When emperor Constantine decided to embrace the Christian god, he not only elevated a deity to prominence in the Roman Empire: he also unwittingly elevated himself to a kind of arbiter of Christendom, as he soon discovered. In this book, a revised doctoral thesis at the University of Manchester (2019), Andrew J. Pottenger seeks to answer “how and why [Constantine] intervened in matters internal to the churches” (3), specifically, in the Donatist and Arian controversies.
In an elegant introduction, Pottenger lays out his goals and method, previews the six chapters of the book, and summarizes recent scholarship on Constantine and his involvement in Christian controversy. Chapter 1 is dedicated to Pottenger’s primary sources, a body of roughly forty letters written by Constantine (or in his name) in the context of the Donatist and Arian schisms between the years 312 and 328.
In the clearly written, well-organized chapters that follow, Pottenger illustrates how what he calls “doctrines of power” in Constantine’s correspondence “affect his actual use of imperial power regarding the issues that divided his Christian subjects” (3). Pottenger explains, “I use the term ‘doctrine’ to describe a belief, or an assumption, which has a purpose but lacks complete, systematic expression” (4).
These doctrines are: “the doctrine of divine favour and agency” (chapter 2); “the doctrine of ecclesiastical unity” (chapter 3); “the doctrine of resistance and compromise” (chapters 4 and 5). In chapter 6, Pottenger examines how these doctrines functioned in Constantine’s later reign (325–337). A brief conclusion and a list of primary sources in an appendix conclude the book. As is typical with Routledge, references take the form of endnotes at the end of each chapter; sources are generally cited in translation in the body text.
“The doctrine of divine favour and agency” is the premise on which the others depend. “Constantine’s primary concern as the ‘servant of God’ was the successful management of divine support upon which he prominently declared his life, power, and the public welfare depended” (87). Constantine was “convinced that any disturbances in religion might provoke God’s vengeance”; he therefore assumed personal responsibility for Christian unity and strove to restore divine favor by reconciling feuding Christians (63).
Pottenger next analyzes Constantine’s efforts to achieve unity. Constantine’s vision of ecclesiastical unity was “characterized by both uniformity and inclusivity”; he insisted on institutional unity but allowed theological flexibility. Pottenger shows how Constantine’s language shifts from metaphors of madness and reason (106–112) to sickness and healing (112–118) around the year 324. His responses to the Donatists and Arians illustrate different approaches to what Constantine viewed, respectively, as institutional and theological disputes.
This duality is carried forward in chapters 4 and 5. In chapter 4, Pottenger traces the history of Constantine’s frustrating confrontation with the Donatists, whom he accused of “obstinacy” and ultimately “madness” for their intractability—although he stopped short of resorting to violence. In chapter 5, Pottenger surveys the persuasive strategies deployed by Constantine in his correspondence with the protagonists of the Arian controversy after the Council of Nicaea. Constantine adopts a gentler, persuasive approach in these letters.
Paradoxically for a book titled Power and rhetoric, Pottenger engages very little with classical rhetoric.[1] Pottenger scrutinizes Constantine’s letters for “aesthetic arguments,” a concept adopted from modern philosophy and political philosophy (cf. 178n4, 179n18). Pottenger defines “aesthetic” as “language used when speaking or writing of that which is judged ‘fitting’, ‘proper’, ‘seemly’, and so on” (157), whereby “an individual with authority intended to communicate the reasonableness of complying with his wishes” (158). But I fail to see much difference between “aesthetic” in this sense and the usual term “rhetorical.” Arguments from τὸ πρέπον or decorum are ubiquitous in classical rhetoric.[2]
Pottenger also makes much of the way that Constantine phrases commands in “language of possibility” (157, 161, and passim in chapter 5).[3] But use of the polite optative in Greek and the subjunctive in Latin is pervasive in imperial documents of this period. In the Theodosian Code, the simple imperative (“do this!”) and blunt commands in the future active indicative (“you will do this!”) are the exception rather than the rule. Language of possibility is the default mode of expression in most imperial documents of this era.
In chapter 6, Pottenger shows how the doctrines of power continued to guide Constantine in the last decade of his reign. Pottenger cites “the doctrine of resistance and compromise” to account for Constantine’s vacillations between the Arian and Nicene camps during these years (187). Pottenger argues that Constantine’s “role as ‘final arbiter of law and justice’” (188) led him to adjudicate disputes between Christians as an impartial judge—in effect, Pottenger separates Constantine the judge from Constantine the de facto ecclesiastical authority. Pottenger plausibly argues that Constantine’s decisions were guided by an inclusive rather than a rigorously orthodox interpretation of the Council of Nicaea, but I still do not see a coherent policy or doctrine behind Constantine’s perplexing decisions in this stage of the Arian controversy.
I found the section, “The persuasive power of the imperial presence” (191–201) the most insightful and stimulating of the book. Here, Pottenger shows how Constantine utilized his physical presence (or at least the threat of it) as “a reward for compliance, a threat of punishment . . . or to declare his intention to judge in a particular dispute” (192). It really is striking how often Constantine threatened to come personally to resolve disputes, even if he never actually followed up his threats. The prospect of a visit may have been terrifying enough. But, as Pottenger notes, Constantine balanced his threats of visitation with “invitations” to court—invitations it was perilous to refuse and, in the case of Arius, perhaps also perilous to accept, given his sudden death in a public latrine in Constantinople.[4] Further study of this idea with a wider range of sources might prove very rewarding.
While Power and rhetoric is an engaging and interesting book, I must conclude with a critique: The scholarly discussion in which Pottenger participates is entirely in English. All the works cited in the introductory survey of recent scholarship are in English. Whenever Pottenger cites rival scholarly views, all the protagonists are English-speakers.[5] Again and again, “some/several/most scholars” all turn out to write in English.[6] All this literature is stimulating and a worthwhile contribution to the scholarly discussion, but it hardly exhausts that discussion.[7]
Pottenger claims that “there has not been any focused examination of language in Constantine’s correspondence that explores how particular themes, figures of speech, and other strategies of argument contributed to his engagements with ecclesiastical conflicts” (10), and that “no major scholar of Constantine’s reign has yet attempted to understand the particular kinds of unity he desired relative to the churches’ hierarchies, practices, and teachings” (99). That is not true.
Constantine’s correspondence was the subject of two major German studies published by Hermann Dörries and Heinz Kraft respectively in 1954 and 1955.[8] Both these works consist of two parts: systematic analysis of each letter and synthetic analysis of their major themes. These works would have been an ideal starting point for Pottenger. One need not even go back seventy years. A new commented translation of Constantine’s letters appeared in French in 2010,[9] and a massive volume published in Italian in 2016 also covers the Donatist and Arian dossiers.[10] And other monographs anticipate Pottenger’s arguments. Klaus Girardet, for example, succinctly summarized Constantine’s experience with the Donatists and Arians in a chapter that echoes several of Pottenger’s themes.[11] None of this literature is cited.
Notes
[1] Pottenger cites only George A. Kennedy, Classical Rhetoric and its Christian and Secular Tradition from Ancient to Modern Times 2nd ed. (Chapel Hill 1999) (twice: 18n22 and 49n12) and Susan P. Mattern, Galen and the Rhetoric of Healing (Baltimore 2008) (three times: 123n61, 124n62, and 124n64).
[2] See, e.g., Jan Dietrich Müller, Decorum. Konzepte von Angemessenheit in der Theorie der Rhetorik von den Sophisten bis zur Renaissance (Berlin 2011), and, specifically about Constantine, Jill Harries, “Superfluous Verbiage? Rhetoric and Law in the Age of Constantine and Justinian,” Journal of Early Christian Studies 19:3 (2011): 345–374.
[3] E.g., “might” and “may” be able (174, citing Urkunde 29 in Hans-Georg Opitz, Athanasius Werke 3.1: Urkunden zur Geschichte des Arianischen Streites (Berlin 1934). Both these words translate the same verb: δυνηθείης (“might be able”).
[4] Constantine’s threats recall some of his more impetuous edicts, such as CTh 9.1.4 (a. 325), in which he invites provincials to come to court to denounce corrupt imperial officials. Then again, a year before, Constantine had prohibited municipal council members from traveling to court without leave from their governor (CTh 12.1.9, a. 324).
[5] See, e.g. the scholars whose opinions are cited on p. 80, 187, and 203.
[6] Examples: “scholars” (35, 75, 130 with 148n1, 229 with 231n19); “several scholars” (63); “some scholars” (82 with 95n168); “most scholars” (85 with 95n184); “historians” (99 with 120n12). Seventeen different scholars are cited in these notes (some repeatedly); all write in English.
[7] A handful of works in other languages appears in the bibliography, but almost all of them are cited only once, and they tend to cluster in omnibus references introduced by “see also” or “important works on [subject] include . . .”
[8] Hermann Dörries, Das Selbstzeugnis Kaiser Konstantins (Göttingen 1954) and Heinz Kraft, Kaiser Konstantins religiöse Entwicklung (Tübingen 1955).
[9] Pierre Maraval (trans.), Constantin le Grand. Lettres et discours (Paris 2010).
[10] Alessandro Barbero, Costantino il Vincitore (Rome 2016), “parte terza: Le dispute teologiche e le ‘lettere di Costantino’” (353–472).
[11] Klaus M. Girardet, Die Konstantinische Wende. Voraussetzungen und geistige Grundlagen der Religionspolitik Konstantins des Großen (Darmstadt 2006), 133–146 (e.g. the sections “Einheitsgedanke,” “Repression und Duldung,” “‘Werbung um Abkehr vom ‘Wahnsinn’”). Girardet subsequently dedicated an entire monograph to Constantine’s religious thought and policy: Der Kaiser und sein Gott. Das Christentum im Denken und in der Religionspolitik Konstantins des Großen (Berlin 2010).