The imperial post was one of the glories of Roman administration, with staging-posts every eight miles on the main highways where horses or vehicles could be hired, operating on a relay system. In the West, it functioned (unevenly post c. 400) almost to the end. In the East, it was discontinued early in Justinian’s reign as a cost-cutting exercise — barring, for military reasons, the road from the capital to the Persian frontier. From the time of Constantine, clerical dignitaries were accorded special travel privileges on the post.
admitted to the bishop’s presence
I’ve had to invent scenarios introducing Theodora to Timothy and later to Severus, as we don’t know how they met. But meet them she did (which seems almost incredible considering her background, and which speaks volumes for her determination and power of personality). Not only that, she formed a deep and fruitful friendship with both men — two of the finest minds in the Roman world, from which she gained a grounding in rhetoric, a taste for intellectual conversation, and a lasting respect for the Monophysites. Altogether, her experiences in Alexandria amount to something like a Damascene conversion.
the Graeco-Roman mind
The passionate concern displayed by people of late antiquity about the nature of Christ may seem to us today to be both incomprehensible and pointless — mere sterile Christological hair-splitting. But less so perhaps, if we view this obsession as stemming from the Graeco-Roman cast of mind that sought to discover the truth via reason and logic, the two great fruits of which are (as I’ve had Timothy point out) Greek philosophy and Roman law. And lest we become too dismissive of such concerns, we should perhaps remind ourselves that our own times have witnessed preoccupations no less abstruse. Forests have died to produce endless tracts devoted to dialectical materialism, Marxist-Leninism, existentialism, etc.; while the quest to arrive at a satisfactory definition of the Trinity continues to exercise and baffle the minds of bishops at successive Lambeth Conferences. Impatience with ambiguity is what drove these late Roman theologians. The true heirs of Athanasius and Augustine may be Charles Darwin and Richard Dawkins (by way of Peter Abelard, Thomas Aquinas, John Locke and David Hume) rather than Cardinal Newman or Ronald Knox.
a kindness Theodora. . would repay a thousandfold
Once married to Justinian, Theodora — as a result of the kindness shown her in Alexandria by Timothy and Severus — persuaded her husband (who could deny her nothing) to call off the persecution of the Monophysites. Not only did this happen with immediate effect (making Theodora enormously popular with the sect) but the Monophysites actually became a favoured minority at the imperial court, with Severus himself being invited to a conference between the leaders of both the Orthodox party and the Monophysites, intended to settle their differences.
Chapter 6
gazing adoringly at her lover’s face
History has many examples of strong-willed, intelligent women who, loving their own sex as well as, or in preference to, men, have had sufficient force of character to ignore the strictures of society and live according to their nature. Examples are: Sappho, Aphra Behn (that amazing polymath and early champion of women’s rights and racial equality), perhaps Queen Anne and Catherine the Great, Anne Lister — Regency landowner, diarist and proud lesbian, Colette, Radclyffe Hall, Virginia Woolf, Vita Sackville-West, Violet Keppel (Trefusis), Frida Kahlo and many individuals associated with the Women’s Liberation movement of the 1960s and 1970s. With her intellectual interests, sturdy independence of mind, and passionate proto-feminism,* Theodora comes over to me as being very much cast in the same sort of mould as the above women. Which is not to say of course that she necessarily shared their sexual proclivities. Still, when you can tick three out of four boxes indicating traits in common, there’s a temptation also to tick the fourth, even when the answer is ‘unknown’. There’s a tantalizingly vague phrase in Gibbon which may or may not shed some light on the matter: ‘Her secret apartments were occupied by the favourite women. . whose. . passions she indulged’. It’s hard to know what to make of this. Gibbon doesn’t name his source; it’s certainly not Procopius, who would have had a field day in his Secret History, exploiting any kind of lesbian activity on Theodora’s part, had he got wind of it. And none of his contemporaries, as far as I’ve been able to find out, mentions anything that Gibbon might have been referring to. So, for want of any hard evidence one way or the other, to the question of whether Theodora was bisexual or lesbian, probably the least unsatisfactory answer has to be that good old Scots Law verdict, ‘Not proven’. Which allows me, I think, sufficient artistic licence to portray Theodora and Macedonia as lovers.
addressed to a certain ‘Petrus Sabbatius. .’
Antony Bridge in his splendid Theodora states, ‘Before returning to Constantinople she went to Antioch for a time, where she made friends with a celebrated dancer named Macedonia’. He goes on to speculate, ‘that it may well have been through her [Macedonia’s] instrumentality that Theodora. . met the man who was destined so radically to change her fortunes’ [i.e. Justinian]. He confirms, as do other sources, including Gibbon, that on her return to the capital she earned a modest living spinning wool — an enterprise which I’ve had Macedonia take a hand in. The name ‘Petrus Sabbatius’ had now been changed officially to ‘Flavius Justinianus’, for as such he is listed in the consular Fasti for the year 521, the other consul being one Valerius. ‘Flavius’ indicates favoured status as part of the imperial family, perhaps a hint that he was already being groomed as Justin’s successor.
Chapter 7
John the Cappadocian
I have introduced him rather prematurely, as he seemed the ideal person to grasp the significance of ‘the Arabia Felix Question’, and to explain its complexities to others in a clear manner. In real life originally a clerk in the office of the local Cappadocian military commander, rather than in one of the imperial scrinia (as in the story), he was actually chosen by Justinian, not Justin. Coarse and offensively outspoken, he was also loyal, efficient and incorruptible. As praetorian prefect, he made himself indispensable to Justinian through his administrative reforms, cost-cutting exercises and tax-raising measures — the last two of which made him extremely unpopular with many citizens, and were largely the cause of the Nika Riots of 532 (of which more hereafter).
Dhu-Nuwas has invaded Arabia Felix
For convenience in plotting, I’ve had the invasion of Yemen start a little earlier than was actually the case, and telescoped the events of the subsequent counter-attack into a somewhat shorter time-span. Two historical facts enabled me conveniently to involve Justinian in the expedition. Firstly: as Robert Browning in his brilliant and most readable Justinian and Theodora suggests, Justinian may have personally contacted Ella Atsbeha (Elesboas) in response to his appeal. Secondly: we know that about this time Justin offered his nephew command of the Army of the East. Paucity of information concerning Justinian’s doings at this period therefore allowed me to speculate that he might have gone to Ethiopia in a military capacity. (We know that the Romans supplied a naval force to help the Ethiopians. Whether they also sent ground troops is uncertain, although considering the importance of ‘the Arabia Felix Question’, they must have been prepared to do so, if necessary — in which case, it would have fallen to the Army of the East to provide the required contingent.)
As for the expedition itself, beyond the fact that its outcome was successful, little is known about the actual campaigning — which allowed me to use my imagination to chart its progress. In hindsight, it seems a pity that the Romans neglected to exploit the Ethiopian victory over Dhu-Nuwas — a victory which surely offered them a golden opportunity to extend their influence in Arabia, Ethiopia, and the Horn of Africa, with perhaps in time the possibility of opening up a ‘Second Front’ in the struggle against Persia. Another, and most relevant consideration (one of those intriguing ‘what ifs’ of history) is this: had the Romans followed up the recapture of Yemen with an expansionist policy in the region, then Islam might never have come to pass.