The question of how monotheism affects the idea of monarchy in the Roman empire has been intensively discussed ever since Erik Peterson’s “Der Monotheismus als Politisches Problem.”.[1] Peterson argues that in Eusebius of Caesarea’s ‘Arian theology’ the one divine monarch corresponds to one earthly monarch, ‘orthodox’ trinitarian theology, focusing on the equality in Trinity, threatends the political theology of the Roman empire. In his book Christ the Emperor, Smolin expands this thesis by seeking to link the political and theological aspects of the thought of different authors on the Trinitarian controversy in the fourth century. He explains the absence of political discussions of the emperor in other sources by arguing that such discussion shifted from political to theological literature: “the alleged absence of explicitly political theorising in 4th century texts is in fact the result of the partial migration of these discourses from the realm of secular politics to that of public Christian theology” (2). Smolin identifies three levels within the sources regarding the association of divine and earthly rulership: the rhetorical, the cosmic, and the metaphysical level (5).
The monograph is divided into two main sections: the first part (‘Emperors and Eusebian Political Theology, AD 306-361’) covers the reign of Constantine and his son Constantius II and the theological discussions on Christ and the emperor in the eastern part of the empire. The second part (‘Nicene Political Theology in the Episcopal Opposition to Constantius II’) focuses on the works of Lucifer of Cagliari and Hilary of Poitiers (both western theologians exiled to the east) with regard to their understanding of Trinity and imperial power.
Smolin examines the complex relationship between the the bishops and Constantine in the light of his ‘usurpation’, particularly his interference with episcopal decisions and the authoritative claims that he made to bishops (13-43). Constantine’s rejection of Arian theology in the aftermath of the Council of Nicaea is visible in the Letter to the Nicomedians and the Letter to Arius. The divine active will (βούλησης) and δύναμις, through which power is exercised are distinctive features of a developing Constantinian theology that intends to maintain divine unity and provide a connection to the exercise of power and his self-presentation as a ‘cosmic emperor’: the monarch is characterized by “his potential to act” (61). The presentation of Constantinian theology is interrupted by an analysis of Eusebius Adversus Marcellum and his panegyrical speech De laudibus Constantini.[2] The Eusebian concept of Trinity, which uses image-theology and thinks in hierarchical terms is characterised as follows: “Eusebius’ picture of cosmic order is defined primarily not by metaphysical ideas of shared nature or essence, but by the deceptively simple concept of rank or status, a pervasive spatial and social reality that unifies the cosmos as a whole” (77). As the divine Word governs the cosmos, Constantine governs the earth.[3] This hierarchy also concerns the rank of bishops: “this basic concept of status both across and within cosmic and social categories is applied by Eusebius also to the interactions and inter-relationships of Christian bishops” (77).
Smolin argues that the Oration to the Saints (which he dates after 327 AD) reveals a shift in Constantine’s theological perspective, now leaning toward a more Eusebian/Arian interpretation that stresses the son’s inferiority compared to his earlier letters. Smolin does not consider the Origenist background to this theology,[4] although Origen’s thought is reflected in Eusebius and Constantine, particularly regarding the concept of divine ‘will’ and the explanation of the generation of the Son (103).[5] Smolin does not engage with Maraval’s comprehensive study of Constantine’s (theological) correspondence,[6] yet still states that “these documents have not been widely employed by historians” (44). One might ask what Smolin’s reason was for only commenting on Adversus Marcellum / De laudibus Constantini and not engaging with earlier Eusebian writings, as the bishop provides deeper insights into the metaphysical Father-Son relationship already in his early writings – notably describing the son as the ‘image’ (εἰκών) of God, the latter being a ‘universal king’ (παμβασιλεύς) (Praeparatio evangelica 7,15,1-2). Regarding Adversus Marcellum, a more thorough interpretation would have helped to clarify and support the hypothesis that Eusebius applies a cosmic hierarchical structure also to the hierarchy of bishops. In the passages that are quoted this does not seem obvious to the reviewer, as Eusebius’ argument mostly refers to his great reputation as a bishop and his publishing output.
Smolin then offers a history of the Trinitarian controversy from an imperial perspective. Constantius has been, according to Smolin, largely neglected by scholars (122), and ancient sources on him are mostly hostile.[7] He convincingly outlines the problems at the beginning of Constantius’ reign, including his struggles with the bishops, his reliance on the authority of his dead father, and his search for (theological) legitimacy in a divided empire (as expressed in the divided Council of Serdica). After the civil war with the usurper Magnentius, Constantius was sole emperor. The Council of Sirmium (351 CE) was intended to establish the primacy of the Father which, according to Smolin, had a political meaning: “In such a cosmos, there cannot exist two colleagues in either divinity or Imperial power.” (171) Furthermore, at the Council of Milan (355 CE), Constantius reclaimed his authority over the (western) Church by exiling defenders of Nicaea such as Lucifer of Cagliari and Hilary of Poitiers. In the creed of Sirmium (357 CE), Smolin discovers a political meaning: As the son is inferior “in honour and value, social status and metaphysical divinity”, these bishops, who have crafted the creed, are superior to the other bishops in “their own subjection to their superior the Emperor.” (205). A few years later (in another attempt to solve the controversy), a Homoian creed was enforced (e.g., the Dated Creed of 359 CE).[8] Regarding the suggested connection between divine, cosmic, and imperial hierarchy within the different creeds, a discussion of the Greek (political) terminology (such as τάξις and τιμή) would have contributed to the argument. Smolin then summarizes, mostly relying on the work of Anatolios,[9] Athanasius’ De decretis Nicaenae Synodi as a counter-draft to Eusebian cosmic theology: Athanasius “turn[s] divine imminence and activity into demonstrations of transcendence and goodness” (177). This goes hand-in-hand with an egalitarian view of humanity that derives from the bishop’s concept of creation.
The last part of the book is devoted to Lucifer of Cagliari and Hilary of Poitiers. Smolin summarises various aspects of Lucifer’s polemical works to show how the emperor is attacked from a theological perspective. By referring to Scripture, Lucifer deconstructs Eusebius of Caesarea’s ‘cosmic emperor’, equating the Old Testament prophets who called the Israelite kings to account for their misbehaviour with the bishops who reminded the emperor of the right faith. On the other hand, Hilary of Poitiers is seen as a theologian who “presents himself as a wronged petitioner” (299) and tries to create a consensus between the bishops by using the concept of “unity through equality” (mirrored “in the equal relationship of Father and Son” [314) while simultaneously putting forward his “sense of his own episcopal status, which gives him license to speak…with an authority greater than that of the Emperor” [299]).
The epilogue offers an outline of the power-shifts after Constantius’ death, which finally enabled a compromise between the different theological groups.
One may raise the question (again): Do the creedal statements / creeds of the fourth century reflect a cosmic hierarchy in which the emperor takes his place or are they rather (unsuccessful but authoritative) attempts to overcome arguments advanced by many bishops against the Creed of Nicaea? Smolin argues for the first option. His thesis would have been better supported if he had clearly applied the three categories given in the introduction (rhetorical, cosmic, and metaphysical level, see above) to the creedal statements, as apart from Eusebius, the link between divine and imperial hierarchy is often not obvious. Moreover, the discussion of alternative interpretations of the texts and an overview on the critical reception of Peterson would have helped to make the thesis more persuasive.
The reviewer’s main criticism concerns the lack of clarity regarding the interpretation of key texts. Often little context is provided, including the dating and trustworthiness of sources (although Appendix B provides a helpful dating and discussion of some sources). For example, when referring to Eusebius’ Epistula ad Ecclesiam Caesariensem as an expression of Constantine’s theology, Smolin neglects its aim: Eusebius defends himself for having accepted the Nicaean creed (after his rejection of it in Antioch). The imperial will and presence furnish him with a justification for having changed his mind. Therefore, in the reviewer’s opinion, Eusebius’ theological explanation cannot uncritically be regarded as “Constantine’s interpretation of key terminology” (51) but as an Eusebian attempt to rephrase certain problematic terms such as ὁμοούσιος and the coeternity of the Son (Epistula 7/16) to make them acceptable to his parish.
Smolin quotes his own English translations to support his argument but does not offer a detailed analysis of the Greek and Latin texts (although I understand that this is probably due to the limitations and constraints of the publisher, cf. 27 n. 72). In some cases, however, this can—in the reviewer’s view—lead to an unsatisfactory analysis. For example, according to Smolin, the Oration to the Saints shows Constantine’s adoption of Arian/Eusebian theology. He substantiates this claim by citing Orat. 9.4 (102-103). However, there is almost no interpretation of those passages which might contradict his thesis. For example, the Greek text of Orat. 9.3 reads: καὶ δύο οὐσίας τῷ ἀριθμῷ διεῖλε, μιᾶς οὔσης τῆς ἀμφοτέρων τελειότητος. Smolin translates: “[Plato] distinguished two in the number of οὐσίαι, although there was one completeness (τελειότης) for both.” Yet, he neither sufficiently explains the Platonic framework of the passage, nor how the second part of the sentence (μιᾶς οὔσης τῆς ἀμφοτέρων τελειότητος) fits into Constantinian theology, as the one (!) τελειότης (‘perfection/completeness’) is emphasised.
In the bibliography Smolin lists only the editions of (some) Christian authors, while the writings of other (especially pagan) authors quoted in his book are not listed at all (e.g., Ammianus, Epiphanius, Irenaeus, the emperor Julian, Libanius, Philostorgius).
Nevertheless, Smolin’s monograph is a respectable attempt to broaden the perspective of political theology in the fourth century, going further than Peterson by offering a larger body of texts (and not just those from Eusebius, as Peterson did). He contributes to scholarship that has tried to elucidate the complex relationship between the Constantinian dynasty and the Christian Church. By considering a variety of sources, he provides helpful insights into how the emperor’s status and self-image, as well as the perception of cosmic dominion, are reflected in contemporary theological sources and thus offers some new ideas to ‘political theology’ in the fourth century. The analysis of the theology of Lucifer of Cagliari and Hilary of Poitiers provides an interesting approach to political discussion in these authors. Beyond the polemic against the emperor, their understanding of divine, imperial, and episcopal power is explained. Furthermore, Appendix A is helpful in providing an overview of the date and content of the many different councils in the fourth century.
Notes
[1] E. Peterson, Der Monotheismus als politisches Problem: ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der politischen Theologie im Imperium Romanum (Leipzig 1935). Against Peterson see A. Schindler, Monotheismus als politisches Problem? Erik Peterson und die Kritik der politischen Theologie (Gütersloh 1978). For more recent scholarship see G. Caronello (ed.) Erik Peterson. Die theologische Präsenz eines Outsiders (Berlin 2012); B. Nichtweiß (ed.), Vom Ende der Zeit. Geschichtstheologie und Eschatologie bei Erik Peterson; Symposium Mainz 2000 (Münster / Hamburg 2001).
[2] Smolin does not engage with the recent edition: Eusebius, La théologie politique de l’empire chrétien. Louanges de Constantin, trad. orig. et notes par P. Maraval. (Paris 2001).
[3] This case has alredy been made by Peterson, Monotheismus, 74-79.
[4] Even though Smolin mentions Origen’s importance, he does not discuss his theology.
[5] Cf. Origen, princ. I,2,4-5. For ‘will’ see e.g. C. Bruns, Trinität und Kosmos. Zur Gotteslehre des Origenes, (Münster 2013), 107.
[6] P. Maraval (trans.), Constantin le Grand. Lettres et discours (Paris 2010).
[7] Apart from Philostorgius, it might have been worth mentioning Aurelius Victor, who also paints a positive picture of Constantius.
[8] C. Markschies, ‘Politische Dimensionen des homöischen Bekenntnisses. Oder: Ursacius and Valens in Sirmium 359 n. Chr.’ (in: Uta Heil / Jörg Ulrich (ed.), Kirche und Kaiser in Antike und Spätantike: Festschrift für Hanns Christof Brennecke zu 70. Geburtstag (Berlin/Boston 2017), 111-130 addresses the question of ‘political theology’ but is missing in the bibliography.
[9] K. Anatolios, Athanasius: The coherence on his thought (London 1998).