Conquest1453Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society (1997)
Languages of administration
Greek
Latin
Writing system: Greek
Core region
Anatolia and the Balkans
How it was governed
4 of 4 coded
Army raised byHow the fighting force was recruited, not how it fought.
land grantService in return for assigned revenue — iqta', timar, jagir
standing professionalPaid, permanent, recruited and commanded centrally
mercenaryHired for pay, with no standing obligation either way
Haldon, Byzantium in the Seventh Century: The Transformation of a Culture (1997)
Revenue fromWhat the state lived on. The values are unranked: the field cannot express which mattered most.
land taxTax on agricultural production and land
trade tollCustoms, straits dues and caravan levies
Haldon, Byzantium in the Seventh Century: The Transformation of a Culture (1997)
Succession byThe rule in force, not the outcome. A rule repeatedly violated is still the rule.
nominationA designated heir
Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society (1997)
Right to rule fromThe ground publicly asserted — on coins, in the khutba, in titles.
divine sanctionA mandate from above — heaven, or a claim to be mahdi or imam
descentDescent from a house or lineage, publicly invoked
electionChosen by a body entitled to choose
Kaldellis, The Byzantine Republic: People and Power in New Rome (2015)
Each line is drawn from a source that addresses the question directly. A line reads No cited figure where no source consulted does — never because the answer seemed obvious.
Turning points
8 hinges
3951453
636
The YarmukBattle
An Arab army destroyed the eastern field army in the Golan and Syria, Palestine and then Egypt were lost within six years. Two-thirds of the empire's revenue and its entire grain supply went with them. Everything coded in the institutions above is a response to this: the themes, the shrunken coinage, the abandonment of the cities of Anatolia for hilltop fortresses, and a defensive posture on a frontier through the Taurus that held for three hundred years.
Haldon, Byzantium in the Seventh Century: The Transformation of a Culture (1997)
718
The second Arab siege of ConstantinopleSiege
An Umayyad army and fleet blockaded the city for a year and failed, having lost most of the fleet to storms, to a Bulgar attack on the besiegers and to the incendiary weapon known as Greek fire. It is the point at which the empire stops looking like a state in the process of being conquered. The Umayyad caliphate itself dates its own turn away from Constantinople to the same year.
Haldon, Byzantium in the Seventh Century: The Transformation of a Culture (1997)
843
The restoration of the imagesReform
A century and a quarter of official iconoclasm ended with a council and a procession, and the settlement held. It fixed the shape of Orthodox practice, ended the last doctrinal question the emperors tried to decide by decree and lost, and produced the church that the missions to the Slavs forty years later carried outward — a durable Orthodox settlement with a religion still left to propagate.
Whittow, The Making of Orthodox Byzantium, 600-1025 (1996)
1071
ManzikertBattle
The emperor was captured by a Seljuk sultan who did not particularly want Anatolia and released him. What lost Anatolia was the civil war that followed in the empire, during which rival claimants hired Turkish troops and gave them land, and within a decade the plateau that had supplied soldiers and taxes for four centuries was gone. The Great Seljuks won the battle; the empire itself is what lost the province.
Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society (1997)
1176
MyriokephalonBattle
Manuel I marched a large army toward Konya to end the Sultanate of Rum as a threat for good, and pushed it into a narrow pass without clearing the flanking heights first. The Turks cut the baggage train, trapped the army in its own wagons and dead cattle, and destroyed the right wing outright; Manuel escaped but never attempted an offensive war of that scale again, and contemporaries agreed his mind never fully recovered from the defeat. It ended, in a single afternoon, the last Komnenian ambition of restoring Byzantine primacy over Anatolia by conquest.
Finlay, A History of Greece, from its Conquest by the Romans to the Present Time, Vol. III (1854)
1204
The Fourth CrusadeSiege
A crusade diverted by debt and a Venetian fleet took and sacked Constantinople, and the empire broke into a Latin empire and three Greek successor states, of which Nicaea and Trebizond both went on to real independent histories of their own. The city was recovered in 1261 by Nicaea and never recovered its population, its treasury or its independence of Italian credit.
Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society (1997)
1341
The civil warsSuccession crisis
Two civil wars in fifteen years, fought over a regency, in which both sides hired Turkish troops and one of them ferried them into Europe. Serbia took Macedonia and Thessaly while it went on. The Ottomans crossed permanently in 1354. It is the last point at which the empire had a choice about anything, and the choice was made by two men fighting over a child's guardianship.
Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society (1997)
1453
The land walls breachedCatastropheContested
Mehmed II's siege breached the Theodosian land walls on 29 May after fifty-three days, having dragged ships overland into the Golden Horn to get past the chain; Constantine XI died in the fighting and his body was never identified. The difficulty in saying what ended is that the state which fell called itself the empire of the Romans, its people called themselves Romans, and its neighbours agreed - there is no year in which anybody in Constantinople decided to stop being Roman, not this one included, and the division from the state that began at Rome is a periodisation later historians made for their own reasons.
Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society (1997)
Chapters
18 in order · about 38 minutes
The half that did not fall
formationDrafted from Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society (1997)
The two halves of the Roman empire were divided in 395 between two boys and
faced the same century. By 476 the western administration had ceased to exist and
the eastern one had not lost a province.
The difference is not that the east was better governed, and the contemporaries
who thought it was virtue were wrong. It is mostly geography and money.
Four reasons
The western frontier is the Rhine and the upper Danube, running through open
country for well over a thousand kilometres with organised peoples on the far
side of all of it. The eastern land frontier in Europe is the lower Danube and
then, once past it, an attacker faces the Bosphorus. The Persian frontier in the
east was long but faced a state that wanted the same things Rome did and could
be negotiated with. Sasanian Iran spent most of the fifth century at peace with
Constantinople, largely because both were dealing with people coming out of the
steppe.
The east was richer. Egypt, Syria and Asia Minor were the empire's most
productive provinces and the ones least disturbed in the third century. When the
western half lost Africa to the Vandals in 439 it lost its grain and its tax base
at once, and the army it could no longer pay was the army it needed to get them
back.
The east could buy its way out. Constantinople paid the Huns enormous annual
subsidies through the 440s, and paid Goths, Bulgars and Persians at various
points afterwards, and the western half is often criticised for the same policy
when it could afford it less. A rich state that pays is not weaker than a poor
state that fights; it is a rich state.
And the east had one city that could not be taken. Constantine's capital sat on a
peninsula with water on two sides, and in 413 the prefect Anthemius built the
land walls — a triple line with a moat, four and a half miles long — which were
not breached by an enemy for a thousand and forty years.
The land walls of Constantinople. An outer wall, an inner wall and a moat across the one approach by land; no enemy got through them for a thousand and forty years.
Istanbul, Turkey · Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society (1997) · Photograph: Carole Raddato · CC BY-SA 2.0
What the west's fall was
It is worth being precise about how the west was lost, because almost everything
said about it afterwards was said by people who wanted it back.
The western provinces were not conquered in a campaign. Groups already inside the
empire, mostly serving in its armies under their own commanders on the model the
Roman record's last turning point describes, converted their commands into
kingdoms as the central government's ability to pay and to reassign them
disappeared. Britain fell out of the system around 410 and out of the coin
economy within a decade. Africa went in 439. Gaul and Spain were held by treaty
arrangements that became kingdoms without anybody declaring it. In 476 Odoacer
deposed the last western emperor and sent the regalia east with a note saying the
west did not need one.
The eastern government's view of all this, for the following century, was that
the western provinces were temporarily under improper management. The next
chapter is about the emperor who acted on it.
Justinian
expansionDrafted from Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society (1997)
Justinian reigned thirty-eight years from 527 and spent them trying to be the
Roman emperor of the record above this one.
Africa was taken from the Vandals in 534 in a campaign of a few months. Sicily
followed, then Italy, in a war against the Ostrogoths that Belisarius began
briskly in 535 and that then ran for eighteen years, wrecked the Italian
peninsula, depopulated Rome and ended with an exhausted province that could not
pay for its own defence. A strip of southern Spain was taken in 552. At his
death the Mediterranean was again a Roman sea on three sides, and the empire was
at its largest since the fourth century.
What it cost
The eastern frontier was left to be managed by payment: Justinian bought two
peaces from Khusrau I and the second was called the Eternal Peace and lasted
eight years. The Balkans were raided repeatedly by Slavs and by Kutrigurs, once
to the walls of the capital. The taxation required to fund the western wars is
the loudest complaint in the sources — including in the Secret History of
Procopius, who wrote the official campaign narrative and then wrote a second book
calling the emperor a demon.
Theodora at Ravenna, in a church finished in 547. Procopius wrote the official history of these reigns and also a secret one calling the emperor a demon.
Basilica of San Vitale, Ravenna · Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society (1997) · Photograph: Petar Milošević · CC BY-SA 4.0
And in 541 the plague arrived. It reached Constantinople in 542, killed on a
scale the sources describe in the language of catastrophe and modern estimates
cannot fix, and recurred in waves for two centuries. Whatever the number, the
empire that fought the Persians in the 570s was not the empire that had taken
Africa forty years earlier, and the Italy that had been reconquered was taken by
the Lombards within three years of Justinian's death.
What survived him
Two things, and neither is territory.
The law. A commission under Tribonian compressed a thousand years of Roman
jurisprudence into the Code, the Digest, the Institutes and the Novels in six
years. It may be the single most consequential document produced by any European
state: rediscovered in eleventh-century Bologna, it is the foundation of the
civil law tradition that governs most of continental Europe, Latin America and a
good deal else. A legal system is not the kind of thing that shows up in an
account of territory or religion or script, and this one outlasted every empire
that ever used it.
And Hagia Sophia, rebuilt in five years after a riot burned the previous church,
with a dome on pendentives over a nave nobody had attempted to span that way.
It was the largest enclosed space in the world for eight hundred years, it is
what the Rus envoys in the tenth century reported having seen, and it is a
mosque now because of what happened in 1453.
Hagia Sophia. A dome on pendentives over a nave nobody had attempted to span that way; it went up in five years and the first dome fell in twenty.
Istanbul, Turkey · Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society (1997) · Photograph: Osama Shukir Muhammed Amin · CC BY-SA 4.0
The word reconquest
It is worth noticing that nobody at the time called it that.
Justinian's own legislation describes the African campaign as the recovery of
provinces from usurpers, and the legal position throughout was that the western
territories had never stopped being Roman — they had been under people who had
no right to them. The same assumption runs through everything the empire said
about itself: there had been no break, in 395, in 476, or afterwards.
The division of 395 is a bookkeeping convenience, and what it looked like from
the eastern side, a hundred and forty years later, was an army in Carthage.
The last great war of antiquity
peakDrafted from Haldon, Byzantium in the Seventh Century: The Transformation of a Culture (1997)
Between 602 and 628 the eastern Roman empire and Sasanian Iran fought a war that
neither could afford and that destroyed both as they had existed.
The Persians took Syria in 613, Jerusalem in 614 — carrying off the relic of the
True Cross — Egypt by 619, and most of Anatolia. In 626 a Persian army stood on
the Asian shore opposite Constantinople while an Avar and Slav host assaulted the
land walls from Europe, and the city held.
Heraclius then did something no Roman emperor had done for centuries: he took
the field himself, went around the Persian armies rather than through them, and
campaigned into Iran, destroying the fire temple at Ganzak and beating a Persian
army at Nineveh in 627. Khusrau II was overthrown and killed by his own nobles,
the new government made peace, and in 630 Heraclius carried the Cross back into
Jerusalem in procession.
The reverse of a gold solidus of Heraclius: a cross on the steps of Golgotha. He emptied the churches to pay for the war and put the thing he had recovered on the money.
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York · Haldon, Byzantium in the Seventh Century: The Transformation of a Culture (1997) · Metropolitan Museum of Art · CC0
A peak that was not the largest or the strongest
It is not the empire's largest extent, which was Justinian's, a century
earlier. It is not the empire's most effective moment,
which most accounts put three and a half centuries later under Basil II.
It is the last moment at which the two great powers of late antiquity were the
only powers that mattered, and the last Roman victory of the ancient world.
What follows is a different kind of history altogether.
It is worth saying plainly that a thousand-year state does not have one peak.
The empire of the tenth century, described several chapters on, was in most
respects more successful than this one — and it arrived two centuries into what
any account of the seventh and eighth centuries has to call decline. Any single
curve drawn through this much time will be wrong somewhere.
Eight years
The war ended in 628 and the Arab armies took Syria in 636.
The usual observation is that both empires were exhausted, which is true and is
not sufficient — the Sasanian state collapsed entirely and this one did not, and
both were equally exhausted. What can be said with more confidence is narrower.
Twenty-six years of war had wrecked the fiscal apparatus of Syria and Egypt and
had moved the population of both through several changes of government. The
Monophysite Christians of Syria and Egypt had spent a century being coerced over
doctrine by Constantinople, most recently by Heraclius's own attempt to settle
it, and had no particular reason to prefer him. The field armies had been
fighting continuously for a generation.
And nobody in either empire had any idea what was coming, because there was
nothing in the previous four hundred years to suggest that anything could come
out of Arabia.
What happened next was the Arab conquest, and the empire had nothing left to
meet it with.
The empire that lost half of itself and continued
contractionDrafted from Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society (1997)
In 630 Heraclius returned the True Cross to Jerusalem, having just won a
twenty-six year war against Persia that had reached the walls of Constantinople.
Within twelve years Syria, Palestine, Egypt and North Africa were gone.
The losses were catastrophic in a way the numbers understate. Egypt was the grain
supply; Syria and Egypt together were the richest provinces and the demographic
core; and the Monophysite Christian populations of both had spent a century being
persecuted by Constantinople over doctrine and did not, on the whole, resist the
change of ruler. What remained was Anatolia, the Aegean, and a Balkan frontier
that Slavs and Bulgars were crossing at will.
Greek fire, in a twelfth-century manuscript of a Byzantine chronicle. The formula was a state secret and is still not known.
Biblioteca Nacional de España, Madrid · Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society (1997) · Madrid Skylitzes · Public domain
The empire that emerged is a different thing from the one that entered. It was
smaller, poorer, Greek rather than Latin in administration, organised into
military districts — themes — where soldiers held land in exchange for service
because there was no longer cash to pay them, and permanently defensive on a
frontier that ran through central Anatolia for three hundred years.
It also did not fall, which at the time was the surprising outcome. Arab armies
besieged Constantinople in 674–678 and again in 717–718, and both failed - how,
and at what cost to the caliphate's own ambitions in the Mediterranean, is
worth its own telling further on.
The themes
contractionDrafted from Haldon, Byzantium in the Seventh Century: The Transformation of a Culture (1997)
The state that came out of the seventh century paid its army in land because it
no longer had the cash to pay it in coin.
The field armies that retreated out of Syria and Mesopotamia were quartered on
the Anatolian provinces they fell back into, and the districts they occupied
took the armies' names. Thema originally means a body of troops; within a
century it means the province the troops are in, under a general who is also the
civil governor. Soldiers held land, were entered on a register, served from it,
and passed the obligation with the land.
Soldiers in the Madrid Skylitzes. The themes paid an army in land instead of coin, and passed the obligation to serve with the land.
Biblioteca Nacional de España, Madrid · Haldon, Byzantium in the Seventh Century: The Transformation of a Culture (1997) · Madrid Skylitzes · Public domain
Haldon's argument is that nobody designed this. There is no reform, no edict, no emperor's
name attached. It is what an administrative system does when it is retreating and
insolvent, rationalised afterwards into a structure.
The same instrument, five times over
Paying a soldier with the revenue of land instead of with money is the
commonest expedient in medieval government, and the Byzantine themes are the
earliest of the medieval versions.
The Buyid and Seljuk iqta, the Ottoman timar, the later Byzantine pronoia,
the Mamluk system — all of them assign the revenue of land to a soldier in
return for service, and all of them arrive at it independently, from the same
problem: a state that must field cavalry and cannot pay them in coin.
The failure mode is also the same everywhere, and it is visible here from the
tenth century: land held for service becomes land held, the obligation attenuates,
and the great families accumulate the holdings of the smallholders whose service
the system depended on. A long series of tenth-century laws tried to stop the
dynatoi — the powerful — from buying up soldiers' land, and did not.
What else was rebuilt
The tax register survived, and it is the reason the state did.
Everything else about the empire changed between 600 and 700 — the language of
administration went from Latin to Greek, the cities of Anatolia contracted into
hilltop fortresses, the coinage shrank, the senate faded, the consulship ended,
the old provincial structure dissolved — and the land tax went on being assessed
on registered holdings by a central bureau, in coin, without interruption. When
the empire needed to raise armies in the eighth century it could find out who
owed what.
The other thing a shrunken empire had was a capital on the straits, taking ten
per cent on everything that passed. A state reduced to Anatolia and the Aegean
still controlled the only sea route between the Mediterranean and the Black Sea.
Two sieges
The Arabs besieged Constantinople in 674–678 and again in 717–718, and the
second siege's failure is the one that mattered.
Both failed on the walls, on the fleet and on the incendiary weapon the sources
call Greek fire, whose composition is not known and which was a state secret
successfully kept. The 718 siege ended with the Umayyad fleet largely destroyed
by storms and a Bulgar attack on the besieging camp, and the caliphate turned
away from Constantinople for good in the same year.
The Byzantine survival is the single most consequential thing in this period
that did not happen.
The images
contractionDrafted from Whittow, The Making of Orthodox Byzantium, 600-1025 (1996)
Around 726 the emperor Leo III began removing religious images from public
display, and for the next hundred and seventeen years, with a gap, the official
position of the eastern Roman state was that representing Christ and the saints
in painting was idolatry.
A psalter made soon after the controversy ended draws the iconoclasts whitewashing an image of Christ, and puts them in the same posture as the soldiers offering vinegar at the Crucifixion above. The losing side is being written up by the winners.
State Historical Museum, Moscow · Whittow, The Making of Orthodox Byzantium, 600-1025 (1996) · Chludov Psalter, folio 67r · Public domain
The sources for it are almost all written by the winners after 843, which means
the standard narrative — a persecuting emperor, smashed icons, martyred monks —
comes from people with an interest in it having been that. What is reasonably
clear is that images were removed from churches and replaced with crosses and
ornament, that the policy had support in the army and in Anatolia, that it was
reversed in 787, reimposed in 815 and finally abandoned in 843, and that the
emperors who held it were among the most militarily successful of the period.
Why an empire would do this
Several arguments are on the table and none of them is settled.
The theological one is that the second commandment means what it says and that a
church which had spent three centuries arguing about the nature of Christ had
never resolved what it meant to paint him. The political one is that the emperors
who took the position had just watched God hand Syria, Palestine, Egypt and North
Africa to an army whose own position on images was unambiguous, and drew a
conclusion. The institutional one is that icons and the monasteries that held
them were a source of authority the emperor did not control.
The last of those is the one worth dwelling on. An emperor whose right to rule
comes from God has an obvious interest in being the person who says what God
wants. Iconoclasm is the last occasion on which a Byzantine emperor tried to
settle a doctrinal question by imperial decree, and it is the occasion on which
that failed permanently.
The apse of Hagia Eirene in Constantinople, redecorated during the controversy with a cross and nothing else. It is the clearest surviving piece of what the iconoclast decades actually looked like.
Istanbul, Turkey · Whittow, The Making of Orthodox Byzantium, 600-1025 (1996) · Photograph: Dosseman · CC BY-SA 4.0
843
The restoration was a council, a decree and a procession, and the settlement held
for the remaining six hundred years. The Sunday it happened is still kept in the
Orthodox calendar as the Triumph of Orthodoxy.
What was settled that day was not really the images. It was the shape of Orthodox practice was fixed there — a church defined by
its liturgy and its images, in which doctrine is settled by councils and not by
emperors — and that this is the church the missions of the following generation
carried out of the empire.
Everything the empire afterwards exported — the liturgy, the alphabet, the
church order — was fixed in that settlement.
What the emperors kept
It would be wrong to leave this as a defeat for the throne.
The emperor went on appointing and deposing patriarchs, summoning councils,
legislating on church property and being crowned by the patriarch in Hagia
Sophia. What he could not do after 843 was define doctrine. That line — between
controlling the church and deciding what it taught — is where the Byzantine
emperor differed from the Sasanian king of kings and from the caliph, both of
whom claimed the second as well as the first.
The throne that rose
asideDrafted from Cremona, The Works of Liudprand of Cremona (1930)
A north Italian bishop went to Constantinople twice, twenty years apart, and
wrote up both journeys for western readers. The first account is admiring. The
second is one of the most sustained insults in medieval literature. Together they
are the best description there is of how the empire used a room.
The throne room Liudprand described is gone with the rest of the Great Palace. This is the other room the city built to the same purpose, and it still works on visitors the way the lions and the birds were meant to.
Istanbul, Turkey · Cremona, The Works of Liudprand of Cremona (1930) · Photograph: Ronan Reinart · CC BY-SA 3.0
In 949 Liudprand was received by Constantine VII. In front of the throne stood a
gilt bronze tree, its branches full of gilt bronze birds, each of which sang the
cry of its own species. The throne itself was guarded by lions of bronze, or of
wood plated with gold, which beat the ground with their tails and roared with
open mouths and moving tongues. He was brought in on the shoulders of two eunuchs.
As he approached, the lions roared and the birds began to sing. He made obeisance
three times with his face on the floor, and when he lifted his head the emperor —
who had been sitting at a moderate height a moment earlier — had changed his
clothes and was sitting level with the ceiling. Liudprand could not work out how,
and guesses at a device like the one used for lifting the beam of a wine press.
The emperor did not speak to him; the distance, he explains, would have made
conversation unseemly, so a secretary asked after his master's health on the
emperor's behalf.
And then the line that gives the whole apparatus away. I was neither terrified
nor surprised, for I had previously made enquiry about all these things from
people who were well acquainted with them.
That is what the machinery was for and what it was worth. An audience at
Constantinople was a designed experience, and the design was well enough known
that a competent envoy could be briefed on it in advance and sit through it
unmoved — while still, twenty years later, describing every part of it in order.
The second embassy, in 968, was to Nikephoros Phokas on behalf of Otto I, and it
failed. Liudprand's account of it is an act of revenge. He is kept waiting,
lodged badly, lectured, and outranked by Bulgarian envoys; the emperor, he
reports, told him that the insult was not to Bishop Liudprand personally but to
his master. His indignation, he writes, was appeased by a handsome present: the
sacred emperor sent him one of his most delicate dishes, a fat goat that he had
eaten from himself, richly stuffed with garlic, onions and leeks and swimming in
fish sauce. I wish, sires, that you could have had it on your table. The sight of
it, I am sure, would have banished any incredulity you have felt concerning the
sacred emperor's luxurious ways.
He was made to dine there again eight days later, in ill health, and cross-
examined in front of the patriarch about which church councils the west
recognised.
Both visits describe the same institution and neither is neutral. In 949 he was
bringing a request and the ceremonial was marvellous; in 968 he was refused and it
was absurd. What survives the change of tone is the thing itself — a court that
had turned the reception of foreigners into a repeatable performance with
mechanical effects, a graded seating order that told every envoy what his ruler
was worth, and enough confidence to let a resentful bishop go home and write
whatever he liked about the goat.
The missions
contractionDrafted from Whittow, The Making of Orthodox Byzantium, 600-1025 (1996)
In 863 two brothers from Thessalonica, Constantine — later Cyril — and
Methodius, were sent by the emperor to Moravia at its prince's request. Before
going, Constantine devised an alphabet for the Slavonic language, which had none,
and began translating the liturgy and the scriptures into it.
The Moravian mission failed politically, driven out by Frankish clergy within a
generation. The alphabet did not. Their pupils took it to Bulgaria, where it was
adapted into the script now called Cyrillic; the Bulgarian church took it to
Serbia and to the Rus; and it is written today by something over two hundred and
fifty million people across a dozen countries.
The clearest case on the site
Most claims that one alphabet descends from another have to be argued through
transitional inscriptions and contested datings. This one does not. The parent
script is Greek; the derivation is documented, named and dated; the transmission
was direct, by men an emperor sent; the language had no script before; and the
result is in daily use by a quarter of a billion people.
An early Cyrillic inscription from the Round Church at Preslav in Bulgaria. The alphabet was devised for a language that had none, sent out deliberately, and is in daily use by a quarter of a billion people.
Preslav, Bulgaria · Whittow, The Making of Orthodox Byzantium, 600-1025 (1996) · Photograph: Commons contributor · Public domain
A named man devised a named script for a named mission in a known year, and it
is still being written.
And the religion
The other export was the church itself, and it went to populations that had not
held it rather than being adopted at home.
The Bulgarian conversion in 864 is the political case: Boris played
Constantinople against Rome for several years, took baptism from
Constantinople, and got a church with its own archbishop and a liturgy in a
language his subjects spoke, which is a better offer than Latin. The Rus
conversion under Vladimir around 988 is the consequential one, and the story in
the Russian Primary Chronicle — envoys sent to compare religions, who report from
Hagia Sophia that they did not know whether they were in heaven or on earth — is
a legend about a real building that was, and is, exactly as overwhelming as they
said.
What it bought
Not much, in the short term, which is worth saying on a site that counts these
things.
Bulgaria fought the empire repeatedly after its conversion and a Bulgarian tsar
was besieging Constantinople within sixty years of it. The Rus raided the city
four times. A shared religion did not produce a shared politics, and the next
chapter is about an emperor who spent thirty years destroying the Bulgarian state
his predecessors had converted.
What it did produce is the thing the coded fields register: a religious and
literary culture across eastern Europe that outlived the empire that exported it
by five hundred years and counting. The empire's most durable single export was
made by two missionaries whose mission failed.
The second peak
contractionDrafted from Whittow, The Making of Orthodox Byzantium, 600-1025 (1996)
Most empires have one best century. The eastern Roman empire had two, four
hundred years apart, with a catastrophe in between — and the second is the more
remarkable, because it came after the loss of Syria, Egypt and North Africa, and
after three centuries of holding a mountain frontier against raids it could not
stop.
What happened in it
From the 860s the empire stopped defending and started taking.
The Taurus frontier that had held for three hundred years was pushed south. Crete
was retaken in 961 after a hundred and thirty years in Arab hands, and the Aegean
stopped being raided. Cilicia went in 965, and Antioch — lost in 638 — in 969,
with Byzantine armies operating in northern Syria and into the Jazira; the
Hamdanids of Aleppo spent those decades on the other side of it. The eastern
frontier reached the Euphrates and passed it.
Basil II reigned from 976 to 1025. He spent the first thirteen years suppressing
two enormous revolts by the Anatolian military families, and the next thirty
destroying the Bulgarian empire — a campaign of attrition rather than of battles,
conducted almost annually, that ended with Bulgaria annexed and the Danube
frontier restored for the first time since the sixth century. Armenia and Georgia
were absorbed or made client; Bagratid Armenia ended against this empire in 1045.
At his death the empire ran from the Danube to the Euphrates and from southern
Italy to the Caucasus, with a full treasury and no serious enemy on any frontier.
A gold histamenon of Basil II and his brother. He left the empire running from Italy to the Caucasus with a full treasury and no serious enemy on any frontier.
Whittow, The Making of Orthodox Byzantium, 600-1025 (1996) · Photograph: Classical Numismatic Group · CC BY-SA 2.5
Why it did not last
Fifty years later Anatolia was gone, and the standard explanations are internal.
The tenth-century laws against the dynatoi had failed. The great Anatolian
families had absorbed the smallholdings the theme system depended on, and the
soldiers those holdings produced were increasingly replaced by mercenaries paid
in coin. Basil's successors then cut the army to save money, in a period with no
visible threat, and let the frontier defences in Armenia go when they annexed the
buffer kingdoms that had been holding them.
Manzikert in 1071 is the date everyone knows, and the battle is not what lost
Anatolia. Alp Arslan captured the emperor, treated him well and released him on
terms; he wanted Syria and Egypt, and had come north because he was being raided.
What lost Anatolia was the civil war the defeat set off, in which rival Byzantine
claimants hired Turkish troops and paid them in land. By 1081 the plateau that
had supplied the empire's soldiers and taxes for four hundred years was held by
people who had been invited in.
An army that can make a ruler eventually makes one it prefers. The variation here
is that the army was somebody else's.
What Alexios rebuilt with
contractionDrafted from Whittow, The Making of Orthodox Byzantium, 600-1025 (1996)
Alexios I Komnenos took the throne in 1081 over an empire that had lost most
of what the second peak had won. Anatolia, the plateau that had produced four
centuries of soldiers and tax, was in the hands of Turkish beys who had been
invited in during the civil wars after Manzikert. Norman adventurers under
Robert Guiscard were crossing from Italy into the Balkans the same year.
Pechenegs were raiding south of the Danube. The treasury was empty enough
that Alexios melted down church plate to pay an army, and the coinage he
inherited had been debased for a generation of rival claimants each paying
troops with money the state did not have.
The hyperpyron, the coin Alexios introduced after the old gold had been debased past use. Restoring the currency and granting away the revenue were two halves of the same emergency.
Moscow Kremlin Museums · Whittow, The Making of Orthodox Byzantium, 600-1025 (1996) · Photograph: shakko · CC BY-SA 4.0
What he had to rebuild with was not soldiers or silver. It was land, and the
authority to assign its revenue to whoever would fight for it.
Pronoia
The instrument Alexios and his successors relied on, developed and expanded
across the twelfth century, granted a named individual the tax revenue of a
specified piece of land - not the land itself, and not the peasants working
it as personal property, but the state's own claim on what it would
otherwise have collected - in exchange for military service, usually as a
cavalryman equipped and mounted at the grantee's own expense. The grant was
not hereditary in principle: it reverted to the state at the holder's death
and could be reassigned, which in theory kept the emperor able to reward
loyalty and withhold it from families who had none to offer.
In practice the distinction between a pronoia and inherited property blurred
within a few generations, exactly as it had with the theme lands three
centuries earlier and would again with the Ottoman timar two centuries
later - the same instrument arriving at the same failure mode each time it
was tried, because a family holding the same revenue for two generations
does not experience it as temporary even when the law says it is.
What it bought, while it worked
For about a century it worked well enough to matter. Alexios used the
system, combined with a stabilised gold coinage - the hyperpyron,
introduced around 1092 after decades of debasement - and a network of
marriages binding the great Anatolian and Balkan families to his own house,
to assemble an army capable of holding what remained of the empire and
recovering some of what had been lost. Nicaea and the western Anatolian
coast came back within the reign, with crusader help that the next chapter
takes up in full. His son and grandson, John II and Manuel I, extended the
same methods for another sixty years, campaigning in Anatolia, the Balkans
and northern Syria with armies raised substantially on this basis.
What it cost
The court that pronoia grants and dynastic marriage produced was not the
old Constantinopolitan bureaucracy the empire had run on before Manzikert.
It was a network of related noble families - Komnenoi, Doukai, Angeloi,
Palaiologoi, the names that fill the rest of Byzantine history - holding
military command and provincial revenue as something close to a family
business, with the emperor as the senior partner rather than an
administrator standing above them all.
That arrangement rebuilt an army out of an empire that had none left to
speak of, and it is why the twelfth century, rather than the years right
after Manzikert, is when Byzantium last mattered as a first-rank power. It
also planted the same aristocratic entrenchment the tenth-century laws
against the dynatoi had failed to stop, in a more concentrated and more
overtly dynastic form, and it is the family politics of exactly this class
that produces the civil wars and coups that run through most of what
follows.
The more astute had another reason
contractionDrafted from Komnene, The Alexiad (1928)
Anna Komnene wrote her father's life half a century after the First Crusade
reached Constantinople, and she is the only person who described that arrival
from inside the city. She is a partisan, a princess who had lost a throne, and
writing to defend a reign. She is also the only witness who says what the empire
thought was happening.
Her account of why they came is two sentences and it contains the whole
subsequent history of Byzantine-Latin relations. The simpler-minded, she says,
were urged on by a genuine desire to worship at the Sepulchre and see the holy
places. But the more astute, especially men like Bohemond and those of like
mind, had another secret reason, namely, the hope that while on their travels
they might by some means be able to seize the capital itself, looking upon this
as a kind of corollary.
That is written after 1204, by someone who had known Bohemond personally, in a
book about the years before it. It is not evidence that Bohemond intended to take
Constantinople in 1096. It is evidence of what a member of the imperial family
had concluded by the time she wrote, and of the assumption the government worked
on from the first day — which is why what the government actually did looks the
way it does.
A gate in the land walls. The government marked the crusaders' route, shadowed each column out of sight, and attached Latin speakers to every detachment so that disputes could be settled before they became incidents.
Istanbul, Turkey · Komnene, The Alexiad (1928) · Photograph: Isabeau · CC BY-SA 4.0
What it did was manage them like weather. Officers were sent ahead to mark the
route and then follow the columns out of sight, with orders to come out and
skirmish if the Franks began foraging; and each detachment was given men who
spoke Latin, so that disputes could be settled before they became incidents. Anna
describes Peter the Hermit crossing first with numbers she gives as eighty
thousand foot and a hundred thousand horse, being advised by the emperor to wait
for the great lords, refusing because he trusted his own multitude, and being
destroyed. Godfrey refused for weeks to swear the oath of fealty and had to be
argued into it by his own colleagues, and then compelled.
Her general verdict on the Franks is the one every Byzantine writer after her
borrowed, and it is not stupid: the Frankish race is always very hot-headed and
eager, but when once it has espoused a cause, it is uncontrollable. She admires
the courage and describes the cruelty — the Normans who detached themselves and
devastated the country round Nicaea and did things to children she records in
detail — in the same paragraph.
The empire got what it wanted out of the crusade in the short run: Nicaea back,
the western Anatolian coast recovered, an enemy diverted. It also acquired, in the
same transaction, a permanent western belief that the Greeks were treacherous and
a permanent Greek belief that the Latins had come to take the city. Anna states
the second one as established fact in the middle of describing an alliance, which
is how far the relationship had travelled by the time she picked up her pen.
Kalo-Ioannes
contractionDrafted from Finlay, A History of Greece, from its Conquest by the Romans to the Present Time, Vol. III (1854)
John II Komnenos, Alexios's son, ruled for twenty-four years and left
almost no record of the scandal, treachery or self-indulgence that
fills the reigns on either side of his. Even hostile Latin writers
conceded his virtue, and his own subjects nicknamed him first
Maurojoannes - dark John, for his complexion - and then, as his
government won them over, Kalojoannes: John the Good.
The hands of John II in the south gallery of Hagia Sophia, holding the purse that stood for his annual endowment to the church. Contemporaries called him Kalo-Ioannes, John the Good.
Istanbul, Turkey · Finlay, A History of Greece, from its Conquest by the Romans to the Present Time, Vol. III (1854) · Photograph: Dosseman · CC BY-SA 4.0
A friend found outside his own family
John came to the throne to find the plot that would define his
reign's one real danger already forming around him: his mother
Irene, who had never wanted him to succeed, and his own elder
sister Anna Komnene - the future historian - conspiring to put
Anna's husband on the throne instead. John survived it by trusting
almost no one born into his own class. His closest advisor and
eventual prime minister was Axouchos, a Turkish boy captured as a
child at the fall of Nicaea in 1097 and raised alongside John in the
palace; the two became genuinely close friends, and John made him
the most powerful minister in the empire once he was old enough to
rule - a scandal to the aristocracy that says as much about their own
corruption as about John's judgment.
A sister who wanted him blinded
Anna's own conspiracy, organized to put her husband Nikephoros
Bryennios on the throne in John's place, required either John's
murder or his blinding to disqualify him from rule. When Bryennios
balked at the plan, Anna reportedly denounced his hesitation as
womanish weakness, contrasting it with what she called her own manly
resolve. The plot was discovered and John, characteristically,
declined to execute his own sister or brother-in-law - he confiscated
Anna's property instead, a mercy remarkable enough that later writers
recorded it as unusual for a Byzantine court used to blinding its
rivals as a matter of course.
A reign of steady, unglamorous recovery
John spent his twenty-four years pushing the recovery Alexios had
begun further outward - campaigns against the Pechenegs, the
Hungarians and the Serbs on the European frontiers, and a long series
of expeditions into Anatolia and northern Syria that recovered
Byzantine authority over Cilicia and forced the Latin principality of
Antioch to acknowledge Byzantine overlordship, the same campaign that
carried off the Rubenid prince Levon to Constantinople in 1137. None
of it was as dramatic as Manzikert or as celebrated as Basil II's
conquest of Bulgaria, and that is precisely why it is easy to skip:
John's whole method was patient, well-financed, unspectacular
soldiering rather than the kind of single decisive battle histories
remember.
A wound from his own quiver
John died camped near Anazarbos in Cilicia in April 1143, preparing a
spring campaign into Syria. Hunting a wild boar on Mount Taurus, he
was gored, and in the struggle a poisoned arrow from his own quiver
scratched his hand. He ignored the wound until his arm had swollen
past the point where amputation could still save him, and spent his
final days arranging a peaceful transfer of power to his youngest
son, Manuel, whose talents he judged superior to his elder surviving
brother's. He died, by every account, as calmly as he had ruled.
Myriokephalon
contractionDrafted from Finlay, A History of Greece, from its Conquest by the Romans to the Present Time, Vol. III (1854)
Manuel I Komnenos inherited an empire near the height of its
Komnenian recovery and spent thirty-seven years spending that
inheritance on an ambition his father had never shared: restoring
Byzantine primacy over the whole eastern Mediterranean, Latin
crusader states included, rather than simply defending what
Alexios and John had rebuilt.
A court that impressed and appalled its own guests
Manuel's reign was the Komnenian dynasty at its most theatrical.
He negotiated commercial treaties with Venice, Pisa and Genoa that
opened Constantinople's markets to Italian merchants on generous
terms; he intervened in Antioch and forced its Latin prince to
acknowledge him as overlord in a public ceremony; he fought a war
against the Norman kingdom of Sicily after Roger II's fleet sacked
Corinth and Thebes and carried off the city's silk-weavers as
captive labor for a new industry in Palermo. Manuel personally led
armies in Asia Minor, the Balkans and Egypt, married a Frankish
princess, Maria of Antioch, as his second wife, and ran a court that
Latin visitors described as the most magnificent in Christendom -
while Byzantine writers closer to home worried, with some
justification, that a middle class capable of restraining an
emperor's ambitions had stopped existing in the empire he ruled.
Manuel I and his second wife, Maria of Antioch. His reign was the Komnenian dynasty at its most theatrical, and the ambition stopped in a narrow valley in 1176.
Finlay, A History of Greece, from its Conquest by the Romans to the Present Time, Vol. III (1854) · Byzantine manuscript illumination · Public domain
An army committed to a narrow valley
Manuel's Anatolian ambitions ran directly against the Sultanate of
Rum, and in September 1176 he marched a large, heavily provisioned
army - three thousand supply wagons among the baggage train alone -
toward Konya itself, intending to end the sultanate as a threat for
good. Sultan Kilij Arslan II offered peace on the terms of an earlier
treaty as the army approached a ruined fortress called Myriokephalon;
Manuel refused to answer until he reached Konya and pressed on into
the long, narrow pass of Tzybritze without sending cavalry ahead to
clear the heights - a precaution the fate of the failed Second
Crusade's own armies, a generation earlier, should have taught him
to take.
A column strangled in its own baggage train
The Turks had watched the whole approach from ambush along both
sides of the pass. Once the Byzantine baggage train reached the
valley's midpoint, they struck the front and rear simultaneously.
The right wing, commanded by the empress's own brother Baldwin, was
cut off from the rest of the army by the wagon train and annihilated
where it stood; the Turks then dragged the captured wagons across the
road to seal it and turned on the central division, where Manuel
commanded in person, surrounded by his guard. The valley was too
narrow for the heavy Byzantine cavalry - an arm that could have swept
the lighter Turkish horsemen aside on open ground - to form any kind
of line. Wagons, dead cattle, infantry and cavalry were crushed
together in a single choked mass while fresh Turkish squadrons kept
arriving from side ravines to renew the attack on both flanks at
once.
A peace, and a mind that never recovered
The army survived the disaster rather than being destroyed outright -
the vanguard held the high ground at the pass's exit and Manuel
himself escaped the trap - but the losses and the humiliation ended
any Byzantine ambition of conquering Rum outright. Manuel negotiated
a peace with Kilij Arslan on terms neither side found fully
satisfying and never again attempted an offensive war on that scale.
Contemporaries agreed that his body recovered from Myriokephalon far
faster than his mind did: he grew withdrawn and melancholy in his
final years, and died in 1180 having spent the last of the
Komnenian dynasty's confidence in a single afternoon in a mountain
pass south of Konya.
1204
contractionDrafted from Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society (1997)
The Fourth Crusade set out for Egypt, could not pay the Venetians for the fleet
it had commissioned, worked off part of the debt by taking a Christian city on
the Dalmatian coast for Venice, and then accepted an offer from a Byzantine
claimant who promised money and troops if they restored his father. They restored
him, he could not pay, the city rioted and killed him, and in April 1204 the
crusaders stormed Constantinople and sacked it for three days.
The city had not been taken by an enemy in eight hundred and seventy-four years.
The bronze horses now at San Marco came out of it, along with most of the
relics of western Europe and an unrecoverable quantity of manuscripts and
metalwork.
The four bronze horses that stood over the hippodrome at Constantinople, taken to Venice in 1204 and still there. The crusaders melted most of the city's bronze; these survived because they were worth more whole.
Basilica di San Marco, Venice · Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society (1997) · Photograph: Tteske · CC BY 3.0
What broke
The empire, into pieces. A Latin empire in Constantinople. A Greek government at
Nicaea, which retook the city in 1261. A second Greek state at Trebizond on the
Black Sea, which outlasted everything and fell in 1461. A despotate in Epirus.
What the restoration of 1261 did not restore is the part that matters here. The population did not
come back; fourteenth-century travellers describe fields and orchards inside the
walls. The treasury did not. And the commercial position did not, because the
concessions that Venice and then Genoa had been extracting since the 1080s in
exchange for naval help had by the fourteenth century given the Italian
republics the customs revenue of the straits.
The empire had lived on its land tax and the customs of the straits. By the
1340s a Byzantine emperor's customs revenue from
the Bosphorus was reportedly a small fraction of the Genoese colony's on the
opposite shore of the same waterway, and the empire fought a naval war with
Genoa over it and lost.
The last choice
The civil wars of 1341 to 1354 are the last point at which the empire had a
choice about anything.
Two of them, fought over the regency for a nine-year-old emperor. Both sides
hired Turkish troops. One of them, John VI Kantakouzenos, married a daughter to
the Ottoman emir Orhan and ferried Ottoman soldiers into Europe to fight for him;
in 1354 an earthquake destroyed the walls of Gallipoli and the Ottomans, already
there, kept it. Serbia took Macedonia, Thessaly and Epirus while the empire was
occupied with itself, and Stefan Dušan had himself crowned emperor of the Serbs
and Greeks.
At the end of it the empire was Constantinople, a strip of Thrace, Thessalonica
and part of the Peloponnese, with an Ottoman state in Europe that it had brought
across.
The rest is the last chapter, and it takes ninety-nine years.
1453
endDrafted from Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society (1997)
By 1400 the emperor was an Ottoman vassal who had campaigned in Anatolia in the
sultan's army. Manuel II spent the years from 1399 to 1403 travelling in western
Europe asking for help, was received in Paris and London with great courtesy, and
got very little. What saved the city was Timur, who destroyed the Ottoman army at
Ankara in 1402 and set off a civil war among Bayezid's sons that bought
Constantinople half a century.
The fortress Mehmed II built on the Bosphorus in 1452, across the narrows from an older one. Closing the strait cut the city off from the Black Sea a year before the siege began.
Istanbul, Turkey · Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society (1997) · Photograph: Commons contributor · CC BY-SA 4.0
In 1439 the emperor and the Greek church accepted union with Rome at the Council
of Florence, in exchange for the help that was the only way the city could be
held. The population of Constantinople substantially rejected it. The remark
attributed to a senior official — better the sultan's turban than the cardinal's
hat — is probably not authentic and is an accurate summary of the position.
Fifty-three days
Mehmed II brought something in the order of eighty thousand men and a siege train
including a gun cast by a Hungarian engineer who had offered it to the emperor
first and had not been able to be paid.
A bronze bombard cast in 1464 by the founder who had worked for Mehmed II, on the pattern of the guns used against the walls eleven years earlier. The siege guns themselves do not survive.
Fort Nelson, Hampshire · Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society (1997) · Photograph: Tim Sheerman-Chase · CC BY 2.0
The defence was about seven thousand, of whom perhaps two thousand were foreign,
mostly Genoese and Venetian. The chain across the Golden Horn held until the
Ottomans dragged ships overland into the harbour. The land walls of Anthemius,
which had not been breached in a thousand and forty years, were breached on 29
May 1453. Constantine XI was killed somewhere in the fighting and his body was
not identified.
What the fields say and do not
The conqueror took the title with the city. Mehmed II called himself Kayser-i
Rûm, Caesar of Rome, and meant it — which is the same claim on the same name that
the Ottomans had been making, and that half of Europe had been making, for
centuries.
The difficulty in saying what ended in 1453 is that the state which ended called
itself the empire of the Romans, its inhabitants called themselves Romans, and
its neighbours agreed. Treating it as a different polity from the Roman empire
is a convenience of periodisation and nothing else. There is no year in which
anybody in Constantinople decided to stop being Roman — not 395, not 476, not
the day Latin gave way to Greek in the chancery. The division is something later
historians did, for their own reasons, and it is worth saying so wherever the
question comes up.
Afterwards
Trebizond, the other Greek successor state, fell in 1461. The Morea in 1460.
Mehmed rebuilt and repopulated Constantinople as his capital, kept the Greek
patriarchate and appointed a patriarch, and used the imperial title — what he
made of that inheritance is an Ottoman story rather than a Byzantine one.
Hagia Sophia became a mosque, which is why the dome raised under Justinian is
still standing: a building in continuous use is maintained, and a building
nobody needs is quarried.
The republic
asideDrafted from Kaldellis, The Byzantine Republic: People and Power in New Rome (2015)
Roughly half the emperors who reigned between 395 and 1453 were deposed. What
you make of that number depends entirely on what you think the empire was.
The old picture
The standard account of Byzantine government, for most of the last two hundred
years, is a sacral autocracy: an emperor chosen by God, ruling without
constitutional limit, surrounded by a court ceremonial designed to make him
appear more than human, in a state where church and throne were fused and
politics consisted of palace intrigue. On that reading the depositions are
evidence of instability — a system that did not work.
Kaldellis's argument
His case is that this gets the constitution backwards. The eastern Roman empire
was a res publica — the word is in the sources, in Greek as politeia — whose
emperor held power on behalf of the people and could lose it. The acclamation by
senate, army and people at every accession was not decoration but the
constitutive act. The emperor was not above the law in the sources' own account
of him.
And the depositions are not evidence of a broken system. They are what a
constitution without a formal removal mechanism looks like when it removes
somebody, and they follow a recognisable pattern: the emperor loses a war or
debases the coinage or raises taxes, the population of the capital riots, the
army or the senate acts, and a successor is acclaimed.
The serpent column in the hippodrome, brought from Delphi by Constantine and standing where the crowd that acclaimed and deposed emperors gathered.
Istanbul, Turkey · Kaldellis, The Byzantine Republic: People and Power in New Rome (2015) · Photograph: Ninara · CC BY 2.0
On this reading, half the emperors being deposed is not chaos. It is a republic
with an unusually violent recall procedure.
What is not in dispute
The argument is live, and Kaldellis has serious critics. But the disagreement is
narrower than it looks, and it is worth being exact about where it falls.
Nobody disputes that every accession involved an acclamation, that the ceremony
was recorded and described in detail, that usurpers went out of their way to
obtain one, or that the sources treat an unacclaimed emperor as lacking
something. What is disputed is whether the acclamation had teeth — whether it was
a constitutional act or a ritual that had outlived its content.
That distinction matters here more than it might elsewhere, because the
alternative reading has a history of its own. The picture of Byzantium as an
oriental theocracy in permanent decline was built largely by western scholarship
that had reasons to want the Roman inheritance for the Latin west, and it is the
same scholarship that produced the name "Byzantine" for a state whose inhabitants
called themselves Romans until the day the walls came down.
Nobody there called it Byzantium
asideDrafted from Whittow, The Making of Orthodox Byzantium, 600-1025 (1996)
The word Byzantine was applied to this empire by a German scholar in 1557, a
century after it had ceased to exist. Its inhabitants called their state the
Basileia Rhomaion, the empire of the Romans, and called themselves Rhomaioi,
Romans, until the end. Their neighbours agreed: the Arabs called them Rum, and
the Seljuk sultanate in Anatolia took its name from the Roman ground it sat
on.
The renaming was not neutral. It let western European scholarship treat the
medieval Roman empire as a separate and lesser thing — oriental, static,
theocratic, in permanent decline for a thousand years — and reserve the Roman
inheritance for the Latin west. Gibbon's account, which shaped English usage for
two centuries, is the most influential version.
A floor from the Great Palace at Constantinople, laid in the sixth century. The people who walked on it called their state the empire of the Romans, and so did their neighbours.
Great Palace Mosaic Museum, Istanbul · Whittow, The Making of Orthodox Byzantium, 600-1025 (1996) · Photograph: Ninara · CC BY 2.0
What the state actually did between 600 and 1025 was survive the loss of half
its territory, reorganise its army and taxation from the ground up, hold
Constantinople through two Arab sieges that would have ended it, convert the
Slavs and the Rus and give them an alphabet, and then reconquer Anatolia,
Bulgaria and northern Syria under a line of soldier-emperors. A polity in
continuous decline does not do that.
The Cyrillic alphabet comes out of that missionary work: a script devised for a
language that did not have one, transmitted outward deliberately, and still in
use by hundreds of millions of people who have never given the empire that sent
it a thought.
Be patriarch, and be at peace
afterlifeDrafted from Pears, The Destruction of the Greek Empire and the Story of the Capture of Constantinople by the Turks (1903)
Constantinople fell on 29 May 1453 and within a few months its conqueror had
reinstalled the institution that had defined it, because he needed the city to
work.
Mehmed II wanted Constantinople repopulated. It had been emptying for a century
before he took it and the sack had finished the job, and a capital of empty
streets was no use to him. So he gave the Christians permission to follow the
customs of their churches — and, learning that they had no patriarch, ordered
them to choose one.
He promised in advance to accept whoever they chose, and that the man should
enjoy very nearly the same privileges as his predecessors.
The scene at the seraglio
A local synod met and elected George Scholarios, who took the name Gennadios.
He was a monk, a scholar, and the leading opponent of the union with Rome that
the last emperors had negotiated in order to get western help.
The sultan received him at the palace and with his own hands gave him a pastoral
cross of silver and gold, and said:
Be patriarch and be at peace. Count upon our friendship as long as thou
desirest it, and thou shalt enjoy all the privileges of thy predecessors.
Then he had him mounted on a richly caparisoned horse and conducted in
procession to the Church of the Holy Apostles, which he gave him as the seat of
the patriarchate, as it had formerly been.
St George in the Phanar, seat of the patriarchate since the sixteenth century. The office Mehmed II reinstalled within months of the conquest is still filled.
Istanbul, Turkey · Pears, The Destruction of the Greek Empire and the Story of the Capture of Constantinople by the Turks (1903) · Photograph: Dosseman · CC BY-SA 4.0
Afterwards, according to a contemporary Greek historian who wrote for Mehmed, the
sultan went on seeing him — discussing questions about Christianity, urging him
to speak freely, visiting him, and bringing along the learned men he had
collected at his court.
What was actually being set up
Not toleration in the modern sense, and not a courtesy. An administration.
The patriarch became the head of the Orthodox population of the empire, with
authority over its law, its courts, its marriages, its taxes on itself and its
own internal discipline — an arrangement the Ottomans extended to other
confessions and which lasted, in one form or another, into the twentieth
century. The office survived the state that created it and then survived the
state that destroyed the state that created it.
That is the largest single thing Byzantium left behind. Not the claim to Rome,
which the sultan took for himself, and not the territory, which was gone. An
institution: the church of the empire, continuing inside the empire that had
conquered it, with its rank confirmed by the conqueror because a conqueror who
wants a working city needs somebody the population will obey.
The building
There is a coda in a footnote, and it is the whole of the Ottoman century in one
sentence.
The Church of the Holy Apostles — the burial church of the emperors, where
Constantine and Justinian lay — was handed to Gennadios with ceremony as his
official residence.
It was subsequently taken back from the Greeks, demolished, and replaced by a
mosque built in honour of the conqueror.
The patriarchate moved, and moved again, and is still in the city. The church
that was given to it lasted about a decade.
Byzantium outlived its four-century rival by eight centuries, but the war of 602-628 that exhausted the Sasanians exhausted it too, and both lost their southern provinces to the same conquest.
The final administrative division into eastern and western halves; the east continued without a break in institutions, law or self-description for another thousand years.
Hovhannes-Smbat had undertaken in 1022 to leave Ani to the emperor; Constantinople produced the document when he died, invaded when the Armenians crowned Gagik II instead, and detained the king until he surrendered the city.
Basil II finished a war that had run since 976, four years after Kleidion. Bulgaria was annexed and administered directly for a hundred and sixty-seven years, with its patriarchate reduced to an archbishopric at Ohrid.
Eighteen years of war ending at Taginae and Mons Lactarius, after which no Gothic army existed and Italy was a province neither power could pay to defend.
Nicaea retook Constantinople and did not present itself as a successor state but as the empire resuming its capital, with the same titles, the same law and the same reckoning of its own years.
Mehmed II took Constantinople and the title Kayser-i Rum, moved his capital into the city, and kept the Orthodox patriarchate in being under his protection.
Justinian put every Roman Arab ally under al-Harith ibn Jabala and gave him patrician rank, paying and confirming a frontier authority that answered raids the regular army could not.
A crusade Venice had contracted to carry took Constantinople and installed a Latin emperor. The partition treaty divided the empire between the crusaders and Venice; three Greek governments claiming to be the empire survived elsewhere, at Nicaea, at Trebizond and in Epirus.
The duchy of Venetia was Byzantine territory and its doges were imperial officials; by the ninth century they were choosing themselves, minting, and treating with the Franks, while continuing to accept Byzantine court titles for another two hundred years.
Bohemond, beaten in his own invasion of the empire, swore at Devol to hold Antioch as Alexios' liegeman; his nephew in Syria ignored it, and John II and Manuel I each came in person with an army to collect what the document said was theirs.
Two grandsons of Andronikos I took the Pontic coast with Georgian troops in the month the Fourth Crusade was sacking Constantinople, and claimed the imperial title along with Nicaea and Epirus.
The Fourth Crusade took Constantinople and the imperial government reconstituted itself in western Anatolia, one of three Greek states claiming to be the empire.
When the Fourth Crusade sacked Constantinople, Michael Komnenos Doukas deserted the Latin army dividing up Byzantine territory, crossed into the remote country of Epirus, and made himself protector of a Greek population the empire's collapse had left to nobody's authority at all - a foundation, Nicol notes, with no Latin or Byzantine emperor's sanction behind it.
Territory that changed hands
Provinces lost while this polity went on existing. This is not succession and draws no thread — territory changing hands says nothing about what became what.
The field army in Syria was destroyed at the Yarmuk and Heraclius withdrew behind the Taurus rather than raise a second one; Baladhuri has him turn at the pass and say goodbye to the province. The cities had already been treating separately, Damascus and Busra on written terms that survived to be argued over centuries later.
John of Nikiu, a Delta bishop writing within living memory, describes not a defeat but a command structure coming apart: a general drowned, another boarding a ship and leaving his army to be killed in the water, and Lower Egypt dividing between those who held with the Roman commander and those who wished to join the Arabs.
Anna Komnene describes her father's accession in 1081 finding Sulayman, whom she calls ruler of the whole of the East, encamped at Nicaea with his palace there and raiding to the Bosphorus. Alexios cleared Bithynia and the seaboard by night landings and fixed the river Dracon as the boundary; the plateau behind it stayed Turkish and the empire never held it again.
The shaded band is this polity’s span; the dark part of each bar is the stretch the two shared.
Derived from cited spans, not from a separate source. Where both spans are ranges and they meet only on the widest reading of each, the pair is listed as possible rather than resolved to one answer. Unlinked entries are here for scale and are not written up.
Extent
An illustration, not a measurement
Snapshot year
600
This is the nearest available snapshot to the cited peak of 555, 45 years away. It is not the peak.
Cited extent
1,350,000 km²
The area of the shape on the left will not match this figure. That is expected. The cited figure is the figure; the map is an illustration, and the two are never reconciled.
Byzantine Empire, as the snapshot draws it
Everything else on the same snapshot
Land the dataset assigns to no polity, on a modern coastline
Edges are blurred from the dataset’s own border-precision field. Every feature in this period is marked 1, approximate, so every border here dissolves.
The dataset author’s caveat, which belongs here rather than in the footnotes: territorial boundary as a concept is meaningful in Europe only after Westphalia, ancient polities overlap, and old vector borders drawn on modern coastlines mislead because rivers and shorelines move. Boundaries from historical-basemaps, CC-BY-4.0.
Rating
Four axes, all computed from cited numbers and never from editorial judgement. Percentiles are against every polity written up here — 419 of them — plus 49 more included for scale. Absolute figures. A missing axis is excluded from the total rather than counted as zero.
Reach
1,350,000 km²
20th percentile
Longevity
1058 years
98th percentile
Demographic weight
No cited figure
Influence
Three separate counts. This site never publishes a single influence number of its own; the sliders on the rankings view fuse them only in your view.
Descendant scripts
1
Cyrillic
Religions carried
1
Orthodox Christianity
Successor claims
4
First Bulgarian Empire · Latin Empire of Constantinople · Serbia · Ottoman Empire
Weighted total
70th percentile
computed from 3 of 4 axes, renormalised across the axes that have figures. A polity with two documented axes is not penalised against one with four.