Justinian

by Ross Laidlaw

  When, after a lengthy pause no answer had been forthcoming, John sighed ostentatiously and continued, ‘A crisis, gentlemen, that’s what it means — a crisis linked to spices, silk, and Christianity.’ Raising his considerable bulk from his seat, he moved to an easel supporting a large wall-map showing the Arabian peninsula, the Sinus Arabicus, and the adjoining coast of Africa. With a pointer, he rapped the south-west tip of Arabia. ‘Arabia Felix — the home of an ancient race, the Sabaeans. It comes within the sphere of influence of Aethiopia, which has extended its power across the straits which the Arabs call Bab-el-Mandeb — the Gate of Tears, from shipwrecks caused by the strong currents there. Arabia Felix is now virtually an Aethiopian colony. Aethiopia, as I’m sure I don’t need to remind you, has been Christian for the past two hundred years; the Sabaeans were quite happy, it appears, to give up their primitive sun and moon worship in favour of the faith of their new masters.’

  ‘I don’t quite see what all this has to do with Constantinople,’ put in Justinian.

  John rolled his eyes impatiently. ‘Give me strength. Aethiopia is Christian, thus entitled to the protection and support of the Christian Roman emperor. So Aethiopian control of Arabia Felix effectively means Roman control of the straits.’

  ‘Forgive my obtuseness,’ objected Valerian, clearly nettled by the other’s abrasive manner. ‘The Aethiopians are Coptic Christians, I believe — Monophysites, in other words. Which makes them heretics. So why should Rome support them? Also, you mentioned “Roman control of the straits”. Just why is that so important?’

  ‘Within the empire, Monophysites may be heretics; but outside it — well, we can’t afford to be too nice in our discriminations.’ John spoke slowly, in the tones of a schoolmaster explaining a point to a not-very-bright pupil. ‘Not if we hope to extend Rome’s influence, and build alliances beyond her frontiers. As for the importance of Roman control of the straits — I’d have thought that was blindingly obvious. But as that doesn’t appear to be the case, I suppose I must endeavour to — ’

  ‘Uncle,’ interrupted Justinian, with uncharacteristic heat, ‘Do we have to put up with this fellow’s rudeness? I wouldn’t have thought a little basic courtesy was too much to expect.’

  Justin shifted in his chair and smiled uncomfortably. ‘It’s just his manner, nephew, nothing personal; he even speaks to me like that. Try to overlook his bluntness, if you can. I tolerate him because his advice is invariably excellent, and given without fear or favour.’ He turned to the other. ‘John,’ he went on, in conciliatory tones, ‘try to remember that Flavius Justinianus is a favoured member of my household, and that Valerianus Comes is a serving Roman officer with a distinguished record. A little tact wouldn’t come amiss.’

  ‘I’ll try to remember that, Serenity,’ responded John, inclining his head in mock humility. ‘To continue, gentlemen,’ he went on in tones of exaggerated politeness, ‘Roman control of the straits is important to us for two reasons. Strategically, a Roman foothold in Arabia could enable us to counter Persian influence there, while a friendly Aethiopia could in time perhaps become what used to be called a “client kingdom”, paving the way for imperial expansion in eastern Africa. Rome may have lost her Western provinces, but who’s to say she can’t extend her power to the south and east — the realms of Prester John and Alexander? Just a thought.

  ‘Commercially, the straits are also of enormous significance, commanding as they do the sea-routes both for spices from the Indies and silk from Serica.* Spices — essential for preserving autumn-killed meat throughout the winter. Silk, though not an article of general consumption, is of considerable importance in Roman society as a prestige possession — a badge of rank, a reward for merit. We mustn’t forget that silk and spices are important not just to Rome, but to Rome’s Eternal Enemy, Persia. Technically, we may be at peace just now. But there exists between the two powers a state of what I think we can fairly describe as “cold war” — especially on the trading front. As Persia commands the land routes, it can, at will, block supplies of silk and spices from reaching the Roman Empire. Which is why maintaining Roman control of the sea-routes is vital.’

  ‘And that control has now been threatened,’ put in Justin. ‘This Dhu-Nuwas that John mentioned is a prince of the Himyarites — a Jewish community in southern Arabia. Like the many other Jewish groups throughout the peninsula, it enjoys special Persian protection. In this “cold war” that John speaks of, a Jewish bloc in Arabia is useful to Persia, because it will naturally oppose the formation of any Christian — i.e. Roman-backed, regime. Hence Dhu-Nuwas’ invasion of Arabia Felix, and expulsion of its Aethiopian garrison.’ He turned to John. ‘I think that’s more or less the picture?’

  The latter nodding his agreement, the emperor continued, ‘I’ve had a direct appeal, via Timothy the Patriarch of Alexandria, from Ella Atsbeha, the king of Aethiopia — or Negus of Axum, as he styles himself — for help in restoring the status quo ante.’ The briefing having now shifted from the sphere of high politics to a straightforward military one, Justin sounded briskly confident. ‘What I propose is this: that a Roman army be sent to Aethiopia, there to join forces with the Negus’ troops in a great expedition to recover Arabia Felix.’ The emperor turned to Justinian and smiled. ‘The post of Magister Militum per Orientem — Commander of the Army of the East — can become vacant, if you wish to fill it.* How does the idea of taking over, with a view to spearheading the Roman side of the expedition, appeal to you? Your friend Valerianus here, could be your second-in-command.’

  Striving to conceal his alarm, Valerian tried to read his friend’s reaction: suprise, then gratification chased each other across Justinian’s features. Valerian’s heart sank as, after a longish pause, Justinian replied in a slightly awed tone, ‘I–I’d be honoured to accept, uncle. What can I say? — except to express my humble gratitude.’

  ‘You’ve earned it, nephew,’ said Justin warmly. ‘Without your help, and that of John here, I’d never have managed to run the Roman Empire.’

  Undeniably true though Justin’s tribute to his nephew was, Valerian reflected, he felt that in accepting command of the eastern army his friend was making a profound mistake. Insofar as he possessed a gift of inspiring devoted loyalty in others, Justinian displayed undoubted leadership. But while he might be a superb administrator, he was, in Valerian’s opinion, no man of action — although clearly, from what had just transpired, he saw himself fulfilling such a role. That, Valerian was convinced, was self-deception — a state of mind usually attended by hubris. His friend’s experience of soldiering had been purely ceremonial; how would he rise to the challenge of leading an army in remote and no doubt difficult terrain, in conjunction with semi-savage tribesmen, against an enemy whose power and resources could only be guessed at? During their long friendship, Valerian recalled, there had been pointers indicating a potentially dangerous failure of nerve in moments of crisis on Justinian’s part: the incident with Nearchus from their student days, and his reaction, now three years ago, when first he learned that his uncle had been named for emperor. Well, provided not too many unforeseen complications developed, Justinian might just carry things off without mishap, Valerian supposed. And besides, he himself would be there at his friend’s side, to advise and assist.

  Or, it could all go horribly wrong — like Crassus’ disastrous Parthian adventure centuries ago. The Roman financier and politician had fancied himself in the role of general, with fatal consequences for himself and for the men he led. However, no purpose would be served, Valerian decided, in telling his friend he should never have accepted the command. That would only be to sow a seed of doubt which could erode his confidence, in circumstances which called for steadfastness of purpose above all else.

  Two days after the Roman force reached Gondar, the Negus (Negusa Nagast za-Ityopya, King of Kings of Aethiopia, to give him his full title) arrived at the city with part of his army — ten thousand lean, hawk-nosed warriors, armed with spears and swords,
and carrying rawhide shields. A formal meeting then took place between the Roman leaders and the Negus and his entourage. The Negus, Ella Atsbeha, was, thought Valerian, an impressive figure — a tall young man with aquiline features and an air of natural dignity, which alone marked him out from his retinue. His clothing, a robe not unlike an old-fashioned Roman toga (a garment now only worn by senators), was, save for a broad red stripe along the border, identical to theirs. Justinian, arrayed in the full panoply of a Roman general with muscle cuirass and bronze-studded pteruges,* greeted the king graciously, assuring him (through interpreters) that, as a Friend of Rome, he could count on the Empire’s help in restoring Arabia Felix to Aethiopian rule. His friend seemed in his element, Valerian noted approvingly: gracious, cordial, almost regal in deportment, he was clearly creating a most favourable impression on the king and his followers. Perhaps, after all, he had misjudged Justinian and all would be well. So far, his friend’s behaviour couldn’t be faulted; on the march Justinian had projected a persona of calm composure, being invariably friendly, cheerful, and considerate towards the troops, who clearly adored him — a seeming second Caesar, another Alexander. But then, Valerian reflected, he hadn’t yet been tested.

  That, however, was something that was set to change. For that very evening, news arrived that would put in jeopardy the whole expedition.

  * 521.

  ** The Red Sea.

  * In the next century, Gondar would replace Axum as the country’s capital. Ethiopia had been Christian since the 320s — nearly three centuries before St Augustine’s mission to England!

  * Famous both for bluntness and efficiency, within ten years John the Cappadocian would rise from humble clerk to praetorian prefect — in effect Justinian’s chief minister. (See Notes.)

  ** The Yemen.

  * China.

  * It was occupied at the time by Hypatius, nephew of Anastasius.

  * Part of a Roman officer’s military outfit, pteruges were leather strips protecting the thighs and upper arms. They are clearly depicted in statues and carvings of Roman emperors from Augustus to Justinian.

  EIGHT

  He [Justin] purported that the Ethiopians by purchasing [Chinese] silk

  from India and selling it among the Romans, might themselves gain. .

  while causing the Romans no longer [to] be compelled to pay over their

  money to their [Persian] enemy

  Procopius, History of the Wars of Justinian, after 552

  On the night of his arrival in Gondar, the Negus — Ella Atsbeha — gave orders for a great feast to be prepared to welcome his Roman allies. Justinian and Valerian, together with a dozen of their senior officers (tribuni and their seconds-in-command, vicarii) were ushered into a great hall, part of the governor’s palace, down the centre of which was a long, low table, flanked by cushioned stools. When all the guests were seated (Romans paired with Aethiopian commanders clad in their toga-like shambas), the Negus rose and raised a goblet of tej — fermented honey and barley — and (via an interpreter, one of which stood behind each pair of guests) proposed a toast, ‘to Rome and Aethiopia — brothers-in-arms in Christ’. When all had resumed their seats after downing the sweet, fiery liquor, appetisers were served: curries from India, and delicious savoury balls (powdered locusts bound with fat, Valerian discovered after making enquiry), washed down with more tej.

  An atmosphere of noisy cordiality soon prevailed, Valerian discovering that his hosts were surprisingly well-informed as to world affairs: relations between Rome and Persia; the German kingdoms which had taken over the lands of the old West Roman Empire; the religious divide between the Chalcedonians and the Monophysites; trade with China and the Indies. Then, to the accompaniment of agonized bellowing from outside, the speciality of the meal arrived: platefuls of raw red beef. His gorge rising, Valerian gazed in horror at the bleeding chunk of flesh before him, realizing that it had just been cut from a living animal! ‘Brundo — it’s delicious,’ the Aethiopian to Valerian’s right informed him. ‘A special treat, in honour of our Roman guests.’ With a forced smile, Valerian hacked off a sliver of the steaming meat and began manfully to chew it. Noticing that, in the next but one place, Justinian, white-faced and immobile, was staring at his plate, Valerian hissed, ‘For God’s sake try to eat it — some, at least. Otherwise, you’ll give offence.’

  Justinian turned an anguished face to his friend. ‘I can’t, Valerian,’ he whispered. ‘It’s just not possible; I’ll be sick.’

  Banishing the atmosphere of friendly jollity, a stony silence was spreading down the table as Justinian’s reluctance began to be observed. Cursing the other’s fastidium, Valerian tried to make excuses on his friend’s behalf, uttering some impromptu nonsense about uncooked meat being against Justinian’s strict religious observance. A small roast guinea-fowl was exchanged for the offending plate of brundo, and the feast continued — but in an ambience of cool and stiff politeness.

  Then all tension was overshadowed by an event of greater consequence. A travel-stained messenger suddenly burst into the chamber and, hurrying over to the Negus, whispered in his ear. The young king rose, his expression grave. ‘Roman friends, fellow Aethiopians — the news is bad. One of Dhu-Nuwas’ generals has crossed the straits and, backed by our traditional enemies the Galla, has seized our great fortress of Magdala. Our route to the coast is therefore blocked.’

  Whether resulting from his shortcoming at the feast, or apprehension regarding the news concerning Magdala, Justinian’s facade was beginning to crack, Valerian opined. Before Gondar, his friend’s mood had been positive and optimistic (sometimes verging on the manic). After leaving the city, he became silent and withdrawn, his contact with the troops now limited to necessary orders relayed through subordinates. It was as though he had awakened from a dream into a reality both alien and frightening. More and more the burden of everyday supervision of the Roman column fell on Valerian’s shoulders, to the latter’s disquiet and increasing irritation.

  Swelling by the day as more and more warriors streamed in from outlying settlements, the united force pushed on to Lake Tana — a beautiful sheet of shimmering blue pocked by surfacing hippopotami, and fringed by stands of noble trees and flower-studded meadows filled with grazing herds of antelope and buffalo. Here, the expedition turned east, following the river Abai* past a stupendous arc of falls called Tisisat, to its junction with the river Bechelo. Following the latter, the force wound upwards through high wooded hills to a bare plateau broken by cliffs and ravines, the Bechelo here running through a rocky gorge. In this stony wilderness, the only sign of life consisted of large, aggressive monkeys with dog-like snouts,* which chattered angrily at the human intruders, their ‘sentries’ flashing up top lips to reveal rows of vicious fangs. Storm clouds now rolled up from the south, and the expedition found itself pushing on through squalls of hail and icy rain. Then, as suddenly as they had darkened, the skies cleared, revealing to the cold and sodden troops an arresting prospect: rising steeply from the tableland ahead, a series of dramatic, flat-topped heights, and beyond them in the distance a monstrous, towering cylinder of naked rock, crowned by the ramparts of a mighty fortress.

  ‘Magdala,’ declared the Negus to Valerian. The pair, who had ridden out ahead of the army, had formed a close bond in the course of the march. Intelligent and well-informed, Ella Atsbeha, in addition to his native Amharic, spoke several languages: Gez, the ancient aboriginal tongue with links to Arabic, now virtually a literary language used mainly by the clergy; Arabic itself; even a little Greek. Daily conversation with Valerian had improved his fluency in the last-named, to the extent that he could now dispense with an interpreter.

  ‘Impossible!’ breathed Justinian, riding up to join the pair. ‘That place has to be impregnable. Only a lengthy siege could hope to bring about its capture.’

  ‘It can and must be taken, sir,’ rapped back Ella Atsbeha, whose relationship with Justinian, in contrast to his friendliness towards Valerian, had become
notably cool since leaving Gondar. (The cause, thought Valerian, had more to do with impatience on the Negus’ part towards Justinian’s mood of passive introspection, than over any slight he may have felt regarding the latter’s conduct at the feast.) ‘Magdala has enough reserves of food and water to last for many months. Were we to spend time investing it, Dhu-Nuwas, with Persian backing no doubt, would secure his grip on Arabia Felix. Permanently.’

  ‘I don’t suppose we could just bypass the place for the nonce,’ suggested Valerian tentatively. ‘Sort out Dhu-Nuwas first, then deal with Magdala later?’

  The Negus shook his head. ‘That would be to invite disaster. You don’t know the Galla, my friend.’ He gave a rueful smile. ‘A southern tribe of unreconstructed savages, they’re my subjects — officially. But they’ve never wholly accepted Aethiopian rule, or for that matter, Christianity. With our army absent in Arabia, the Galla, like angry locusts, would swarm out from Magdala, also from their homeland in the south, and devastate the land with fire and slaughter.’

  ‘I see,’ rejoined Valerian. ‘Then our only option is to take the place by assault.’

  ‘But even if that were to succeed,’ put in Justinian, ‘and it seems to me a very big “if”, the casualties would surely be horrendous.’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ objected Ella Atsbeha. ‘You Romans have brought engines with you — capable, you say, of breaching the most powerful defences. Below the rock on which the fortress stands is a plain called Islam-gee. If you could site your engines there. .?’ He looked enquiringly at the two Romans.

  ‘A good point, Your Majesty,’ Valerian responded. ‘I was wondering myself how best to deploy our catapults. All right, suppose we manage to batter down the gates, or knock a hole in the curtain wall; what then? From here, the rock looks unclimbable.’