THE “FALL” OF ROME: PART II - THE MEANING OF “ROME”
In 1912 AD, Greece and other Balkan states fought to drive the weakened Ottoman Empire from its European territories in a conflict known as the First Balkan War. Greek soldiers invaded the island of Lemnos and defeated the Ottomans there. As they were mopping up, a group of children who lived on the island approached them. “Are you Greeks?” they asked. A soldier replied, “Yes. Are you?” One child proudly responded, “No. We are Romans!”
The child was not referring to the city of Rome. He was citing the islanders’ cultural identification. How could that be if Rome fell almost 1500 years prior? Let’s explore this question. In doing so, let’s first understand what “Rome” meant in the 4th and 5th centuries AD.
The Sacks
By the late 3rd century, Rome was no longer the capital of the Western Empire. In 286, Emperor Diocletian relocated the capital to Milan, primarily for its strategic proximity to the vulnerable Rhine and Danube frontiers, which were under constant threat from Germanic invasions. In the early 5th century, Emperor Honorius moved the capital again, this time to Ravenna. Despite his poor reputation, this was one of Honorius’s better decisions, as Ravenna’s surrounding marshlands made it more defensible, and its location brought it closer to the Eastern provinces, where the Empire’s center of gravity was increasingly shifting.
However, the city of Rome itself endured, despite suffering two sacks, one each in the 4th and 5th centuries.
The first sack of Rome, which occurred between 387 and 390, saw the Visigoths invade the city. (“Visigoth” meaning Western Goths, as opposed to “Ostrogoth” meaning Eastern Goths.) It was the first time Rome had been invaded since the Gallic sack 800 years earlier. As far as sacks go, this one was relatively mild. The Visigoth king, Alaric I, was not interested in conquest; he sought a high-ranking position within the Roman military. After being repeatedly denied this, only then did he resort to sacking the city.
Although the Goths were Christians, they followed a sect considered heretical by orthodox Christians (with “orthodox” here meaning Catholic; the association with Eastern Orthodoxy came later). Alaric, nonetheless, instructed his troops to spare churches and anyone who sought refuge in them. After three days of looting and receiving a bribe from the Senate, Alaric withdrew his forces.
Despite the relative mildness of the sack, it had a profound psychological impact on the Romans. One outcome was a resurgence of their determination to rise again, much as they had done in earlier centuries when faced with military defeats. Rome had a long history of returning to the fight, undaunted even by multiple defeats, until it ultimately achieved victory.
Although beaten, Rome was not defeated. The city quickly began rebuilding its damaged infrastructure and regenerating wealth. Over the next century, this made it a tempting target for the Vandals, a Germanic tribe who had migrated to North Africa and taken control from the Romans. Using the pretext that Rome had violated a peace treaty, the Vandals sacked the city in 455. The extent of the damage is debated among scholars, but it was likely more severe than the Visigoth sack. One lasting consequence is the loss of identifiable remains of Western Roman emperors, as the Vandals ransacked mausoleums and burial sites, scattering the cremated remains of many emperors. Incidentally, the modern term “vandalism” originates from this event and gives a term to wanton, senseless destruction.
Once again, Rome endured and began rebuilding. Though its population was in decline, key institutions such as the Senate and public administration remained intact. I find a useful analogy in the city of Detroit. In the mid-20th century, Detroit was vibrant and thriving, driven by its manufacturing output and a strong arts scene, including Motown. However, as those factors waned, the population dropped, and many industries closed. Yet, Detroit did not fall. The city continues today—diminished, perhaps, but with a functioning city council, residents who have found new employment, public parks, and a vital airport. Cities are resilient; one only needs to look at the aftermath of natural disasters to see how deeply ingrained the human drive to rebuild truly is. So it was with Rome, too.
Increasing Instability
After the death of Honorius in 425, the Western Roman Empire saw yet another poorly equipped ruler ascend the throne. Valentinian III ruled for 30 years, during which the Empire continued its rapid decline. After personally killing his top advisor with his sword, another aide remarked “you cut off your right hand with your left.” Following his reign, a series of short-term emperors came to power, most of whom were assassinated by usurpers or their own magistrates within a year or two of taking the throne. This increased instability in the West and culminated in the reign of Romulus Augustulus.
One notable exception was Majorian, a competent ruler who nearly succeeded in recovering all the lost Western territories and even some in the East. Majorian offered a rare moment of hope for the crumbling Empire. Tragically, his promising reign was cut short when a treacherous palace insider murdered him after only four years in charge. This leaves us with one of history’s most intriguing “what-ifs”: what might the Roman Empire have looked like if this capable leader had remained in power for many more years?
Shifting Eastward
During the 4th and 5th centuries, a significant shift occurred toward the East. Populations grew or migrated there, and the region’s influence over the Empire increased, largely due to Christianity and the city of Constantinople.
At the Battle of the Milvian Bridge in Rome, Constantine the Great dispatched his penultimate rival, Maxentius, before gaining absolute control of the Empire. The night before the battle, Constantine saw a vision in the sky – either a cross or the chi rho symbol – which led him to accept the Christian god. He inspired his troops to do the same and they handily defeated Maxentius. Christianity now had a foothold in the Empire and its influence would grow rapidly.
Theodosius I, who succeeded Constantine, played a pivotal role in this transition from pagan beliefs. He declared Christianity the official religion of the Empire and was the last emperor to rule over both the Eastern and Western halves. Upon his death in 395, the Empire was formally divided into two. His sons, Arcadius and our familiar Honorius, took control of the Eastern and Western Empires, respectively. Both were children at the time, so power was placed in the hands of senior government and military officials, some competent, many not.
A major factor in the Eastern Empire’s growing dominance was Constantinople. The city was both wealthy and exceptionally well-defended by its natural geography and the nearly impenetrable Theodosian Walls. These fortifications protected Constantinople for roughly 800 years, and remnants of them still stand in modern Istanbul, Turkey.
Religious Influence
The rise and spread of Christianity were also significant factors in the East’s growing influence. It’s important to remember that Christianity was primarily an Eastern religion during its early centuries. Although missionaries had moved westward, in the 4th- 5th centuries the center of power remained in the East. The religion grew more rapidly there, resulting in a higher concentration of bishops in the region.
Eastern bishops also had the advantage of proximity when it came to church councils, such as the one Constantine convened in Nicaea, in modern northwest Turkey. They spent less time traveling to these meetings, while bishops from Rome and other western regions sometimes received invitations too late—by the time they arrived at the meeting place, the council had already concluded.
The Problem with Byzantium
If Rome increasingly came to mean the East, why is that so misunderstood today? A large part of the confusion stems from an unfortunate term applied to the Eastern Empire in the 16th century. While this name may have been a useful shorthand to distinguish Eastern emperors from their Western counterparts, the term has since obscured the understanding that Byzantium was, in fact, Rome.
The residents of Byzantium never called themselves “Byzantine.” They considered themselves Roman, right up until the end – and beyond as the opening paragraph shows. When Constantine founded Constantinople in 330, he envisioned a Nova Roma—a New Rome — that would oversee the Empire’s eastern affairs. He encouraged Roman citizens to migrate to the city and integrated its existing residents into the social hierarchy of his new capital. While “Byzantium” was originally the name of an earlier Greek city established on the site centuries before Rome rose to prominence, its descendants were not the primary residents of Constantinople this time. They were largely migrants from the Western Empire who brought with them the institutions and traditions they had known. Constantinople had its own Senate, a public administration bureaucracy, and the Hippodrome—a vast arena for chariot races modeled after the Circus Maximus in Rome. Statues of famous Romans filled the plazas and porticos.
This association with Rome endured for centuries. Personally, I had heard of the Byzantine Empire but did not realize they were Romans until recently. I think this comes as a surprise to many. The term “Byzantine” unfortunately dilutes the true influence and longevity of Rome. From its founding in Italy in 753 BC to the fall of Constantinople to the Ottoman Turks in 1453 AD, the Roman Empire—whether with a little “e” or a big “E” — endured for over two millennia, an extraordinary span of history.
Multiple Falls
Though one could argue that Rome fell during the 15th-century Ottoman invasion, the idea of being Roman did not die so easily. Many residents of the former Eastern Empire learned to live under their Muslim overlords, who generally allowed them the freedom to practice their religion in exchange for paying extra taxes. Religion played a key role here, as the other binding factor of Romanness was Christianity. By this point, Christianity had thoroughly infused Western Europe and became the dominant force of the Middle Ages. However, the church remained strong in the East as well. Even after the Great Schism between Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy in the early 11th century, a split which followed centuries of conflict, both branches of Christianity continued to thrive and grow for centuries.
The institution of the Roman Catholic Church is evidence to some that Rome never truly fell. In its early days, the Church adopted much of the Roman administrative structure, dividing regions into dioceses—a Roman construct—with a bishop overseeing each one. Julius Caesar and subsequent emperors were given the title Pontifex Maximus (High Priest), a term still used by popes today.
As for the children of Lemnos, it seems likely they were the direct heirs of former Eastern Empire residents who clung to the traditions and religion of their distant ancestors. It’s easy to imagine that the upheaval of the World Wars and the modernization and globalization of society have nearly eradicated Roman identification, apart from those living in the city of Rome itself. But one never knows. Whether or not people still identify as Roman is beside the point. The idea of Rome, if not the entity itself, endures to this day.
All this underscores the complexity of determining “The Fall of Rome.” The term is often used too casually, oversimplifying a complex subject. Rome was continually transformed throughout its existence, making it impossible to pinpoint a single date as its definitive end. As we’ve seen, the enduring influence of Rome—especially through the Byzantine Empire and Christianity—has been greatly underestimated.
In Part III, we’ll explore the common bonds between ancient Rome and modern, Western civilization. Alongside that, I’ll point out some discrepancies between the two socieities that should assuage our fears about collapse. But in the conclusion (Part IV), I’ll present some red flags. Oversimplified summary of III & IV: “We’ll be ok. Probably.”