This book is a product of the lockdowns during the COVID-19 pandemic. It begins by recalling the coronavirus, and it ends with it (pp. 1 and 431). Consequently, the horror of the ‘Justinianic Plague’ is evoked right at the beginning (p. 2), and it remains present throughout the account as a striking experience of contemporaries. The fourth and last main section of the book begins with a description of the ‘Justinianic Plague’ and indeed the tone of the account changes markedly from this point on: it becomes darker, and the focus is now almost exclusively on the disasters and problems that cast their shadow over Justinian’s last years.
The four main parts of the book unfold in seventeen chapters (the last of which contains an outlook on the later reception of Justinian).
In the introduction, Sarris describes the sixth century as “haunted by a profound sense of anxiety, failure, and insecurity”, focusing on the emperor and emphasizing that his personality and character can be grasped especially through his legal texts and theological writings (pp. 6f.). In fact, the author draws a veritable psychogram of a ruler whose actions were characterized by deep piety, but also by “impatience”, “impetuousness”, an “urge to dominate and surpass”, and his “utter devotion to Theodora” (see p. 173). Theodora remains a major player at her husband’s side throughout the entire account; Sarris repeatedly draws attention to her influence and actions. Together, the couple shaped decades that were characterized “not only by an unprecedented degree of charity but also by an unprecedented degree of intolerance and cruelty, and the emperor’s strong sense of personal mission and commitment to what he perceived to be the common good”, as well as “by his strong autocratic tendencies and his keen… sense of his own dignity and pride” (p. 8).
Under the heading “The Rise to Power”, the chronologically structured account first provides an overview of important developments in late antiquity (especially the Christological conflicts as the background of Justinian’s religious policy). With an examination of Justiniana Prima, the city south-west of Naissus that had been founded by Justinian, and “the city’s overwhelmingly religious character” (p. 44), an important theme of the book—Justinian’s piety—is then addressed, even before Sarris describes the rise of Justin and his nephew and their establishment in Constantinople. The reign of Justin I and Justinian’s emergence are the subject of the third chapter; Sarris explains that Justinian’s first letter to Pope Hormisdas already reveals “the future emperor’s distinctive personality and style” (p. 73), and then proceeds to the rise of Theodora and Justinian’s arduous path to becoming his uncle’s successor.
The second section (“A Turbulent Beginning”) deals with the early years of Justinian’s reign. Sarris rightly emphasizes the widespread eschatological expectations with which the young emperor was confronted and shows his efforts first to strengthen the empire’s defenses, especially in the east. The ‘Eternal Peace’ of 532, which was repeatedly criticized for its enormous costs, is presented as a plausible and rational solution and convincingly placed in the context of diplomatic activities in the Black Sea and Caucasus regions (pp. 104f.). The securing of the Balkan provinces, which has been largely neglected in the research of recent decades,[1] is also given due recognition (pp. 106-109).
Sarris then deals (and repeatedly throughout the rest of the book) with Justinian’s legislation, which is described, analyzed, and classified in detail. One of the great strengths of the book is the intensive use of legal texts as a central group of sources: no other biography of Justinian that I know relies to a comparable extent on these texts: in my opinion, this is the real innovation of Sarris’ book, which, because of this perspective, provides a much deeper insight into internal processes, motivations for action, and previously unseen connections than older works. Whether the legal texts also provide—according to Sarris’ thesis—a deeper insight into Justinian’s personality remains to be seen. Nevertheless, one can agree with the author in his conclusion: “Although the emperor professed to have been motivated by a ‘reverence for antiquity’, Justinian had in fact recast the entire inherited legal tradition to meet contemporary needs” (p. 130). In Sarris’ interpretation, the Nika revolt, discussed in Chapter 6, appears as an uprising in which the elite’s reservations about the emperor were combined with popular unrest; Sarris sees a central reason for the revolt in Justinian’s efforts to collect taxes more efficiently: “His attitude towards taxation raised hackles across the social spectrum” (p. 138). One consequence of the Nika revolt was the rebuilding of the Hagia Sophia in the years 532-537, to which the author devotes the seventh chapter, paying particular attention to the overwhelming visual and acoustic characteristics of the monumental building: “To the late antique worshipper, it would have engaged the mind and elevated it to a state of divine contemplation” (p. 169). The subsequent description of the newly restored Augustaion as a response to the Nika revolt also involves the monumental equestrian statue of Justinian. This, however, was not created until 543 and is better interpreted in the context of the catastrophes of the years 540-542, especially the plague.
The third main section (“Imperial Expansion and Power”) focuses on the wars in the West and religious policy. It is interesting that Sarris interprets the intervention in North Africa in 533 as a “response to the Nika riots” (p. 185), while the reinstatement of the legitimate Vandal king Hilderic, on the other hand, is treated as a mere pretext (p. 201). The administrative measures that became necessary after the destruction of the Vandal empire once again point to one of Justinian’s main characteristics in Sarris’ interpretation: his restlessness. “Justinian’s African legislation of 534 reveals an emperor with a plan. How realistic this plan was is another matter” (p. 212). The invasion of Italy was also justified by a pretext: the murder of Amalasuntha (p. 218). In what follows, Sarris deals intensively with the Novels, for whose currently authoritative English translation he is co-responsible[2] and which, in his opinion, “reveal more clearly than any other source the emperor’s personal ‘voice’ and concerns” (p. 238). The author skillfully demonstrates how imperial rule was implemented in everyday life through two groups of papyrus documents: the Apion archive (as a source for the happy cooperation between the emperor and members of the provincial elites) and the archive of Dioscorus of Aphrodito (which reveals tensions; pp. 261-276).
Piety and the cultural foundations of an increasingly uniform “‘Orthodox Republic’” are the subject of the twelfth chapter. Here the Bible is emphasized as a central point of reference for various contemporary authors (see pp. 280f.), but biblical allusions and references seem to me to play a rather subordinate role, especially in the case of John Malalas and Justinian himself. Sarris interprets Justinian’s general approach to religious policy as “flexible and pragmatic” (p. 287) and tries to illustrate this with the emperor’s efforts to find a balance between Chalcedonians and Anti-Chalcedonians (pp. 290ff.). When he also interprets the Three Chapters Controversy as a consequence of the plague, since Justinian “interpreted the arrival of the plague in fundamentally religious terms, as a punishment for sin and a call to moral and spiritual renewal” (p. 297), he seems to me to be making an important point.
As indicated, the last major section of the book (“The Great Unravelling”) is dominated by the plague. In the thirteenth chapter, Sarris speaks of “The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse” and accordingly introduces his account with the climate changes since the 530s and the subsequent famine. The plague is the focus of the following remarks and is treated in great detail (pp. 320ff.), because “The arrival of bubonic plague […] was probably the single most important event of the entire sixth century” (p. 322). Contrary to more recent relativizing theses,[3] this view should be accepted. Sarris also rightly rejects attempts to cast doubt on the descriptions of the plague by Procopius and John of Ephesus (p. 327). Parallel to the arrival of the plague, the situation of the empire deteriorated in the various theaters of war, especially in the conflict with the Persians, but also in Africa and, as discussed later (pp. 367ff.), in Italy. All this led to an increase in Kaiserkritik, and in the fourteenth chapter the author takes the opportunity to discuss Procopius’ work and other texts at length (pp. 343-66). The final chapter (“Death and Decline”) focuses on the general darkening during Justinian’s last years: “growing isolation, a tendency to rely on the advice of a small circle of old men […] and ever more pronounced religious fixations and intolerance” (p. 392), culminating in the conspiracy of 562.
Like Peter Heather,[4] Sarris concludes his book on Justinian by considering whether the emperor was responsible for the military disasters and crises of the seventh century. His answer is unequivocal: “clearly no” (p. 406).
In Sarris’ book, Justinian gains a profile as a personality to a degree unparalleled in any other recent account. As already indicated, this is due not least to the fact that the author has made the legal texts (and Justinian’s theological writings) his guiding sources, an innovative approach that will provoke productive discussion. By declaring the outbreak of the “Justinianic Plague” to be the central event of the sixth century, Sarris not only establishes a plausible reference to contemporary experience that will influence future interpretations of the “Age of Justinian”, but also positions himself with good arguments within the current discussion. His book is an important milestone in the study of Justinian and his time.
Notes
[1] Until the book of A. Sarantis, Justinian’s Balkan Wars. Campaigning, Diplomacy and Development in Illyricum, Thrace and the Northern World A.D. 527-65. ARCA 53 (Leeds: 2016).
[2] D. J. D. Miller and P. Sarris, The Novels of Justinian. A Complete Annotated English Translation, 2 vols (Cambridge: 2018).
[3] See L. Mordechai and M. Eisenberg, “Rejecting Catastrophe: The Case of the Justinianic Plague”, Past & Present 244 (2019), 3-50; L. Mordechai et al., “The Justinianic Plague: An Inconsequential Pandemic?”, Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America 116 (2019), 25546-54; and M. Eisenberg and L. Mordechai, “The Justinianic Plague and Global Pandemics: The Making of the Plague Concept”, American Historical Review 125 (2020), 1632-67. Against this, see M. Meier, “The Justinianic Plague: An ‘Inconsequential Pandemic’? A Reply”, Medizinhistorisches Journal 55 (2020), 172-99; P. Sarris, “New Approaches to the ‘Plague of Justinian’”, Past & Present 254 (2022), 315-46.
[4] P. Heather, Rome Resurgent: War and Empire in the Age of Justinian (New York/Oxford: 2018).