Ben Revkin

As I’m sure I’ve mentioned before (and probably one too many times, to your dismay), I’ve long had an affinity for the Greek-speaking sequel of Imperial Rome that we call the Byzantine Empire — or Rome 2: Constantine’s Revenge.  Accordingly, I thought that I would start offering some recommendations for Byzantine authors whom you might wish to introduce to your students.  Many of us already incorporate readings from medieval authors of Western Europe in our courses to demonstrate Rome’s lasting legacy over the centuries following the dissolution of the Empire in those regions.  By exploring the literature of Byzantium in class, our students can also observe how the Roman Empire shaped the East, where it weathered the assaults of enemies on all sides and remained a vibrant, affluent polity for most of its existence, until its final collapse in 1453; they can contrast how these influences shaped the Byzantine East with how they shaped the Latin West.
 
For our first author, we turn to the De Administrando Imperio of the emperor Constantine VII Porphyrogenitus.  Though made co-emperor with his father in 908, before he had even turned three, he spent most of his life under the thumb of various powerful regents, not ruling independently until 945.  During this time, deprived of any meaningful political power, and suffering from lingering ailments, he eagerly devoted himself (not unlike Claudius, over 900 years earlier) to academic pursuits.    He was fascinated with the administrative machinery of the Empire, and wrote several works explaining the finer points of its bureaucracy in great detail.  The De Administrando Imperio, composed a few years after he finally became the sole occupant of the imperial throne, is a foreign-policy briefing dedicated to Romanus, his son and heir (who would, unfortunately, predecease his father).  Region by region, people by people, Constantine provides his son with essential notes (albeit not always totally coherent ones) on the history and customs of the Empire’s current neighbors, and how to deal with them in peace and in war.  The work reads somewhat like a medieval version of the President’s Daily Brief.  If the Magyars are stirring up trouble, convince the Pechenegs to raid their territory (Ch. 3).  As menacing as the vast Caliphate to the south might seem, internal strife, as when the Umayyads were toppled by the Abbasids, can distract them from invading Roman territory (Ch. 21).  The Republic of Venice has long desired to remain a vassal of the true Emperor, rather than some Frankish king (Ch. 28).  The inhabitants of the Mani Peninsula, in the southern Peloponnese, are not Slavic immigrants, but indigenous Greeks, and were still cool with Zeus until the emperor Basil forced them to convert in the 9th century (Ch. 50).  And are emissaries from the Magyars or Russians requesting imperial vestments as gifts?  Well, tell those gullible barbarians that you can’t because… they’re cursed (Ch. 13).  Constantine the Great put a curse on them, and if anyone touches them who isn’t supposed to do so, they’ll die horribly.
 
Before examining the De Administrando Imperio, perhaps your students could read, in Latin, a few selections from earlier parents offering advice to their kids.  The Disticha and Monosticha of Dionysius Cato are simple maxims suitable for lower-level students.  More challenging, though more similar in its intent to Constantine’s work, is Cicero’s De Officiis.  Like Constantine, Cicero desired to guide his son into a successful career in government.  Which approach do the students find to be more effective?  Which do they think would ultimately be more useful — Cicero’s philosophical musings or Constantine’s pragmatism?  If they were going to write a book of advice for their own children, on which topics would they focus?