The Historians of Late Antiquity (43 page)

The
breviaria
are quite laudatory of Julian’s early success in Gaul. Victor, writing under Constantius, praises the success of Julian in Gaul but hastens to add that this success was due to the planning and fortune of the senior emperor. He adduces the examples of Tiberius and Galerius, who had been successful generals when subordinate to superior emperors, but were not so successful when they themselves ruled (41.17–19). This curious didactic lesson seems to be good evidence for the existence of a general perception that Constantius might be jealous or sensitive about the attribution of credit for any military success of his Caesar. Eutropius preserves a more straightforward account of Julian’s success, saying that Julian had come to Gaul with a small force in the face of great devastation, and had won many outstanding victories (10.14). Festus, more succinctly, merely describes Julian as “a man of proven fortune against barbarians” when he set out for Persia (28.1). Victor and Festus have no information about Julian’s acclamation, but Eutropius’ account is clear and implies no skullduggery: “when the German armies were being removed from the defense of the Gauls, Julian was made Augustus by the consent of the soldiers” (10.15.1).

Rufinus’ brief account of Julian’s accession omits the context and simply claims that he took upon himself the power of Augustus (10.27). His Greek ecclesiastical successors provide more details of Julian’s actions in Gaul and in Paris. Socrates, for example, further demonstrates his unusually positive attitude
toward Julian (3.1.25–36). His laudatory account echoes many of the points found in Ammianus and in Julian’s own writings. He describes the generals who had been set over Julian in Gaul as lax and abandoned to luxury, but Julian as bold and energetic. By offering a bounty for killing a barbarian, Socrates claims, Julian weakened the enemy and improved his standing with the troops. Julian is credited with brilliant successes on the battlefield, and Socrates even relates an anecdote of a time when a crown happened to fall on the head of the Caesar, which was widely seen as an omen of his future rule. Socrates adds that “some” have written that Constantius had sent young Julian against the barbarians in the hope that he would perish. The historian, while stating that the idea seems implausible for several reasons, leaves it to the reader to judge. His description of the acclamation at Paris is positive and hints at no controversy: “Having had this success [at Strasbourg,] he was proclaimed emperor by the soldiers.” Only after this praise does Socrates hint at the dangers to come: “Julian became emperor in this way, but whether he ruled thereafter as a philosopher, let my audience decide.”

Sozomen’s account of Julian in Gaul is drawn directly from Socrates (5.2.20–3). The changes he introduces serve mainly to soften the positive tone: Julian no longer is brilliant, nor does Sozomen relate the omen of the crown. Sozomen, too, poses Socrates’ question about Constantius’ motive for sending Julian to Gaul, but answers it with considerably more certainty and with several more arguments explaining the improbability of Constantius’ malicious intent. Sozomen also does not connect Julian’s elevation to his military success, as Socrates did, but simply states that Julian was proclaimed emperor without Constantius’ sanction.

Theodoret is considerably less interested in secular affairs, and considerably more hostile to Julian than the other church historians. In his few comments, Theodoret describes Julian as “Caesar of Europe,” and says simply that he sought power and raised an army against Constantius (2.32.6). Orosius also claims that Julian “usurped the dignity of Augustus” without providing details (7.29.16). Julian’s success in Gaul, he suggests, drove him toward usurpation (7.29.15–16). Orosius, seeking providential meaning in history as always, explains Constantius’ death and the constant civil wars he was forced to undertake as the product of his fierce support for Arianism, which had “torn to pieces the limbs of the Church” (7.29.18).

Religious policies

Julian had privately abjured Christianity almost a decade before he came to the throne, and upon gaining sole power he sacrificed to the gods and began to work toward the reinstatement of paganism. Julian refrained from suppressing Christianity entirely, but pursued numerous strategies to marginalize the religion and to encourage participation in pagan cult. In the winter of 361 he proclaimed the freedom to worship for all in the empire, allowing exiled Christians such as Athanasius to return to their home. The emperor apparently hoped that this would increase discord among different Christian sects. He also revoked certain exemptions from service on town councils, and restored certain properties to the cities from which they had been seized. Each of these laws had the important secular aim of strengthening the councils and local government. The exemptions would have been claimed often by clergy, however, and the property would have been in some cases seized by the church, and thus each struck indirectly at the privileges that the church had managed to secure for itself in the several decades since its establishment. The most devastating such blow, at least from the perspective of the educated class who wrote histories, was the law of 17 June 362, which denied the privileges of an official teaching position to all who were not of good character (Banchich 1993; Hardy 1968). A letter of Julian explained “good character”: how could one teach Homer and the classics honestly without worshipping the gods who are integral to the works (
ep
. 42)? Even pagans like Ammianus tended to deplore this exclusion of qualified Christians from the classroom.

Julian refrained from the actual persecution of Christians on all but a few occasions, in an attempt perhaps to prevent the creation of martyrs. When pagans throughout the empire took matters into their own hands and inflicted violence against their Christian neighbors, however, it became clear that the emperor was unlikely to interfere. Very early in his reign, Julian’s old teacher George, the bishop of Alexandria, was beaten to death by a pagan mob (Barcellona 1995: 61–3; Haas 1991). Julian decried the violence and disorder, but primarily on the grounds that, although George deserved to be killed, worshippers of the gods ought not stain their hands with blood. Julian’s anti-Christian measures seem to have increased as he prepared to leave on his Persian expedition. In 363, for example, in a letter to Christians of the Mesopotamian town of Edessa, he explained sardonically that he was confiscating all of their church’s possessions, to help the Edessans comply with the
Christian belief that the poor will more easily pass into the Kingdom of Heaven than the rich (Jul.
ep
. 115; Bowersock 1978: 92).

Julian sought to revitalize paganism through imperial patronage, and as he traveled east to Constantinople and then to Antioch, he devoted himself to the restoration of abandoned shrines and temples and sought the renewal of moribund sacrifices and rituals. His most dramatic attempt of this kind was his unsuccessful attempt to rebuild the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem (Blanchetière 1980; Drijvers 1992; Levenson 1990a). Such a restoration would not only have returned to the Jews the ability to sacrifice, but would have rendered impossible the realization of Jesus’ prophecy that the temple would never be rebuilt, and thus struck a blow against the Christians. The project was a failure, however, whether through accident, sabotage, or supernatural intervention. Perhaps Julian’s most ambitious stratagem to revive paganism was his plan for an imperial pagan priesthood that would emulate many features of the Christian church. It would be hierarchically arranged and priests would be required to be pious and ascetic. This pagan church would dispense charity and provide hostels in every city (Nicholson 1994; Koch 1927/8).

The brevity of Julian’s reign has served to obscure certain aspects of his religious program. The ultimate goals he held out for his measures, and the chances that his program could succeed, remain contested issues. Thus many writers at the time and in following generations have been able to impose upon the figure of Julian their hopes and nightmares about the future course of Christianity and paganism in the empire.

Ammianus was a pagan and a staunch supporter of Julian. He was, nevertheless, quite critical of a number of aspects of Julian’s religious program. Often in Ammianus we seem to hear the voice of an older and wiser man, looking back upon a moment pregnant with possibility and trying to explain where things went wrong, and why Julian’s reign, with all of its promise, was in the end such a failure.

Ammianus claims that Julian received courage in his struggle against Constantius by the help of divinatory magic, which informed him that Constantius would soon die (21.1). Ammianus explains the science of divination in a defensive digression in which he is careful to refute charges that Julian was engaged in something improper or illegal, a tone which will recur in Ammianus’ later discussion of Julian’s activities.

Book 22 of Ammianus is largely devoted to the innovations Julian introduced at Constantinople. After a discussion of reforms of the court and of the military, Ammianus passes to Julian’s pagan program, which he summarizes in a three-part phrase: “the temples should be opened, sacrifices be offered on their altars, and the worship of the gods be restored” (22.5.2). Ammianus attributes a somewhat devious motive to the proclamation of religious freedom. The emperor, he says, summoned Christian bishops to the palace and politely told them to allow each man to propound his belief without harm. This was done, claims the historian, with the knowledge that toleration would intensify their divisions and he would no longer have to face their united front, for “no beasts are as savage to men as most Christians are to each other” (22.5.4).

Ammianus carefully absolves Julian of the charges of persecution which are prevalent in the church historians, except for a stern condemnation of Julian’s school law which forbade Christians to teach rhetoric. This law he denounces twice, as “inappropriate” and “deserving to be covered in eternal silence” (25.4, 22.10). Ammianus also recognizes that it was improper for Julian to ask the religion of various litigants in court cases before him, but claims that this nevertheless had no impact upon his ruling, and Julian could “never be accused of having deviated from the straight path of justice because of religion or anything else” (22.10).

Ammianus’ account of the murder of the bishop George in Alexandria differs markedly from the versions in the Christian sources (22.11; Matthews 1989: 442–4). George is described as an informer to Constantius, and Ammianus claims that he suggested to the emperor that all of the buildings “erected by Alexander at great public expense” in Alexandria ought to be taxed. Although this presumably refers to temples, and thus was an anti-pagan measure, Ammianus has framed it as a question of unpopular fiscal policy. After the mob killed George and those suspected of being in league with him, Ammianus says that his confederates might have been saved by other Christians, had not the whole population universally hated George. Thus he once again frames the event as more than a simple conflict between Christians and pagans. Ammianus concludes by claiming that Julian was outraged and would have sought the execution of those responsible, but his advisors restrained him.

The necessity of sacrifice to the gods was an essential element of Julian’s religion (Smith 1995: 198), but Ammianus seems to find Julian’s excesses in this regard distasteful. The sacrifices were too
expensive, Ammianus says, and they led to the unpleasant scene of soldiers, drunk and gorged on sacrificial meat, causing trouble throughout the city (22.12.6). In his obituary notice of Julian the historian repeats the criticism: the emperor sacrificed innumerable victims without regard to expense, and it was believed that there would have been a cattle shortage had he been victorious over the Persians (25.4.17). Julian’s own dignity was also at risk, in Ammianus’ view, for he was “justly” criticized for taking such obvious delight in carrying sacred objects himself, and he received the nickname “butcher” rather than priest because of his love of sacrifice (22.14.3). The emperor, concludes Ammianus, was “superstitious rather than truly religious” (25.4.17).

Julian’s attempts to reestablish cult and temple sites receive prominent notice in Ammianus. He mentions, for example, Julian’s detour on the way to Antioch to visit the shrine of the Great Mother at Pessinus, where he sacrificed and prayed (22.9.5–8). Julian had previously undergone initiation into the cult of the Mother, and had written a hymn to her (Smith 1995: 137–8, 171–6). The emperor also sought to reopen the Castalian fountain, an oracular site associated with the ancient temple of Apollo at Daphne, a suburb of Antioch. Ammianus says that Hadrian had closed the fountain, which had prophesied his rise to imperial power, in order to prevent others from receiving a similar message. He adds that Julian found it necessary to remove some bodies buried around the spring and to purify the area in the ancient manner pioneered by the Athenians at Delphi (22.12.8). This bland version of events must surely have been designed by Ammianus to avoid any mention of Christianity. John Chrysostom is the first of many Christian sources to tell us, in his speech
On Saint Babylas against Julian
, that the body buried near the spring was the remains of Saint Babylas. Babylas had been transferred there by Julian’s brother Gallus, and the martyr’s presence was credited with preventing the “demon” in the spring from prophesying (Lieu 1986: 44–86; Matthews 1989: 439–40; Barnes 1998: 85). Shortly after the removal of the body, the temple of Apollo was destroyed by fire. Ammianus reports that Julian launched a major investigation since he suspected Christians were to blame, but Ammianus himself suggests that an accident caused by a philosopher, Asclepiades, may have been the cause. While he disassociates himself from the anti-Christian theory of Julian, he also ignores the Christian theory which held that God destroyed the temple as revenge for the transfer of the relics.

The most audacious of Julian’s temple restorations was his plan to rebuild the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem. Ammianus reports his motive as “to extend the memory of his reign by the greatness of his public works” (23.1.2). While it has been argued that this is the most accurate description of Julian’s intentions (Drijvers 1992), most contemporary sources understood the reconstruction as an attempt to discredit Christianity. Once again, it seems, Ammianus has underplayed the anti-Christian elements of Julian’s program. The project had to be halted due to the frequent appearance of fireballs which burned several workmen to death and made the site unapproachable. Ammianus gives no explanation for this bizarre phenomenon, although Christian sources attribute it to divine anger.