(10) ANTHONY KALDELLIS –

THE NEW ROMAN EMPIRE: A HISTORY OF BYZANTIUM (2023)

 

 

My wildcard tenth place entry as best history book of 2023 is this history of the eastern Roman Empire – from founding to fall of Constantinople, with more than a millennium of history in between them.

 

By the fall of Constantinople to the Ottomans in 1453 AD– on the threshold of the Spanish discovery of the Americas and marking the start of the early modern period – the empire was effectively reduced to the city itself with some spare change left behind in the couch in the Peloponnese.

 

It had come a long way – and fallen so far – from its glorious founding as new imperial capital from the former city of Byzantium by Constantine in 330 AD, reigning as sole emperor over the whole classical Roman empire. From that point the empire was almost inevitably destined to be divided (again) into western and eastern halves, with the latter ruled from Constantinople and almost inevitably destined to outlast the former.

 

The founding of Constantinople and its rule over the eastern empire that became the sole empire once its western counterpart fell prompts consideration of what to call that empire, which is addressed from the outset of the book – and in its title.

 

It was of course, as they considered themselves to be, the continuation of the Roman Empire, but it also had important distinctions from the former classical empire – distinctions that allowed it to endure as long as it did and not merely as a “pale facsimile of classical Rome” but “a vigorous state of its own, inheritor of many of Rome’s features, and a vital node in the first truly globalized world”.

 

Western history has borrowed from Constantinople’s former title Byzantium – as indeed does the book’s subtitle and its author as self-described Byzantist – to call it the Byzantine empire, often to the detriment of the empire’s continuity with the Roman Empire. I guess Constantinopolitan Empire doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.

 

That is something which this book resists, advocating persuasively against that usage. While it is no doubt a term with an unfortunate history of usage, much like the general usage of Byzantine as a pejorative adjective, I think the title of Byzantine Empire may well be too ingrained in common usage to shake.

 

The common alternative has been to call it the Eastern Roman Empire – a usage similar to that of various Chinese dynasties to distinguish their geographical extent at different times, such as the Southern Song dynasty.

 

The book makes a persuasive case for a title as the New Roman Empire but then doesn’t really use that beyond the book’s title and introduction, instead preferring to use Romania – a usage that I don’t think will catch on for potential confusion with the modern nation of that name. Also come on – neo-Roman Empire was right there!

 

As for the book’s history of that thousand-year empire, it’s pretty much summed up by that earlier quote about it as a “vigorous state of its own” – one which endured through “innovative institutions and a bottomless strategic playbook”, the latter including what in modern parlance is called soft power and set out in one of the book’s many engaging points.

 

Another engaging point is that the book plays into my preference for thematic history, not simply chronicling what happened but asking how and why it did – above all, the question of how and why the empire “lasted so long lies at the heart of the book”.

 

That can be broken down into further questions, which the book engages. How and why did it survive when the western empire didn’t? How and why did it almost succumb to enemies after that, notably the Persians and Arabs when it came within a heartbeat of falling? How and why did it then rebound after those and other occasions of decline?

 

As to the book’s big question of how and why it lasted so long, a fundamental part of the answer is reflected in its preferred usage of Romania – that the empire transformed itself to resemble not so much subjects under imperial rule as participants in a Roman nation state.

 

A further engaging point is that the author doesn’t shrink on occasion from laying down some snide snark – such as when channelling his inner Procopius, he lets the occasional barb slip that he really doesn’t like Justinian. He quips that the Plague of Justinian was the only thing the emperor didn’t want to name after himself – ooo, sick imperial burn! Of course, in this house, Justinian is a hero – although even I have to admit he overextended the empire.

 

Less engaging for me is when he detours into the endless theological disputes in the broader history of Christianity within the empire. Yes, yes – I know the history of the empire is intimately caught up with the history of Christianity within it but my eyes mostly glazed over when the book went there.

 

Except for the dispute over icons – that kept my interest, although I suppose it helped it just involved the simply use (or prohibition from use) of images and not some mindbogglingly pedantic semantics. Also, there was the book’s insight that the iconoclasts were not as, well, iconoclastic as they were made out to be.

 

Even so, I preferred the book’s more straightforward political and military history of when the empire was kicking ass or having its ass kicked.

 

 

RATING: 4 STARS****

X-TIER (WILD TIER)

 

History repeats itself – the first time as tragedy, the second time as farce.

History does not repeat but sometimes it rhymes.

History is just one damned thing after another.

Ah yes, history – and three of my favorite quotes about it.

The first is paraphrasing an actual quote by Karl Marx – often overlooked by people, even Marxists, as someone who could be quite the capable prose stylist when not bogged down in denser prose or theory.

The second is often attributed to Mark Twain – someone who is widely acknowledged as a capable prose stylist, except that he doesn’t seem to have actually said it.

The third quip is often quoted from historian Toynbee – correctly but somewhat misleadingly because firstly, it was adapted from a preceding popular saying about life, and secondly, he was using it to criticize historians who simply sought to chronicle history rather than analyze it.

Toynbee definitely fell in the latter category – a historian whose central theme was identifying, well, the themes of history, its cycles and patterns, its plot and rhythm (or history rhyming if you will).

History has been a subject that has fascinated me since childhood, when I read it avidly – and still does as I read it now, hence my Top 10 History Books.

The subject of history in its broadest sense is perhaps straightforward enough – “the systematic study and documentation” of the human past or past events, usually demarcated from prehistory as the past or events subsequent to the invention of writing systems (or written history in other words, although it might be corroborated by other sources such as archaeology).

Beyond that, it gets a little tricky with all the permutations of the various subjects of history or even the concept of history itself – so many permutations that it could be the subject of its own top ten and certainly has been the subject of debate among historians.

“History is an academic discipline which uses a narrative to describe, examine, question, and analyze past events, and investigate their patterns of cause and effect. Historians debate which narrative best explains an event, as well as the significance of different causes and effect. Historians debate the nature of history as an end in itself, and its usefulness in giving perspective on the problems of the present.”

I’m not here to seek to resolve any of these debates, if such a thing is even possible – I’m just here to read books on history and, you know, live in it. To adapt my own quote of living in a mythic world, I live in a historic world. We all do.

That said, what I will do is clarify my tastes in history books. I definitely lean more towards Toynbee’s concept of history as themes or patterns, preferring history books that are more analysis than chronicle. All my top ten might be said to be analytical or thematic history, albeit some more than others.

I also tend to prefer my thematic history on a grand scale – the scale of comparative or global history. Not always of course, but often – it is a preference after all, characterizing at least six of my top ten books.

I also tend to have a preference for military history – put bluntly, the history of wars and empires, or indeed of war and empire in the general thematic sense. The latter characterizes two of my top ten books as general histories of war and warfare.

Following on from the history of wars and empires, it might be cliched but foremost among my subjects of preference are the Roman Empire and the Second World War (although Alexander the Great and the Cold War are close – and somewhat overlapping – runners-up for each respectively). Two of my top ten books have their subject as a focus on the Roman Empire, while another two are with respect to the Second World War.

I also can’t invoke capable prose style in my introduction without noting my preference for a good or even literary prose style in my books of history – some historians or historical writers are definitely better than others.

So here are my top ten books of history. You know the rules – this is one of my deep dive top tens, counting down from tenth to first place and looking at individual entries in some depth or detail of themselves. Tenth place is my wildcard entry for the best entry from the previous year (2023).

But wait – there’s more! The subject is prolific enough for my usual twenty special mentions per top ten and for honorable mentions beyond that.