descended from their huts in the northern forests. But Gibbon’s
arguments are more nuanced. My reading of volumes three and four is that
Christianity hastened, but did not cause, Rome’s downfall. Rather, the collapse
was the inevitable outcome of expansion, domination, growth, and prosperity. As
Romans become richer and more powerful, luxury and pleasure, rather than virtue
and honour, became reigning preoccupations, enervating the citizenry
particularly vis-à-vis the Germanic tribes which eventually sacked the capital
city and irreversibly extinguished the institutions established by Romulus,
Rome’s founder, 1163 years prior.
In this essay I will begin by examining Gibbon’s
presentation of the evolution of Christianity in the late imperial period,
particularly via the lives of Christian emperors Theodosius and Justinian.
Germanic barbarians, especially the Goths, Vandals, Huns, Franks, and
Ostrogoths will also be the subject of analysis, as they deservedly receive
considerable space in the Decline and
Fall. Not only did they invade, occupy, and divide Roman provinces; they
also became Romanized, adopting Christianity and elements of classical learning,
creating a hybrid civilization of which Europe is the descendant. Throughout, I will try to be faithful to the
evidence presented by Gibbon and trace the elements which fatally weakened the
empire, arguing that success contains within it the seeds of its own destruction—a
lesson for all political experiments, ancient and present. Concluding sections
will evaluate the Persian-Roman wars which undermined both civilizations and
which set the stage for Islam’s triumph in the seventh century.
The Cross becomes Corrupted
As Gibbon minutely details in the first two volumes, Rome’s
universalist orientation made it tolerant of the multitudinous religions across
its vast territory. Christianity was one of the few religions in the empire
that was brutally suppressed. As it spread rapidly by the proselytizing
activities of its adherents (or Nazarenes, as they were then called), Roman
authorities—correctly, it turns out—viewed it as an existential threat to Rome’s
pagan-based order. Christians preached the metaphysical equality of humans, an
affront to the natural hierarchy presumed by the pagans; they also disdained
the riches and pleasures of the world, embraced poverty and hardship,
obstinately refused to participate in the pagan festivals which formed an
essential part of civic life, and abjured political activity, from voting to
military service. They were uncompromising; rather than renounce their faith
they were willing to be torn to pieces by beasts in the colosseum. In this
phase of the revolution, the baser motives of lucre or power were mostly
absent; it was driven by a puritanical drive to save mankind from sin and
hellfire. Their willingness to suffer and die for their beliefs in front of
tens of thousands of spectators in the colosseum helped to spread the faith
among pagans, who were impressed by the bravery and courage of the martyrs.
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| Where Christians were martyred |
This in itself is
astonishing for contemporary Western readers, most of whom have been raised in
a context of skepticism and relative material comfort and cannot imagine dying
for an ideal. But for the purposes of this essay, what matters is that, as with
other revolutionary movements, Christianity was soon corrupted by its own
success. Initially it was purely idealistic, perhaps because it spread rapidly
among women, slaves, and the poor. A major shift occurred when wealthy and
politically powerful nobles began to convert; at this stage, the baser motive
of material ambition began to influence adherents’ activities. When emperor
Constantine converted on his deathbed, Christianity had reached the pinnacle of
global power, although at this stage it was too late for him to implement a
Christian state. Theodosius was arguably the first truly Christian emperor in
the sense that he fully fused the law making powers of the imperial office with
the new religion. Unsurprisingly, possession of absolute political power over a
vast and diverse empire, and belief in absolute religious truth, shook the
empire’s foundations to the core.
Although Theodosius
preserved the architectural gems of antiquity, he began the process of
extirpating paganism by systematically persecuting its adherents. Pagan
practices such as sacrificing animals, and trying to divine the will of the
gods by observing their entrails, became a crime of high treason, punishable by
death. Idolatry, or ceremonies involving household gods, became punishable with
fines. Pagans still enjoyed freedom of speech and other civil rights, but the
laws against their religious practices were rigidly executed and, according to
Gibbon, “contributed to the destruction of a religion which was supported by
custom rather than argument. So rapid, and yet so gentle, was the fall of
paganism that only 28 years after the death of Theodosius, the faint and minute
vestiges were no longer visible to the eye of the legislator.”
Christianity’s
early idealistic and humble origins also were compromised by theological
quarrels over the nature of Christ. The Council of Nice presided by Constantine
established the doctrine of the trinity—God, Jesus, and Holy spirit were
separate but unified and consubstantial. The main heresy was Arianism, which
presumed that Jesus the Son was separate from, and not equal to, God the Father.
As this quarrel could not be settled with argument alone, political power was
instrumentalized in the dispute. Theodosius viewed Arians as a threat and aimed
to extinguish their beliefs. Between AD 380-394, he punished Arian teachers
with exile or the confiscation of property. Their meetings, whether public or
secret, were banned. Theodosius was not successful in stamping out Arianism,
perhaps because it was the version of Christianity adopted by the Goths who
would later rule Roman territories.
Despite Gibbon’s
fierce criticism of Christianity at this stage in its evolution, he speaks
favourably of the Christian emperor Theodosius mainly because he was the last
Roman prince who enjoyed universal authority across a unified empire, and
partly because he was willing to lead by example by leading his soldiers in the
field of battle. The ascension to power of his sons, Arcadius and Honorius, represents
a significant shift towards Rome’s decline.
Both were insular and did not possess their fathers’ courage or
political engagement. They furthered the already existing internal division
between the East and West; Arcadius ruled Eastern territories of Thrace (modern
day Bulgaria and Greece) Asia Minor (modern day Turkey), Syria and Egypt, while
Honorius was master of Italy, Africa (modern day Tunisia), Gaul (modern day
France), Spain, and Britain. Although both considered themselves Romans, this
formal political division became permanent and fatally weakened Rome just as
Germanic barbarians were gaining in strength and numbers.
Ferocious and Warlike Germans
It was the Goths who dealt the first blow. Led by
Alaric, they were unsatisfied with their subordinate role in the empire. During
the reign of Theodosius, they received annual tributes and their soldiers were
integrated in the Roman armed forces, policies which secured the peace. Alaric
likely had designs for conquest but while the redoubtable Theodosius reigned,
he avoided directly challenging Rome. The assumption to power of Arcadius and
Honorius changed Alaric’s calculations; he saw an opening because the empire
was now divided between two weak and insular siblings who lacked the courage
and authority of their father. He was correct; upon hearing of Alaric’s
impending invasion, Honorius, rather than leading the troops to fight him (as
his father would have), fled to Ravenna and left Stilichos, a Roman general,
with the responsibility to defend the nation. Initially Stilichos succeeded in
repelling the attack, but with much difficulty partly because he could not
raise sufficient numbers of soldiers and relied on disloyal Germanic
mercenaries. Alaric ultimately triumphed and Rome’s humiliation was complete when
he sacked the capital city. The slaughter was merciless, partly because Alaric
had the assistance of many Germanic slaves who detested their Roman masters and
conspired with him. Rome,
the city which, through the force of arms, spread law and literature to the far
ends of its vast empire, was now at the tender mercy of illiterate and
ferocious Germans.
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| Germanic destroyers of Rome |
Rome’s
travails were only beginning. The wealthy Roman province of Africa (modern day
Tunisia), which supplied the grain and corn that helped sustain the population
and growth of the capital, was threatened by Vandals led by the ferocious
barbarian Genseric. In 428 he had already settled on the coast, but on their
own the Vandals were still insufficiently strong. The Germans were approached
by the Moors (Berbers); the initial interaction of these two peoples who had
never seen each other—one composed of tall, blue eyed, and faired haired
Germans from northern forests, the other of locals with a smaller stature and
olive complexion—was likely challenging because they did not speak each other’s
language. After the initial difficulty, they discovered a mutual interest in
wanting to defeat the Romans and quickly formed an alliance. The Moorish-German
battalion defeated Roman troops and surrounded Hippo, the city inhabited by
Saint Augustine, who witnessed the ensuing destruction; his timeless work The
City of God was strongly influenced by this experience of witnessing an old
order collapsing and a new one arising. (These events, Augustine correctly
recognized, put to rest the fantasy held by many that Rome was favoured by the
gods and was destined to forever rule mankind. It demonstrated that even the
most powerful and advanced empires will, eventually, fall like a house a cards).
Alaric
and Genseric were mild compared to Attila the Hun, who instilled terror in the
hearts, not only of Romans, but also of other Germanic barbarians. The Huns
came from Scythia (contemporary Northeastern Europe), and adored Mars, the god
of war; but as they were incapable of forming an abstract idea or a corporeal
representation of their deity, they represented it as, and worshipped, an iron butcher knife. Attila was able to amass an army of 700 thousand
illiterate, warlike, and fierce soldiers; he successfully invaded Eastern Roman
territories, but was repelled in Gaul by the Franks. When he invaded Italy, he
found an exhausted people; the damage the Huns could have inflicted in Italy
was prevented by intervention of Pope Leo, who appealed to Attila’s nobler
sentiments. The deliverance of Italy was also purchased by giving Attila the beautiful
Roman princess Honoria, which he gladly added to his already vast harem.
Before examining
the textual evidence presented by Gibbon on the ultimate cause of these
tragedies, it is worthwhile to consider the historical significance of the
German triumph. Rome, a city founded by a humble Latin shepherd in 753 BC,
might have remained, like most other ancient cities, insular and provincial.
Instead it founded an empire with a universalist orientation based on
citizenship and law. The Roman constitution was a major achievement,
reconciling the principles of aristocracy and democracy by balancing the
representation of the masses (plebeians) and the nobles (Senate) with the
magistrates and executive. It was non-racial; indeed, modern concepts of race
were alien to Romans. It offered citizenship to conquered peoples and accepted
their gods into the pantheon of Roman deities. Roman engineering, art, law, and
literature were spread around its territories in Western Europe, North Africa,
and Asia minor. The capital was a magnet for merchants, workers, and others
with ambition; at its peak, it housed and fed a million inhabitants, and no
city during antiquity came close to this size. When the empire was strong, it
was able to conquer and subdue its Germanic enemies, many of whom became Roman
citizens and were fully integrated into the fabric of the empire.
Something
dramatic and transformational occurred which allowed the Germans to overturn
this millennial and unprecedented political experiment. One reading of the Decline and Fall is that Christianity is
ultimately the cause. This explanation would confirm the observation of Rome’s
pagan authorities who decided to persecute Christians because they viewed them
as a major internal threat which would weaken the empire. Gibbon cites many
factors that support this thesis. One is that Christians, unlike pagans, were
more concerned with the next world than the present one. Rome’s pagan citizens,
in contrast, were animated by pride in Rome’s achievements, in the wish to
further them, and in the universalist orientation of their civilization which,
they believed, was meant for all mankind, not only Latins. Early Christians saw
only human vanity in this attempt for earthly glory; their greatest aspiration
was the eternal bliss and majesty of heaven.
As the religion
spread among Romans, internal divisions were created which were favourable to
the barbarians. Christianity eventually reached the summit of political power, and
as pagans were more and more oppressed, they were inclined to cheer for the
Germanic hordes who crushed their Christian masters. Another aspect of
Christianity that Gibbon cites as fatal was the establishment of monasteries.
Originating in Egypt, this new institution was organized around asceticism, a
contempt towards material achievement, and blind submission, or absolute
obedience, to the Abbot. Athanasius brought this practice to Rome, and shortly
after it spread across the empire, and attracted multitudes of men and women
who devoted themselves to a life of meditation, solitude, and self-denial.
Gibbon is particularly contemptuous of this institution because the servile
obedience extinguished the freedom without which honour and virtue—the basis of
Roman greatness according to Polybius—cannot develop. The men and women who
fled to these monasteries often were motivated by poverty or distress and found
relief from the food, shelter, and community of their fellow monks; but their
commitment to monastic life contributed to fewer people willing to have
children and fewer numbers of citizens willing to fight for the empire.
But
other factors challenge the argument that Christianity is the main cause of
Rome’s decline. The warlike Germanic barbarians, such as Alaric, Clovis, and
Generic, who invaded and occupied Roman territories were Christians themselves
or soon converted; adopting this religion evidently did not undermine their
martial spirit or the fecundity of their troops. Some of the most talented
Roman generals who scored major victories against the barbarians (Stilichos,
Belisarius) were also Christians. The barbarian kingdoms which later formed on
Roman territories were Christian but they did not necessarily display the
pathologies of Rome in the late imperial period; in some cases, such as the
Ostrogoth Theodoric’s reign in Italy, these German Christians oversaw an efflorescence
and revival of the best features of Roman civilization. The demographic decline
which weakened the empire can be imputed to some extent to the popularity of
monasteries. But a more important cause was wealth and luxury, which Gibbon
repeatedly says produced a “pusillanimous indolence” among soldiers and
citizens alike.
As
Romans became wealthy, they increasingly become concerned with enjoying the
pleasures of the present and avoiding hardship and sacrifice. Consequently,
they lost the martial spirit that allowed them to subdue Europe and Asia. One
immediate result was fewer Romans who were willing to embrace the rigors and
stresses of military life; previously, each Roman male was required to complete
ten years of military service, and as the empire became more decadent, many
wealthy families purchased exemptions from this obligation, forcing generals to
rely on mercenaries motivated by profit rather than the ideals of Rome. And it
was Germans who filled this military lacuna. They were not loyal, and were in
fact a fifth column; when circumstances were right, they would turn against
their Roman employer. When Alaric invaded, for example, he could rely on a
large contingent of Gothic mercenaries who would abandon their Latin patrons
and join the German effort. The Goths’ conquest of Italy also illustrates this
point. Rome, or at least the Western empire, was finally and permanently
extinguished when the Gothic Odoacer conquered the capital; this was made
possible because the Germanic mercenaries who had previously fought for Rome
fled to Odoacer when he promised them a third of Roman territories in exchange
for joining his campaign.
Gibbon
cites Greek scholars who documented Roman decadence. Priscus was so
contemptuous of Rome that he decided to join the Huns, and even rose in their
ranks. His literacy and erudition allowed him to observe and document some of
the cultural differences between the Huns and the Romans. The former were
motivated by glory and were willing to risk their lives for its attainment.
Conversely, says Priscus, Roman princes were no longer willing to lead the
fight as their predecessors had done (this is clearly evident in the example of
Honorius who fled Rome to avoid fighting the Goths). Roman officials, from tax
collectors to magistrates, were also increasingly motivated by lucre and were
captured by the wealthy, leading to corruption which increased inequalities,
creating the need for more laws which contradicted previous ones and which made
the justice system even more complicated and dysfunctional. Under these
conditions, many Latin Romans welcomed the Germanic barbarians.
It
follows that the primary cause of Rome’s fall was internal not external; even
if Germanic barbarians did not invade, the domestic rot would have inevitably
led to collapse of some sort—either through civil war, or demographic decline,
or the extinction of Republican institutions. The Germans who hastened
Rome’s fall perhaps did not recognize that they would be destined to become
acculturated by their more numerous and advanced subjects and, in the process,
to preserve major elements of Roman civilization.
Romanization of Germans
Although the formal institutions of the Western part
of the empire were expired by the barbarian invasions, elements of Roman
civilization endured thanks to the Christianization of the German occupiers.
This process began well before barbarians successfully invaded. During their
intermittent warfare, many Romans were taken captives by the Germans and
subsequently lived in their camps, where they made an effort to spread the
gospel—an arduous task when one considers that the Germans were mostly
illiterate, did not speak Latin, and had difficulty grasping theological
abstractions. To facilitate their conversion, the gospel was translated to
their native Teutonic tongue. Notable in this regard was Ulphilas, who mastered the
Goths’ German language and invented an alphabet to compose it, which involved
inventing four new letters to express sounds that did not exist in Greek or
Latin. This allowed him to translate the gospel and convert the Germans. In the
process, he introduced them to literature and conceptual abstraction, which
opened the possibility of acquiring the art, literature, and architecture of
the classical antiquity. The works of Virgil, Cicero and Livy were now
accessible to the Germans; their children could become educated in some of the
greatest and timeless works of classical antiquity.
Another
notable change was the adoption of Roman law and jurisprudence, which
introduced concepts and practices which were wholly alien to the Germans. Particularly
in Gaul (modern day France) the Germans’ system of justice deserves the
appellation “barbaric”. In cases of murder, penalties depended on the status of
the victim, and the perpetrator could escape justice if he paid a fine. The
Franks calculated that peasants’ lives were worth a fraction of a nobles’, and
hence if the former was murdered, the perpetrator paid less. In other cases, personal
revenge was encouraged as a speedy execution of justice. During disputes over matters which required
the intervention of a third party, illiterate judges would hear the accounts of
the plaintiff and the defendant, and rather than rationally weighing evidence
in light of established and abstract rules, the barbarian judge would accept
mortal combat between the contestants (incidentally, this is the origin of duels, a practice
which would persist well into the 19th century). If one of the
parties declined to fight, his claim would be rejected because, the barbarians
believed, cowards were dishonourable and hence could not be credible. And when
combat proceeded, the victor was deemed to be favoured by the gods and
pronounced as winner in the trial. It does not take much imagination to
recognize that this oppressive justice system excluded the weak, sick, aged,
and others who lacked the strength to defend their claim against a physically
stronger opponent. By becoming literate, and embracing Roman law, Germans
learned how to record general and abstract rules that were equally applicable
to all citizens, and developed the capacity to rationally evaluate evidence in
light of the law.
Romanization
was very uneven, and Gibbon demonstrates this with the comparison of Gaul and
Britain. After the Franks occupied the Roman province of Gaul, imitation and
social intercourse led, within the space of a lifetime, to their almost
complete Romanization. Franks—ancestors of the French—adopted Catholicism,
Roman jurisprudence, and became well versed in Roman art and literature. One
Greek historian who travelled to Gaul in the late fourth century observed that
he could barely recognize any difference between the Franks and Romans. The
contrast with Britain is significant. After the Roman conquest, Latin,
literature, and art were transmitted to this insular island. When Rome
collapsed, it was the Saxons who invaded Britain. Unlike the Franks, they did
not Romanize. Rather, they extinguished the Roman heritage, and consequently,
Britain returned to its original pre-Roman state of under-development. Gibbon’s
answer to the puzzle of why this occurred in Britain and not Gaul is that the
former was insufficiently Romanized despite being a Roman province for four
centuries; under these conditions, the Saxons could easily impose their
culture. And since Gaul was deeply
Romanized, the conquering Franks—via marriage, trade, and imitation—insensibly
adopted the culture of their subjects. If Gibbon were alive, he might say that
Britain’s weak European identity and France’s deeply rooted European
orientation may be traced to these distant events.
Some barbarian
kings were quite virtuous and clearly impressed Gibbon. One in particular is the
Ostrogoth Theodoric, who defeated the Gothic king Odoacer and reigned in Italy
for 33 years. Under his rule, peace and prosperity returned to the country.
Justice was efficient and impartial, and civil rights were protected. Trade
increased, and the loss of Africa, which removed Rome’s major source of food,
was replaced with the produce of the fertile soils of Sicily and Calabria. He
was sensitive to the needs of the poor, and distributed meat and grain which
relieved their distress. As trade and wealth increased, Rome once again became
a magnet for merchants and others with material ambition. Theodoric was an adherent of the Arian
heresy, and most Italians were Catholic, yet he allowed freedom of worship and
did not attempt to impose his personal theological interpretations on his
subjects. Surviving texts attest to the universal admiration felt for Theodoric
among Italy’s Latin and Catholic inhabitants.
Power shifts Eastward
The Western Roman empire was formally extinguished
when, after Odoacer’s invasion of Italy, the Senate passed a motion which
recognized the new barbarian king and which consented to moving the capital to
Constantinople. The Byzantines displayed the features that Gibbon found so
contemptuous in the West during the late imperial period. Although legally the
Byzantine emperor was the legal descendent of Romulus, the appellation
“Republic of Rome” had little meaning in a political order characterized with
monarchical despotism; the liberty, virtue, and honour which so impressed the
Greek historian Polybius was inconsistent with the servile obedience enforced
by Constantinople. Christianity in the East was an instrument of political power
and hierarchy, a far cry from its humble and revolutionary origins. And it
promoted, says Gibbon, a fanaticism which destroyed the spirit of skepticism,
seriously weakening the influence of Greek rationalism and science. Monks
spread rapidly in Byzantine territories, reducing the numbers of citizens
willing to fight for the empire.
However, Eastern
Rome also demonstrates that Christianity is not necessarily inconsistent with
the pursuit of material ambition in the present world, with improvements of law
and governance, or with military conquest. The court of Justinian receives ample space in
the Decline and Fall perhaps because
it displays all these elements. Justinian had barbarian origins, and rose to
the throne after the death of his uncle Justin. A devout Catholic, Justinian
endeavoured to crush the Arian heresy and to improve the administration of the
empire. The complexity of Byzantine governance was the result of the
accumulation of laws since Rome’s founding, which amounted to over 3 million
lines in the law books. Justinian established a council of experts which reduced
this number to 150 thousand lines, producing the Justinian Code which continued
to be applied well into the modern period. He was also concerned with the beauty
and grandeur of his capital, and the greatest monument to this inclination is
the timeless and resplendent Hagia Sophia, which continues to attract millions
or tourists (I visited in 2014 and can confirm that it is a remarkable
structure). Bridges, aqueducts, and hospitals also were built by Justinian,
infrastructure which assisted the rich and poor alike. Justinian also aimed to recapture
the Western territories lost to the Germans. Unlike his predecessors, he did
not lead by example and appear in the field with his men (Gibbon blames the
East’s Hellenization for this pernicious development). Nonetheless, his
talented general Belisarius successfully captured Italy from the Goths and
Africa from the Vandals. At the peak of this triumph, he obtained half of the
territory that was lost. These conquests were temporary for a variety of
reasons, one of which was that, by then, many Latins actually preferred German
rule.
Justinian
fell in love with the licentious actress Theodora, whose intrigues would rival
those of other Queens of antiquity and the present. He was seduced by her
beauty and charm, but as a member of the royal family, he was legally not
permitted to marry someone of Theodora’s class. To circumvent this, his uncle
Justin changed the law, and they were married. When he became emperor, she was
an equal partner in the governance of the empire, and she had a powerful
influence of Theodosius’s lasting reforms and policies. Despite her devout
Christianity, Theodora had little compunction about assassinating enemies and
using her network of spies and collaborators to threaten and cajole senators
and bishops who disobeyed her commands. She was concerned about the welfare of
her poorer sisters, and converted palaces on the Bosporus to charitable
residences which housed and clothed disadvantaged women; but evidently she did
not want to contemplate the modesty and self-denial practiced by her most
devout co-religionists. Rather, she accumulated riches and enjoyed the luxuries
afforded by her position at the pinnacle of Roman power. Gibbon recounts one
particularly striking example: when she fell ill, she would leave the capital
and travel to a private spa with four thousand assistants who would satisfy her
every whim and need.
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| Justinian and Theodora |
The Eastern Roman
empire survived until 1453, when their capital was conquered and occupied by
the Turks. In other words, the Greek section of the Roman empire survived for
over a thousand years after Rome was sacked and its institutions extinguished, and
it endured despite its Christianity and decadent wealth—supposedly the main
causes of Rome’s collapse. One possible answer to this puzzle is that the
Byzantines benefited from the internal divisions among the barbarians, who,
like their predecessors, were weakened by their own success. The Goths and the
Lombards fought each other for Italy; the fights between the Goths and Vandals
were ferocious, as were the battles between the Franks and Goths. Barbarians
were divided over the spoils of war, especially territory, but as Christians
they were not immune from the theological quarrels which had undermined their
Latin predecessors (the orthodox king of Gaul, Clovis, invaded Italy to fight
the Goths who had embraced the Arian heresy). And while barbarians were
divided, Justinian negotiated peace with the Persian king Chrosoes. It was very
expensive; Chrosoes demanded and received 11 thousand pounds of gold, but in
return Justinian obtained a peace treaty which allowed him to allocate men and
resources to the West to fight the Germans.
The
peace between the Persians and the Byzantines was temporary, however. In 611, Chrosoes
successfully invaded and occupied the Roman territories of Syria and Palestine,
and in 616 took Egypt and Asia Minor. A major prize for the Persians was the holy
city of Jerusalem which, at the time, was overwhelmingly populated by
Christians. Persian armies were strengthened by the addition of Arabs and Jews
who resented the Romans; When this alliance entered the holy city, over ninety
thousand Christians were slaughtered. At the time, of course, Arabs were
pagans, not Muslims, but one of them, a merchant from the obscure city of
Mecca, received a revelation from the angel Gabriel. The prophet Mohamed
subsequently sent a letter to Chrosoes inviting him to embrace Islam or the
face the consequences of impending defeat by the Romans. The incredulous king
ignored Mohammed’s injunction, which he may have later regretted when Mohamed’s
prophecy came true: Byzantines successfully recaptured the territories lost to
the Persians, and the Roman general Heraclius exacted bloody revenge when he
occupied Persia, razed the capital, slaughtered many of its inhabitants, and
destroyed major Zoroastrian temples. These battles were costly and bloody;
Gibbon estimates that around 200 thousand Persians and Romans were killed.
Heraclius’s
humiliation of Persia was temporary; the Persians regathered their strength and
attacked, but at this point Constantinople could repel them. The two empires
were roughly equal in strength, but both were motivated by glory and supremacy,
and aimed to conquer each other’s opulent possessions. Peace between the
Persians and the Eastern Romans was never permanently settled, and during this
existential rivalry, Mohamed had successfully subdued the tribes of Arabia and
unified their territory, establishing a new political order that posed an
existential threat to both the Romans and Persians. When his successors Bakr,
Umar, Uthman, and Ali decided to attack, they greatly benefited from the
divisions between the two ancient and powerful empires. Persia’s final blow
came in 651, while Eastern Rome was finally extinguished in 1453 by the Turks.
The caliphate prevailed, and Arabization proceeded; Romans and Persians
converted to Islam, leading to the marginalization or near extinction of Zoroastrianism
and Eastern Christianity in the lands that today we call the Middle East. This
inter-imperial struggle between Eastern Rome, Persia, and Islam, the last’s
ultimate triumph, and the resulting epochal cultural and political transformation
will be examined on this blog in the summer or 2019, when I will have the
opportunity to read the final volumes of Gibbon’s magisterial book.
