This monograph examines the life and career of Flavius Ardaburius Aspar, a general and politician who played a major role in the history of the eastern Roman empire, especially at the courts of Marcian (450-457) and Leo I (457-474). Its goal is to “explore the full scope of Aspar’s career” in order to better understand “both Aspar and the reasons for the survival of the eastern Roman empire” (6). The central thesis of the book is twofold: first, that Aspar’s career represents an expansion of the model of “ceremonial” rulership pioneered in the west under generals such as Stilicho and Aetius; and, second, that this new configuration of imperial authority allowed the eastern empire to navigate the vicissitudes of dynastic succession and weather the trials of the fifth century (3-4).[1]
After introducing its thesis, chapter two addresses ethnic and religious identity in late antiquity, both of which directly impacted Aspar’s career (his father was an Alan and he an Arian Christian). From here, the book proceeds roughly chronologically through Aspar’s career, though frequent digressions are required to introduce relevant background. The result is a somewhat muddied structure. Chapter three, for example, contains sections on Aspar’s immediate family, a general introduction to the Alans, a speculative account of the career of Aspar’s father, and a summary of the Gaïnas affair of 399-400, in which a Gothic general attempted to impose himself on the court of Constantinople before being driven from the city by the populace and subsequently killed by the Huns.
From here, Bleeker covers Aspar’s military service in Persia, Italy, North Africa and the Balkans (chapters four through six), followed by his rise to prominence as a major figure at the courts of Marcian and Leo (chapters seven and eight). The most detailed section of the book (chapters nine through twelve) deals with the power struggles at Leo’s court that ultimately led to Aspar’s murder by Leo’s agents in 471. The monograph concludes with a survey of the period from Aspar’s death through the coronation of Anastasius in 491 (chapter thirteen) and a conclusion, in which Bleeker returns to his discussion of “ceremonial” rulership.
Aspar’s career touches upon many of the major themes of Roman history in the fifth century: ethnic and confessional identity, the challenges posed by the Vandals and Huns, and the sources of political legitimacy and stability in the eastern empire, in particular the balance of power between civilian and military authority. Bleeker is right to identify Aspar as a promising cipher for interpreting this critical period. However, the book cannot be recommended because it fails to follow through on its promised thesis and generally lacks the rigor and coherence expected of a scholarly work.
Bleeker clearly identifies his thesis: Aspar pioneered a form of “ceremonial” rulership in the eastern empire that facilitated that empire’s survival. In order to prove this thesis, one would need to define the relevant terms and answer some basic analytical questions. What are the defining features of ceremonial rulership? How is it distinct from other models of imperial government? What criteria should we use to detect its presence in the historical record? Answering these questions is the logical first step in proving the book’s thesis, but they are left not only unanswered but largely unaddressed. The operative definition of ceremonial rulership appears to be any “partnership” between a non-dynastic emperor and a “powerful” military figure in which the emperor played a religious and other (undefined) “ceremonial” roles (4). This is untenably vague. It offers no guidance for distinguishing a ceremonial partnership from the regular employment of senior generals or demarcating the threshold of power or influence at which rulership becomes ceremonial. It is thus unclear what sets Aspar apart from other influential military officials of the period, such as Zeno or Aspar’s father Ardabur.
Proving the book’s thesis would also require a clear picture of the nature of politics in fifth-century Constantinople in order to explain the operation of ceremonial rulership. This too is lacking. Although a number of factors are identified as important at various points in the monograph (orthodoxy, dynasty, the military, ethnicity), their relative weight and roles in generating legitimacy or driving the actions of political constituencies are not discussed, nor are the identities of those constituencies. (The sole exception is the populace of Constantinople, whose political agency Bleeker summarily dismisses in his conclusion (204).) Put differently, it is not enough to simply say that orthodoxy mattered; in order to use orthodoxy to analyze imperial politics one must also explain to whom it mattered, how it was judged, and how it competed with other political and ideological priorities.
Finally, a complete model of ceremonial rulership would require some discussion of the realia of Roman government, especially the institutional contexts in which Aspar was operating. No such discussion is offered, leaving the reader in the dark about the powers and functions of the senatorial elite, the military high command, and the imperial bureaucracy. Even the emperor is reduced to having only three major roles: appointing generals, managing the dynasty, and associating himself with orthodoxy. The result is a narrative in which it is never clear what resources various political actors could call upon or what the implications of their actions were. Instead, the maneuvers of Aspar and his contemporaries occur in a vacuum where their import can only be asserted but never demonstrated.
Lacking all of these elements, the book is unable to argue its central thesis and, indeed, it makes no real attempt to do so. Discussions of ceremonial rulership are almost completely restricted to the introduction and conclusion. The central thesis of the book thus comes across as an afterthought. It also fails as a more general study of Aspar’s life and career. This is partially due to the deficiencies discussed above, whose absence affects more than just the ceremonial rulership thesis, but also to major shortcomings in the book’s engagement with scholarship and use of evidence.
To begin with, the book is flawed in its use of analytical concepts, especially ethnicity. Although identified as “central to Aspar’s story” (7), ethnicity is never defined and its treatment throughout the book is inconsistent. Barbarian ethnicity is sometimes dismissed as irrelevant or a mirage of the sources, sometimes read as a proxy for confessional identity (i.e., “Gothic” means “Arian”), sometimes treated as a meaningful distinction that could be ameliorated by “playing the Roman” (the logical inverse, “playing the barbarian,” is never considered), and sometimes essentialized, as in the discussion of the Theodosian dynasty’s barbarian-ness following Eudoxia’s marriage to Arcadius (12; Eudoxia was the daughter of a barbarian general). The result is fundamentally incoherent narrative in which Aspar’s barbarian-ness is irrelevant at one moment but decisive at the next without any clear explanation of what had changed to yield such different results.
The book’s treatment of Gaïnas’ rebellion illustrates how its general lack of analytical rigor undermines its narrative. Bleeker denies to ethnicity any meaningful role in Gaïnas’ fall on the grounds that Fravitta, who defeated him on behalf of the court, was also a Goth and that Goths and Alans remained in the Roman military after Gaïnas’ death. At the same time, Bleeker treats Gaïnas as a proto-Aspar and speculates that his rise and fall warned Aspar that “direct” domination by a “non-Roman, non-Orthodox military leader” would not work, so “indirect” means would be required (30). This framing, however, suggest that ethnicity was a salient political issue. Meanwhile, it is entirely unclear, based on discussion offered, what distinguishes Gaïnas’ “direct” domination from the “indirect” role that Aspar later sought or what political constituencies, governmental powers, and ideologies his “indirect” dominance (presumably the “ceremonial” rulership of the introduction) was built upon.
In addition to struggling to effectively employ analytical concepts, either its own or others, the book also fails to demonstrate the basic competences one would expect of an academic monograph. It is overreliant on secondary scholarship, including narratives aimed at general audiences, resulting in the omission or misunderstanding of important events and scholarly debates, such as the sources for Aspar’s negotiations with Attila in 441 (74)[2] or the debate surrounding the date of the marriage of Zeno and Ariadne (139). Moreover, when scholarly debates are discussed, they are treated superficially. A representative example is the discussion of Pulcheria’s influence at the court of Theodosius II. The author mentions that some scholars see her as influential, quotes passages to that effect from the fifth-century ecclesiastical historian Sozomenos and Edward Gibbon, mentions that some scholars argue for Theodosius II’s agency, and then asserts that she had “major” influence between 414 and 415 (34-5). Except for the quote from Sozomenos, no arguments or evidence from either side of this debate are considered nor is any explanation offered for why one position is endorsed over the other.
When primary sources are discussed, they are treated arbitrarily. The agendas of some, such as hagiography, are never interrogated, even when they are immediately relevant. So the Life of Marcellus is used to demonstrate that popular reaction against Aspar’s son being appointed Caesar was based entirely on confessional, rather than ethnic, hostility (166-167). Meanwhile, other authors’ agendas are discussed and their evidence flagged as suspect only to then be taken at face value (59-60). The author also fails to consider the nature of some sources. For example, he treats Photios’ summary of Kandidos’ lost history as if it were the text of Kandidos (169-170).
Aspar and the struggle for the eastern Roman Empire aims at a confluence of important topics in the history of the fifth century and chooses a promising avenue of inquiry, but the book’s execution makes it impossible to recommend to any audience. Scholars inclined to agree with the book’s arguments will find nothing new or rigorous here, while those who are skeptical will find only a straw man. Students, meanwhile, should seek out works that better model scholarly practice, while general readers should await a volume that can offer a more coherent explanation for how and why Aspar’s career and the fate of the eastern Roman empire unfolded as they did.
It is surprising to find a monograph with such significant and fundamental deficiencies in the catalogue of a leading academic press, especially in a series dedicated to scholarly monographs. Bloomsbury may wish to reflect on how this book made it through to publication.
Notes
[1] Bleeker borrows the idea of ceremonial rulership from Meaghan McEvoy, “Rome and the transformation of the imperial office in the late fourth–mid-fifth centuries AD,” Papers of the British School at Rome 78 (2010) 151-192; idem., Child Emperor Rule in the Late Roman West, AD 367-455 (Oxford 2013).
[2] Bleeker understands this to be speculation on the part of Christopher Kelly, but it is in fact attested by a passage from Marcellinus comes (which Bleeker does not cite) and discussed in Aspar’s PLRE entry: Christopher Kelly, The End of Empire: Attila the Hun & the Fall of Rome (New York 2009); Marcellinus comes s.a. 441; PLRE II, 164-169 (Fl. Ardabur Aspar).