Belisarius: The Last Roman General Read online

  It is not, therefore, unreasonable to conjecture that most of the large-scale Sasanid invasions of imperial territory, such as on the occasions that they reached Antioch, were either to deflect domestic criticisms and reduce internal pressure for political change, or a counterattack to restore the balance in Persia’s favour after a damaging defeat. The need for equilibrium helps to explain the fact that conflict in the east was centred not upon large-scale battles and capturing territory, but upon sieges, small-scale victories and the establishing of spheres of interest and relatively minor territorial gains. When, in 395, this balance was seriously threatened, the two empires combined to neutralise the threat.

  It is interesting to note that when the system broke down in 607, a full-scale invasion of Rome by Khusrow II quickly resulted in the capture of Mesopotamia and Syria, with Egypt falling in 616. A counter-invasion by Heraclius caused the deposition and murder of Khusrow by his own nobles, who then sued for peace in 628. The whole affair weakened both empires and the recently united Arabs, fired by Islam, wiped out the Persian Empire completely (637–19) and conquered all of the non-European Byzantine territories outside Asia Minor by 646.

  Therefore, when Justinian came to the throne in 527 he inherited relatively stable frontiers in the east, where the only real threat was from the Persians, who appeared willing to play a game of small-scale warfare. However, this was liable to change at minimal notice, so there would always be a need to maintain a large military force in the East.

  Chapter 2

  The Byzantine Court and the Early Life of Belisarius

  The Bureaucracy in Constantinople

  A Roman emperor could not hope to run the empire alone. As a consequence, over time a large bureaucracy built up which increasingly gained a life of its own. From significantly earlier than Justinian’s reign, the various military and bureaucratic posts were much prized. For the higher echelons of the bureaucracy this was with a view to becoming one of the emperor’s closest advisors, or, for the most optimistic, perhaps even being raised to the throne in person – though it is unlikely that such lofty ambition was the norm.

  In many instances the power behind the throne was likely to be a member of the imperial family, for example Justina the mother of Valentinian III or, on a lesser scale of influence, Euphemia wife of Justin – although Euphemia had to vie with Justinian for most influence with Justin. Even when such an influential individual existed, for most candidates the aim was to rise through the ranks and become a close advisor to the emperor – one of his intimate circle. In this way they would have a hand in controlling the destiny of the empire and, as a small dividend, become fabulously wealthy. For the heart of the imperial bureaucracy was, to all intents and purposes, corrupt.

  There was a large number of important and influential imperial posts, with innumerable lesser posts below them. At the top of the pile were the prefects of the East (Thrace, Asia and Egypt), and the prefect of Illyricum (Dacia, Macedonia and Greece). There was also the prefect of Constantinople and the quaestor of the sacred palace (head of the Privy Council). Furthermore, the top jobs were merely the heads of sections. As a guide to the size of some of these departments, one major bureau of the government was under the comes sacrarum largitionum (Count of the Sacred Largesses). His department was divided into eighteen sub-groups, each of which was graded into seven classes in order of rank.

  Over all of these was the magister officiorum (Master of Offices), who had authority over all of the civil service, especially secretarial departments in the palace, but also the cursus publicus (public post), the agentes in rebus (secret service) and the state arms factories. These state officers were served by huge numbers of clerks and assistants.

  Yet these were only the civilian posts. There were also the military ranks, such as the magister utriusque militae (Master of all the Troops) previously mentioned and the magister militum per Orientem (Master of Troops in the East), plus a long series of ranks down to the commanders of pairs of units within the army.

  On the civilian side, all of the preferred posts brought with them a measure of power and access to the higher positions in the hierarchy. But most of all, the uppermost ranks gained access to the emperor and some, such as the magister officiorum, gained control of who had an audience with the emperor. This was a very privileged position and was often abused. The bribes needed to secure an audience with the emperor would remain a source of disgust to petitioners in Constantinople until the end of the empire. Of course, if you offended an upper dignitary, it was unlikely that you would see the emperor at all.

  On the military side, there was the prestige and fame of winning major battles, which in itself would bring wealth and power. There might also be the added temptation of rebellion – if your army was large enough and there were enough troops in your command loyal enough to challenge the emperor himself. As a result, the top army posts were only awarded to men the emperor thought he could trust, and even then not without restrictions – as we shall see later.

  Apart from the power of the top assignments, there was much to be gained from a civil appointment. In the Later Empire society was very highly stratified, and in the uppermost echelons rank was graded according to position in the hierarchy. It is easy to understand why rank was important to the workforce; it let them know where they stood in relation to each other.

  All senators now ranked as clarissimus (illustrious), yet this was now on only the third tier of the pecking order. The higher rank of spectabile (notable) was now only granted, for example, to some of the higher provincial governorships plus some eunuch officers of the imperial bedchamber. The top level, illustris (famous), was reserved for consuls, patricians and occupiers of the uppermost ministries within government. As a further bonus, alongside the rank and titles came extra privileges, such as protection from prosecution in the courts and sportulae (fees on the side); it was usually possible to recover the money spent on gaining a post in this manner.

  As a result, to avoid being left on the third tier as a clarissimus, senators now needed jobs in the government in order to progress. In this they came into contention with upwardly-mobile members of the equestrian ‘middle classes’. This was especially the case in the army, where many of the latter coveted posts involving military rank so that they would be eligible for the annona (entitlement to provisions).

  Accordingly, competition for jobs was fierce and usually revolved around a combination of family/personal influence, a patron’s personal recommendation and, of course, bribery. Nor should it be thought that this was reserved for the comparatively lower echelons of the bureaucracy. The story goes that when the Emperor Anastasius died, his chief eunuch, Amantius, told the general of the palace guards, the comes excubitorum, of his plans to elevate one of his associates to be emperor. Consequently, he gave the general a large amount of gold with which to bribe the soldiers. Although the story may not be true, the fact that it could be told and be believed shows the level that such bribery could reach. Incidentally, the plan failed: the Excubitores guard unit proclaimed their general, Justin – who had been given the gold – as emperor on the following day. Not surprisingly, he kept the gold. He happened to be Justinian’s uncle and immediate predecessor.

  To modern readers the whole system might be seen as corrupt beyond repair, yet some modern bureaucracies in western Europe still appear to function on patronage and recommendation – depending upon which schools and university the applicant attended. Nor should historians of the Republic and Early Empire condemn it. It was the natural extension of the Republican ‘patronage’ system taken to its logical extreme. Indeed, by the fifth century payment for office had become the norm and in 444 Theodosius II had even regularised and regulated it by law. Furthermore, it is likely that the level of bribery was usually kept within acceptable limits, even ignoring existing legislation. Anyone upsetting the balance by spending too much money may have been labelled an ‘upstart’ and been the victim of a backlash from higher ranks anxious to
preserve their positions. Looked at from the outside the system may well have been corrupt, but this should not blind us to one salient point: it worked. It not only worked, but it lasted until Constantinople fell in 1453.

  Alongside the scheming and plotting to ensure that the top posts were filled with ‘suitable appointees’ (ie your own men), there was another side to imperial politics. This was the ‘class’ struggle that was pursued at all levels between the established, cultured and highly-educated elite against the poorly-educated men that nevertheless achieved high rank, especially during the course of a military career. Indeed, this may have been a source of the resentment of Procopius in the Anekdota, since he portrays Justin as an ill-educated buffoon who needed a stencil in order to write the word legi (‘I have read this’) on documents for them to become legally valid.

  For aristocratic families raised in the classical tradition of Greek, Latin and rhetoric, to have an ‘illiterate peasant’ from an unknown village in Thrace as emperor was likely to be particularly galling. They would have been unable to show their classical education by alluding to events from Homer or Virgil in his presence, since he would clearly not have understood the reference, nor comprehended and acknowledged their skills.

  Hardly less appalling would be the expected round of promotions from within the emperor’s intimate circle. These would likely come from those closest to him, who would undoubtedly be of similar, rough, peasant stock. Furthermore, it is likely that they would oust men who had spent a fortune and lost years of their lives to reach their soon-to-be-lost lofty positions. The background intrigues and political schemes of those who had lost out would have likely taken on a sharper, more personal edge, even amounting to vendetta.

  Yet it is clear that Justinian’s uncle, Justin, recognised that to many he remained unacceptable. It is interesting to note that he ensured that Justinian obtained a classical education at Constantinople so that Justinian would not face, either openly or in secret, the derision or disdain that was likely to be aimed at Justin. Yet the tutoring Justinian received could not eradicate the lowly nature of his birth or stop the aristocracy disliking being subservient to him. After all, although he was the nephew of an emperor, he would probably still be seen as a lowborn peasant, and it is unlikely that he could eradicate all trace of his Thracian accent when speaking Greek or Latin.

  Upon being made emperor, Justinian did not act in a manner to endear him to the nobility. As we have seen, their main source of prestige and power was employment in the civil service, and Justin had already made many changes. In order to decrease the amount of revenues being spent on administration, Justinian ordered a cut-back in the civil service. Many lost their jobs and their status, and in return acquired a sense of injustice and betrayal.

  The very size of the civil service and the large part it played in the lives of the nobility and upwardly mobile did mean that change was always resisted. Such an attitude was probably one of the causes of Byzantine stagnation; in particular, the Byzantines believed that the emperor reflected the glory of God and his employees reflected the role of the angels. Therefore, Byzantine methods of operation were a reflection of Divine practice and were thus clearly perfect and needed no alterations. As a result, any change, whatever the motive, was not only unnecessary but verging on blasphemous. Furthermore, the trend for some time had been towards Greek replacing Latin as the language of the law. This was seen by many as a betrayal of their Roman heritage, and by some at least as a break with tradition bordering on the sacrilegious: in an age of superstition, such a rupture with their ancestral past was a bad omen.

  It is when looking at the prejudice inherent in the noble classes that we need to take note of our sources. It is probable that most of the invective aimed at Justinian, his wife Theodora and Belisarius’ wife Antonina in the Anekdota of Procopius was solely due to their being seen as of too common a stock for high positions at court. It should not be forgotten that Procopius had early acquired a traditional education in the Greek classics and law, implying that his family was relatively wealthy. Furthermore, the likelihood of his being of at least middle rank is reinforced by his appointment to such a high position as secretary to the new magister militum per Orientem, Belisarius, at a relatively young age. Procopius’ family may have had wealth, a relatively distinguished ancestry and long-standing connections at court; Justinian, Theodora and Antonina did not. This was likely to be of some importance later in Belisarius’ career.

  It is also conceivable that Procopius was further dismayed by the rivalries, jealousies and intrigues that took place at the court. Normally, if an emperor was a member of one of the older, noble families, individuals would know roughly what to expect and where they stood in the pecking order. With Justin and Justinian being outsiders, it is likely that the uncertainty of the times resulted in a more frenzied court life than was the norm. An example of this took place in 541, when the Empress Theodora and Antonina conspired against John of Cappadocia, the praetorian prefect and a personal enemy of Theodora. It was an open secret that John desired to become emperor. Antonina arranged to meet him and induced him to reveal how he would achieve his objective. This was related to Theodora and John lost his job, his wealth and his personal property, but was exiled as a monk rather than being executed, possibly for fear of rousing residual aristocratic support against the emperor.

  On the whole, Procopius appears to have been sickened by the political rivalries, jealousies and intrigues present in the court during the reign of Justinian, to the point where he wrote the Anekdota as a rebuke to all of the people involved. It is possible that he began his career with an idealistic view of the emperor and his court, and when this was at odds with reality he felt no option but to voice his disgust.

  Finally, there was Justinian’s relationship with Theodora. Justinian himself realised that neither he nor Theodora fit well into the imperial model. It is possible that, alongside his obvious attraction to the eminently-unsuitable courtesan Theodora, lay the tempting possibility of further irritating the arrogant nobles of the court. For Theodora had a chequered background. Her father was apparently a man who was a bear keeper at the Hippodrome and her mother was allegedly an acrobat. This was not a woman who could or would expect to be welcome in polite society.

  Yet there was a major aspect of Theodora’s past that would endear her to Justinian. They were both attached to the Blues. Blue and Green were originally the colours associated with the two principal teams of chariot racers at the Hippodrome. By the time of Justinian, the two factions had left simple racing behind and had assumed semi-political status. The Blues tended to be the party of landowners and the Graeco-Roman aristocracy; the Greens were affiliated with trade, industry and the civil service. Naturally, wishing to reform the civil service, Justinian tended to sympathise with the Blues.

  The antagonism between the two parties could easily expand into full-scale riots, yet, far from attempting to diminish their influence, Justinian and Theodora seem to have allowed their favouritism for the Blues to enable the Blues to gain the upper hand. This was to have far-reaching consequences for Justinian’s reign, especially during the Nika riots, as we shall.

  The importance of the tensions and conflicts both at court and in the capital city will become clearer when we look at the life of Belisarius in detail. All that needs to be remembered at this stage is that politics and society in the imperial city were fraught with tensions and violence, factors that were to have an enormous impact upon the career of Belisarius himself.

  Belisarius

  It is unfortunate in the extreme that the rise to power of Justin and Justinian should be concurrent with the birth and early career of Belisarius. The existing sources for this period concentrate upon the ascent of Justin and the activities of Justinian as the power behind the throne and then as emperor himself. The fact that the sources are unclear concerning much of the early lives of the emperors Justin and Justinian gives an indication of their lack of coverage for the lesser pers
onality of Belisarius.

  Belisarius appears to have been born in the town of Germana – now Saparevska Banya in western Bulgaria – sometime around the start of the sixth century (probably between 500 and 505). Although nothing is known concerning his family or his upbringing, it is conspicuous that nowhere in the Anekdota does Procopius mention his ancestry. Although this may be due to a lingering regard for the general, given the nature of the Anekdota it would seem natural that, if he was as lowborn as Justinian, Theodora and Antonina, the fact would have been mentioned, if only as a comparison to the objects of Procopius’ hatred.

  The theory that Belisarius was of a relatively high status gains further credence when it is linked to the story of John the Cappadocian related above. John clearly expected Belisarius’ wife to support John’s attempt to gain the throne, yet there is no evidence to suggest that Belisarius conspired against Justinian. As a consequence, John’s trust is only understood if he expected the support of a fellow noble against the Thracian upstart, especially considering the friendship of Antonina and Theodora.