A History Of Christianity Part 4

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7. The Middle East after the Abbasid conquest Now an industry of retranslation began, this time into Arabic: the structured a.n.a.lysis and science of Aristotle, the dialogues of Plato, the medical texts of Galen and the followers of Hippocrates, the geography and cosmology of Ptolemy were only the star items on the library shelves. Most famous of these translators was the ninth-century Christian Court physician Hunayn ibn 'Ishaq, director of the caliphate's library and nicknamed 'prince of translators'. It was these texts, translated yet again into Latin, which were the source of the reimport of swathes of lost Cla.s.sical knowledge into Latin Europe in later centuries. Among so much else turned into Arabic, the charming tale of Barlaam and Josaphat, which had started life as the story of the Buddha, pa.s.sed westwards through this factory of translation (see pp. 231-2).23 The scale of this feverish acquisition of knowledge, the huge size of Islamic libraries compared with collections in the Christian West and the general sophistication of Abbasid administration were such that, from the eighth century, the ma.s.s of texts encouraged a new copying technology imported from China along the trade routes which the Eastern Christians dominated: instead of papyrus or expensive parchment, cloth rags were transformed into paper, durable and comparatively easy to make and cheap as a writing material to cope with the demand. The scale of this feverish acquisition of knowledge, the huge size of Islamic libraries compared with collections in the Christian West and the general sophistication of Abbasid administration were such that, from the eighth century, the ma.s.s of texts encouraged a new copying technology imported from China along the trade routes which the Eastern Christians dominated: instead of papyrus or expensive parchment, cloth rags were transformed into paper, durable and comparatively easy to make and cheap as a writing material to cope with the demand.24 The late eighth and early ninth centuries were promising times for the Church of the East, aided by the fact that through forty years from the 780s its patriarch, Timothy I, was an outstanding diplomat in his dealings with caliphs who continued to be erratic in their att.i.tude to the Church. It has been suggested that in his time around a quarter of all the world's Christians saw Timothy as their spiritual leader - probably as many as looked to the then pope in the decaying city of Rome, far away in the West.25 The Patriarch's Church increasingly looked east beyond the Abbasid borders. The vigour of Church life combined with the increasing awareness of the Dyophysite bishops that they had less and less room for manoeuvre within the caliphate: conversions from Islam were forbidden and other potential converts who were not People of the Book were diminishing in numbers, so the Church would have to look elsewhere to spread its message. Patriarch Timothy is known to have consecrated a bishop for Tibet, at a time when its Buddhist ident.i.ty was still in flux, and he could look much further east than that, to the Christian Church which had flourished there for more than a century. The Patriarch's Church increasingly looked east beyond the Abbasid borders. The vigour of Church life combined with the increasing awareness of the Dyophysite bishops that they had less and less room for manoeuvre within the caliphate: conversions from Islam were forbidden and other potential converts who were not People of the Book were diminishing in numbers, so the Church would have to look elsewhere to spread its message. Patriarch Timothy is known to have consecrated a bishop for Tibet, at a time when its Buddhist ident.i.ty was still in flux, and he could look much further east than that, to the Christian Church which had flourished there for more than a century.26 THE CHURCH IN CHINA.

The Chinese Empire had been ruled since 618 by the Tang dynasty, which in the years of its power and prosperity was ready to give a place to any religion which did not seem to threaten its security, providing Bishop Alopen with the opportunity for success on his mission of 635 (see pp. 252-3). Christianity's fortunes in China thereafter were mixed, depending on the whims or foreign policies of successive emperors, but in the mid-eighth century, thanks to the patronage of one general victorious in civil wars, Christians found themselves over several decades in a position of advantage in China which would not be repeated for some centuries. It was from this hopeful time that there survives one of the most remarkable and beautiful monuments of the Church of the East: a black limestone stele standing nearly ten feet tall, which caused justifiable excitement among the Jesuits of a later Christian mission when, in the early 1620s, they learned of its rediscovery (on a site now unknown, but very possibly that of the identifiable Ta Qin monastery in Zhouzhi (see Plate 7). Dated 781, surmounted by dragons and a cross and bearing inscriptions in Chinese and Estrangela, it is a silkily expressed commemoration of imperial favour shown towards the Christians since 635, culminating in their present protector, General Guo Ziyi. Besides its detailed if inevitably politically selective account of that history, it boldly recites a statement of Christian faith in Chinese, commendations of the faith, and poetry in praise of the triune G.o.d and of Christ 'divided in nature', with allusions to imperial literature which stake a bold claim for Christianity as the best expression of the universe's underlying principle, the Tao. With the stele's proud enunciation of various ecclesiastical dignitaries alongside emperors and imperial officials, there could be no better symbol of the integration of the Dyophysite Christian community into imperial life. The first and last visual impression that it leaves in its present setting in Xi'an's 'Forest of Stelae' is just how alike are all the other monuments around it.27 There are many more traces of the Church of the East's real attempt to explain the Christian message in terms which would make sense to people in this alien culture. From their first arrival in China, Christians seemed to have realized that it would be a good strategy to use language familiar to Chinese from Taoism, as the stele from 781 now at Xi'an witnessed. Taoism, after all, had a vision of the original goodness of human nature which was congenial to Dyophysites emphasizing the whole humanity of Christ's separate human nature alongside his divinity. Yet Dyophysite Christians were also ready to model themselves on another faith which the Chinese recognized as having come from beyond their borders, but which was by now well established and widely respected: Buddhism. So Alopen and his successors presented their faith in the form of sutras, discourses in Buddhist style, and they had no inhibitions in presenting Buddhism as a form of truth, albeit one which needed extending. So Alopen, drawing on the specialized t.i.tles of honour of the Buddhists, had written in his Jesus Messiah Sutra Jesus Messiah Sutra: All the buddhas as well as kinnaras and the superintending-devas and arhans can see the Lord of Heaven. No human being, however, has ever seen the Lord of Heaven . . . All the buddhas flow and flux by virtue of this very wind, while in this world, there is no place where the wind does not reach.

Here, there seems to be a real attempt to suggest that the teachings of Buddhism are in a literal sense inspired by the Holy Spirit. Elsewhere in his Discourse on the oneness of the Ruler of the Universe Discourse on the oneness of the Ruler of the Universe, Alopen observed that, thanks to the Devil, '[i]t has become impossible for a human being to understand the truth and attain "liberation from sorrow" ' - the latter phrase simply being a Chinese Buddhist term which in turn translated the Sanskrit for liberation, one of many such familiar terms which the missionaries deployed to arouse recognition in their audiences. And in his Lord of the Universe's discourse on almsgiving Lord of the Universe's discourse on almsgiving, Alopen could warm to the Lord of the Universe's chosen theme so much that he raised the real possibility of salvation beyond those who recited the creeds of Christianity: Therefore, you who have already embraced the faith, OR you who do all kinds of meritorious deeds, OR who will walk in his way with an honest heart, shall all enter heaven and remain in that abode of happiness for ever and ever.28 All this suggests a faith which, to a degree highly unusual in Christian history, allowed itself to listen to other great interpretations of the divine. Perhaps this was inevitable. Christianity's previous encounter with ancient, sophisticated wisdom had been with Plato and Aristotle; and that encounter had transformed it in the second century CE. Now, for the first time, it was meeting a variety of highly developed religious systems, in a situation where it had no power of coercion. Moreover, the Church of the East pushed forward its frontiers through Syrian merchants, who were renowned throughout Asia for their bargaining skills. Can it be any surprise that the result was a form of Christianity which delighted in theological give and take?

The problem for the Dyophysites of China was that integration into Chinese society also meant dependence on power within it. As so often in the history of the Church of the East, the years of good fortune were comparatively brief. During the mid-ninth century the Emperor Wuzong turned against all religions which he regarded as foreign and the Church suffered accordingly. When the Tang dynasty finally collapsed in 907, the western trade routes which remained the lifeline of the Church were closed and the possibility of renewal through missions for the time being came to an end. But only for the time being. Three centuries later the accidents of history nevertheless offered a second chance for the Church of the East in China, because of its persisting ancient presence in Central Asia, and maybe in China too. Once more the Church came close to achieving what Islam was able to make permanent: winning the allegiance of successful military dynasties. The near-miss took place among the Mongols: the last in a centuries-long sequence of Central Asian nomadic peoples whose migrations shaped the history of both Asia and Europe, and, with it, the future of the Christian religion.

THE MONGOLS: NEW HOPE AND CATASTROPHE.

The Mongols' rise among the various peoples of the steppes was comparatively sudden at the end of the twelfth century. They had their own religious system, which described the way in which sky and earth combined in cosmic consciousness, as do male and female; they also believed that souls animated both people and animals, and survived after death. Given their nomadic lifestyle close to one of the world's greatest trade routes, they had nevertheless long been familiar with and genially interested in a wide spectrum of other people's religious beliefs, and they were inclined to give an ear to any religious ideas which took their fancy - Chinese Taoism and Confucianism, Islam, Buddhism and Dyophysite Christianity were the princ.i.p.al wares on offer.29 When in 1007 Christianity gained its first success among the Mongols, it was thanks to the long-dead Syrian St Sergius - a tribute to how this hugely popular military saint had impressed himself on imaginations far away from the site of his Roman martyrdom seven centuries before (see pp. 237-8). Sergius had power, and the Mongols became increasingly interested in power. Perhaps also these warriors who relied for their success on their close bonding found Sergius's intimate relationship with his soldier-companion Bacchus a good model for their own warfare. When in 1007 Christianity gained its first success among the Mongols, it was thanks to the long-dead Syrian St Sergius - a tribute to how this hugely popular military saint had impressed himself on imaginations far away from the site of his Roman martyrdom seven centuries before (see pp. 237-8). Sergius had power, and the Mongols became increasingly interested in power. Perhaps also these warriors who relied for their success on their close bonding found Sergius's intimate relationship with his soldier-companion Bacchus a good model for their own warfare.

It was indeed to one of the most powerful rulers among the Mongols that Sergius appeared in a vision. In or around 1007, the Mongol Khan of the Keraits, adrift in a snowstorm, became convinced that he would die lost and alone, but the saint promised deliverance in return for conversion, and deliverance from the blizzard duly arrived. The Dyophysite clergy who then received the large numbers of Keraits trooping into baptism in the wake of their hugely relieved khan were, with characteristic flexibility, creative in their tolerance of existing Mongol religious beliefs. They were happy to preside over the solemn corporate drinking of mares' milk blessed on their altar by the Khan himself. Amid the immensity of the Central and East Asian steppes, with few clergy of any persuasion to badger their beliefs into tidiness, Mongols preserved a comfortable mixture of Christianity and tradition. It is clear from archaeological finds that they enjoyed wearing Christian crosses, though they might enliven these with such symbols as the Indian swastika which Buddhists had brought them. Some of their rulers took Christian names; the greatest Mongol ruler of them all, Temujin, who in 1206 was proclaimed 'Genghis Khan' ('Ruler of the Ocean'), had been the va.s.sal of a Christian Kerait khan and married his overlord's Christian niece.30 It was through Temujin's leadership that, in the s.p.a.ce of a few decades, the Mongols became a world power to terrify people from the Mediterranean to the China Sea. His successors were convinced that they had been destined for world supremacy, and for a while it looked as if they were right. It was through Temujin's leadership that, in the s.p.a.ce of a few decades, the Mongols became a world power to terrify people from the Mediterranean to the China Sea. His successors were convinced that they had been destined for world supremacy, and for a while it looked as if they were right.31 This was a moment when the immense conquests of Genghis and his successors might have promoted an official Dyophysite Christianity throughout Asia from the Black Sea to the China Sea. During the thirteenth century, the Turkic people in Inner Mongolia known as the ongguds mostly became Christian, including their royal family, and they remained so for more than a century. As a result of Genghis's carefully planned set of alliances with Christian Kerait Mongol princesses, a series of Great Khans had Christian mothers, including Kublai Khan, who in the years up to 1279 fought his way to become the first Yuan emperor of China. Under Kublai Khan, Dyophysite Christians returned to the centre of power in China. After nearly three centuries in which their presence had been scarcely perceptible, they revealed themselves from generations of outward profession of other Chinese religions which had official favour. Yet the old pattern repeated itself. The Yuan rulers of China quickly conformed themselves to the rich and ancient culture which they had seized and, worse still, successive Yuan monarchs showed themselves steadily more incompetent to rule. Their overthrow by the fiercely xenophobic native Ming dynasty in 1368 was a bad blow to Christianity in the empire. It still had yet to interest more than a minority of Chinese. It is perhaps appropriate that the only apparent modern linguistic survival of the Syriac missions in the Far East is the word for 'tomb', qavra qavra, used by the Turco-Mongol people known as the Uyghur, in the Xinjiang Autonomous Region of China.32 So in neither of its great missionary ventures did the Church of the East achieve enough indigenous support to make an open stand against whatever the emperor decreed. By the time that a new wave of Western Latin Christians arrived from Europe in the sixteenth century, Christian faith and practice had once more virtually disappeared - at least in public. What has become evident in recent years in the countryside beyond the former imperial capital Xi'an, around that extraordinary survival the Ta Qin monastery paG.o.da, is the likelihood that a consciousness of the Christian tradition and even a Christianity disguised as Taoism did persist. After the Catholic missions of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, this small area became and remains a stronghold of rural Chinese Catholicism, Catholic parish churches now peppering the skyline as they might do in southern Europe. Maybe this was not the only place in China which was home to such a survival. Maybe secret Christians remained to welcome the first Western missionaries, as they did in later centuries after later persecutions, and there are many remarkable possibilities still to be investigated in the history of Chinese Christianity.33 The Mongols' conquests turned west as well. They finally shattered the power of the already declining Abbasid dynasty; their leader in this was Il-Khan ('Subordinate Khan') Hulagu, whose princ.i.p.al wife belonged to the Church of the East. That was a happy circ.u.mstance for the Christians of Baghdad, who were the only community whom the Mongols spared ma.s.sacre when the city fell in 1258; indeed the Mongols gave the Catholicos one of the caliphs' palaces in which to establish his headquarters and cathedral complex.34 Now the Il-Khan established a new Mongol dynasty in Iran. It was not just the Dyophysites who had real expectations of a new Christian empire based on the dubious authority of these spectacularly brutal warriors. Hope flared up among Western Latin Christians, whose Middle Eastern Crusades against Muslim powers were looking increasingly hopeless (see pp. 384-6). The results were some epic Christian ventures into unknown territories to investigate the new diplomatic possibilities, led by a formidable set of missionaries from an innovative Latin organization, the Order of Franciscan Friars (see pp. 402-4). Now the Il-Khan established a new Mongol dynasty in Iran. It was not just the Dyophysites who had real expectations of a new Christian empire based on the dubious authority of these spectacularly brutal warriors. Hope flared up among Western Latin Christians, whose Middle Eastern Crusades against Muslim powers were looking increasingly hopeless (see pp. 384-6). The results were some epic Christian ventures into unknown territories to investigate the new diplomatic possibilities, led by a formidable set of missionaries from an innovative Latin organization, the Order of Franciscan Friars (see pp. 402-4).35 In the early 1250s, the great Crusader-king of France, Louis IX, was inspired to send William of Rubruck, a sharp-eyed Franciscan, as an emissary to the Great Khan Mongke in Central Asia. William recorded his travels in an absorbingly interesting journal of one of the most remarkable diplomatic exploits in this unprecedented episode of Western exploration.36 Just as enterprising and exotic visitors in the other direction, in 1285 and 1287-8, were successive envoys of the Il-Khan Arghun: first a Chinese Christian official of Kublai Khan and then a Dyophysite monk of Mongol descent called Rabban Sauma, who successively travelled to Constantinople, to the pope in Rome and then westwards all the way to the kings of England and France. In turn, Sauma's visit inspired fresh Franciscan efforts to penetrate Central Asia in the name of Chalcedonian Christianity. One result was the erection in the 1290s of a Gothic-style cathedral of the Western Latin rite in the improbable setting of Inner Mongolia, where its foundations have been excavated at the site of the city of Olon Sume. The Franciscan friar responsible travelled on to China, where he spent most of his time pestering Dyophysite Christians to become Chalcedonians. Just as enterprising and exotic visitors in the other direction, in 1285 and 1287-8, were successive envoys of the Il-Khan Arghun: first a Chinese Christian official of Kublai Khan and then a Dyophysite monk of Mongol descent called Rabban Sauma, who successively travelled to Constantinople, to the pope in Rome and then westwards all the way to the kings of England and France. In turn, Sauma's visit inspired fresh Franciscan efforts to penetrate Central Asia in the name of Chalcedonian Christianity. One result was the erection in the 1290s of a Gothic-style cathedral of the Western Latin rite in the improbable setting of Inner Mongolia, where its foundations have been excavated at the site of the city of Olon Sume. The Franciscan friar responsible travelled on to China, where he spent most of his time pestering Dyophysite Christians to become Chalcedonians.37 By that time, optimism on either side was running out. By that time, optimism on either side was running out.

It was becoming clear that the Mongols were not going to fulfil the hopes which Christian strategists placed in them - that might have been obvious from the beginning, if their ghastly toll of millions of people and even animals ma.s.sacred on an industrial scale had been taken into account. The Mongols were unimpressed by their increasing acquaintance with Christian rivalries, which had not previously been apparent in Mongol homelands in Dyophysite Central Asia, and, as always, they had their own priorities. William of Rubruck commented with rueful humour after his meeting with the Great Khan Mongke on the chances of converting the great man: 'If I had possessed the power to work miracles, as Moses did, he might perhaps have humbled himself.'38 Already a train of events in the 1250s had begun the downfall of Christianity in Central Asia, signalling the end of any possibility of a tame Christian Mongol empire. First was the conversion to Islam of Berke, one of the royal family of the Mongol grouping known as the Kipchak Khanate or Golden Horde, in what is now southern Russia (see pp. 510-11). In 1256 Berke murdered his Christian nephew in order to take power as Kipchak Khan, and although the Mongol Il-Khans of Iran were still apparently riding high on military conquest, Berke allied with the enemies of the Il-Khans, the Islamic rulers (Mamluks) of Egypt. It was a dangerous split in Mongol solidarity, which was fatally prolonged by an accident: the death of the Great Khan Mongke far away in Mongolia. Mongol leaders returned to their heartland to choose his successor, leaving their forces in a weakened state, and the Mamluks were able to inflict a crushing defeat at 'Ayn Jalut in the Holy Land in 1260. Already a train of events in the 1250s had begun the downfall of Christianity in Central Asia, signalling the end of any possibility of a tame Christian Mongol empire. First was the conversion to Islam of Berke, one of the royal family of the Mongol grouping known as the Kipchak Khanate or Golden Horde, in what is now southern Russia (see pp. 510-11). In 1256 Berke murdered his Christian nephew in order to take power as Kipchak Khan, and although the Mongol Il-Khans of Iran were still apparently riding high on military conquest, Berke allied with the enemies of the Il-Khans, the Islamic rulers (Mamluks) of Egypt. It was a dangerous split in Mongol solidarity, which was fatally prolonged by an accident: the death of the Great Khan Mongke far away in Mongolia. Mongol leaders returned to their heartland to choose his successor, leaving their forces in a weakened state, and the Mamluks were able to inflict a crushing defeat at 'Ayn Jalut in the Holy Land in 1260.39 This was the first check on Mongol power, and the beginning of steady decline for the Il-Khans of Iran, who themselves turned away from their alliance with Christianity when they realized that Christian Europe had more important priorities than giving them support, and that Christian Europe was in any case less impressive in military terms than it liked to think. The future lay with those Mongol rulers increasingly committed to Islam. The fortunes of the Church of the East plummeted still further with the rise to power from the mid-fourteenth century of the Mongol warlord Timur or Tamerlane, intent on restoring the glory of Mongol power from its fractured state. Timur's conquests extended from the Black Sea to Afghanistan and the Persian Gulf. His systematic cruelty and will to destruction made the Mongol khans' ma.s.sacres in previous centuries look half-hearted. His mountainous piles of skulls are no picturesque myth. While Timur had no compunction in attacking other Muslim rulers, including eliminating the Il-Khans, Muslims generally fared better in his conquests, and it was Christianity in vast swathes of its former eastern strongholds which chiefly suffered.40 8. Asia in 1260 [image]

Timur's orgies of destruction hit Christian populations in Central Asia which had already been terribly reduced by the advance of the plague which western Europe would come to know in 1348-9 as the Black Death. From now on, outside the comparative safety of India, the story of the Church of the East recedes to the efforts by disparate enclaves to cling on to existence in the face of Islamic dominance, usually in remote upland areas out of sight of the authorities. Even when Timur found no successors in his cruelty and the Mongol threat receded, the growing power of the Ottoman Turks (see p. 483) continued the pressure on non-Muslims. In an increasingly hostile Islamic world, embittered at the memory of the alien outrage of the Western Crusades, the ancient privileged place of Christians at the Courts of monarchs disappeared.

The Miaphysite Church of Armenia suffered like the Dyophysites from the calamities of the fourteenth century. The last independent Armenian kingdom, in Cilicia in south-west Turkey, fell to Mamluk forces in 1375 and more than two centuries of struggle for Christian survival followed. The Armenians had centuries of experience in being buffeted by neighbouring great powers and they were long used to migrating away from disaster. These desperate years sent more of them travelling through eastern Europe as far away as Poland, let alone whatever refuge they could find in Asia - but as with the Jews in diaspora, their sufferings sharpened their skills in commerce and negotiation, skills which they were ready to apply to their religious troubles. From the fourteenth century, at odds theologically with both their Byzantine neighbours and the Church of the East, they showed an enterprising interest in alliance with the Church of Rome, despite the problems caused by memories of Chalcedon, and this produced some lasting results, despite the intense divisions which it also created among Armenian Christians.

Pope John XXII, an energetic though not uncontroversial pontiff (reigned 1316-34), showed particular interest in the plight of the Armenians and the prospect of bringing them into the Catholic fold. He sustained the missions of friars (both Franciscans and Dominicans) into Central Asia which had begun in the thirteenth century. Some of the warmest contacts which the friars made were with migrant Armenian communities in Iran and on the steppes; the earliest translations of recent Latin theologians like the Dominican Thomas Aquinas (see pp. 412-15) into any other language were into Armenian. One group of Armenian monks in Asia actually remodelled their monastic life on Dominican lines and accepted Roman obedience, taking a Latin name which also proclaimed their pride in their Armenian heritage as the Fratres Unitores of the congregation of St Gregory the Illuminator (see pp. 186-7). Similar Church unions took place in eastern Europe in the fifteenth century, in which Armenian congregations kept their liturgy and distinctive devotional practices, while acknowledging papal primacy as 'Uniates'. These unions provided the model for later similar arrangements which Rome made with many other groups in the Counter-Reformation (see pp. 533-5). Not everyone was delighted by these moves to unity on Rome's terms: the Armenian hierarchy clinging on in the Armenian heartland furiously opposed union with the papacy and the word 'Uniate' has often carried an abusive flavour. A Miaphysite Catholicate continued in very difficult circ.u.mstances to sustain the independent life of the Church from the cathedral in the former Armenian capital city of Ejmiacin or Vaarsapat.41 In the same period, the Dyophysite Church of the East developed its own strategies for survival. In a move of pragmatic desperation, it diverged from the universal tradition of Eastern Christianity and increasingly abandoned artistic representations of sacred subjects, especially in paintings or statues; they were likely to attract vandalism from Muslims. The Dyophysites had in any case always rejected crucifixes, which suggested to them a confusion of the natures of Jesus making G.o.d suffer on the Cross; so their crosses were bare to symbolize the resurrected Christ (ironically, the Miaphysite Armenians favoured the same bare cross, for their own opposite theological reasons). Friar William of Rubruck had been scandalized in the 1250s when a Dyophysite Christian in Central Asia saw a silver crucifix 'in the French style' and wrenched the figure of Christ off it.42 When Protestant missionaries arrived in the Ottoman Empire in the nineteenth century, they were surprised and delighted by the Nestorians' lack of images and declared the Church of the East 'the Protestants of Asia'. By then the Dyophysites were only too pleased to cooperate with the blithe misapprehensions of new potential allies, for the medieval and early modern periods had proved by no means to be the nadir of the Church's fortunes. They were experiencing fresh disasters which, in the last century and a half, have afflicted both the Church of the East and the Church of Armenia with some of the worst stories of martyrdom in Christian history (see pp. 854-5 and 923-4). When Protestant missionaries arrived in the Ottoman Empire in the nineteenth century, they were surprised and delighted by the Nestorians' lack of images and declared the Church of the East 'the Protestants of Asia'. By then the Dyophysites were only too pleased to cooperate with the blithe misapprehensions of new potential allies, for the medieval and early modern periods had proved by no means to be the nadir of the Church's fortunes. They were experiencing fresh disasters which, in the last century and a half, have afflicted both the Church of the East and the Church of Armenia with some of the worst stories of martyrdom in Christian history (see pp. 854-5 and 923-4).43 ISLAM AND THE AFRICAN CHURCHES.

The story of Christianity in Africa into the early modern period is likewise one of defensiveness and decline nearly everywhere, leading inexorably to its complete extinction along the North African coast and in Nubia. The North African Church, the first stronghold of Latin Christianity, the home of Tertullian, Cyprian and Augustine of Hippo, should be given credit for surviving the Arab conquest of the 690s for some five centuries in certain areas, but it never recovered its unity after the bitterness of fourth- and fifth-century divisions between the Donatists and the Catholic elite which was in communion with the wider Mediterranean Church (see pp. 303-5). Eventually in the twelfth century the rigidly intolerant Almohad dynasty insisted on ma.s.s conversion of both Jews and Christians. It is probably significant that the Church seems to have remained at least formally Latin-speaking: gravestones have been discovered south of Tripoli which as late as the eleventh century do their best to use Latin, though 'vixit' ('lived') has become 'bixit', and 'vitam' ('life') 'bitam'.44 This use of speech which represented a vanished governing cla.s.s rather than the Berber language contrasts with the Copts' maintenance of their vernacular in Egypt, but also with the fact that the Copts were sufficiently numerous and part of mainstream Egyptian society that in the end they adopted Arabic as their devotional and liturgical language as well as for everyday conversation. This use of speech which represented a vanished governing cla.s.s rather than the Berber language contrasts with the Copts' maintenance of their vernacular in Egypt, but also with the fact that the Copts were sufficiently numerous and part of mainstream Egyptian society that in the end they adopted Arabic as their devotional and liturgical language as well as for everyday conversation.

In similar circ.u.mstances to the Church of the East, the Coptic patriarchs were made to live in the newly founded Arab capitals in Egypt: first at Fustat and then nearby Cairo, after the Fatimid dynasty of caliphs created it in the late tenth century. The Miaphysite faith of the Copts meant that their Muslim overlords did not identify them with the Byzantine Empire and generally treated them with tolerance. Wholly exceptional was an episode of persecution under Caliph al-Hakim from 1004 to 1013, which included the destruction of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem - one of the sparks of the eleventh-century impulse of Latin Christians to reconquer the Holy Land (see pp. 381-9). Hakim's atypical actions should not be attributed to Islam as much as to insanity, which eventually led him to proclaim himself as Allah, whereupon he was murdered by outraged fellow Muslims.45 Greater and irreversible troubles came when the Latin Crusades began and were followed by Mongol advances. The Mamluks, who seized power in Egypt in 1250, were a caste of men captured for military service, so they drew their ident.i.ty from their defence of Islam against its enemies. Even though Coptic Christians had little sympathy either with crusading Western Christians, who regarded them as heretics, or with Mongols, who favoured Nestorians heretical in Miaphysite eyes, it was now easy for Egyptian Muslims and their rulers to regard any Christian as a fifth columnist, especially when Crusaders and Mongols turned to actual invasion of Egypt during the thirteenth century. Just as in Central Asia, the fourteenth century proved the turning point into decline for the Coptic cause in Egypt, though not here into extinction. There was a particularly terrifying sequence of anti-Christian pogroms in 1354, when churches were torn down and both Jews and Christians were forced by mobs to recite the Islamic profession of faith, or be burned to death; unlike previous outbreaks there was little refuge, since the terror extended throughout the land, not just to Cairo.46 Christians were forced out of most of the best land in Egypt, 'exiles in their own country'. Christians were forced out of most of the best land in Egypt, 'exiles in their own country'.47 In a desperate and temporary move in the fifteenth century, the Church agreed to a union with the Latin Western Church, at a time when the Byzantine emperor was trying to arrange a similar deal with Rome for Greek Orthodoxy at the Council of Florence, but the Copts soon realized that they would gain little benefit from it. In a desperate and temporary move in the fifteenth century, the Church agreed to a union with the Latin Western Church, at a time when the Byzantine emperor was trying to arrange a similar deal with Rome for Greek Orthodoxy at the Council of Florence, but the Copts soon realized that they would gain little benefit from it.48 Their survival over the next three centuries was through their own efforts and the stubborn maintenance of ancient traditions in their monasteries, most of which could survive only in the most remote or poverty-stricken locations. Their survival over the next three centuries was through their own efforts and the stubborn maintenance of ancient traditions in their monasteries, most of which could survive only in the most remote or poverty-stricken locations.

While Christianity throughout North Africa, Egypt and Asia succ.u.mbed almost universally to Islamic rule, Ethiopia stood out as still a Christian monarchy, protected by its rugged geography and distance from the Muslim heartlands, but now rarely a major player in the politics of the Red Sea and Arabia, and never wholly secure. In the tenth century, Ethiopia faced a devastating revolt by a chieftainess, Gudit or Judith, who is said to have made it the business of her rebels to cause as much destruction as possible to the churches and Christian life of the kingdom. Certainly only the most remote buildings survive from an earlier date, most spectacularly the ancient cliff-top monastery of Dabra Damo in the Aksum region; this was one of the earliest foundations of Ethiopian monasticism, whose church, perched on a cliff top above a high hill, is still only accessible by scaling the cliff face clinging to a cable. Such troubles, and the near-obliteration of Ethiopia's historical record from the time of Gudit and before, make any attempt to reconstruct Ethiopian Christian history speculative, and a junk heap of romantic misconceptions demands a degree of critical ruthlessness in dealing with what evidence we have. The fragmentary truth looks remarkable enough.

At some periods Ethiopia was almost completely cut off from other Christians and might even have been without any abun abun sent from Alexandria to link it to the worldwide apostolic succession of bishops. Its available theological literature was selective and haphazard in character - so the Ethiopians came to treat the book known as I Enoch as part of the scriptural canon when it had lost respectability anywhere else, and indeed I Enoch played a special part in Ethiopian tradition by providing material for the foundation for the royal epic, the sent from Alexandria to link it to the worldwide apostolic succession of bishops. Its available theological literature was selective and haphazard in character - so the Ethiopians came to treat the book known as I Enoch as part of the scriptural canon when it had lost respectability anywhere else, and indeed I Enoch played a special part in Ethiopian tradition by providing material for the foundation for the royal epic, the Kebra Nagast Kebra Nagast (see p. 244). (see p. 244).49 Naturally prominent was a Miaphysite doctrinal anthology, named the Naturally prominent was a Miaphysite doctrinal anthology, named the Qerellos Qerellos after the main content extracted from the works of Cyril of Alexandria, but despite this link with one part of the wider Christian world, it was small wonder that the preoccupations and character of Ethiopian faith developed on very individual (not to say eccentric) lines. It was the Ethiopians, for instance, who meditated on various Coptic apocryphal accounts of Pontius Pilate and decided that the Roman governor who presided over Christ's crucifixion should become a Confessor of the Church, to be celebrated in their sacred art and given a feast day in June and a star place in the liturgy at Epiphany, the greatest feast of the year, when the priest intoned a phrase from the Psalms which was also an echo of his words: 'I will wash my hands in innocence'. The Copts and Ethiopians did not forget Pilate's complicity in the death of Christ, but in retelling his story they made him realize the full extent of his guilt, and they brought a symmetry to his fate by making him die on a cross, like the trio whom he had killed at Golgotha on the day that the sun hid its face. Thus Ethiopia's royal Church found a unique way of a.s.suaging the prolonged Christian embarra.s.sment that the life of Christ had been played out far from the contemporary inst.i.tutions of worldly power. after the main content extracted from the works of Cyril of Alexandria, but despite this link with one part of the wider Christian world, it was small wonder that the preoccupations and character of Ethiopian faith developed on very individual (not to say eccentric) lines. It was the Ethiopians, for instance, who meditated on various Coptic apocryphal accounts of Pontius Pilate and decided that the Roman governor who presided over Christ's crucifixion should become a Confessor of the Church, to be celebrated in their sacred art and given a feast day in June and a star place in the liturgy at Epiphany, the greatest feast of the year, when the priest intoned a phrase from the Psalms which was also an echo of his words: 'I will wash my hands in innocence'. The Copts and Ethiopians did not forget Pilate's complicity in the death of Christ, but in retelling his story they made him realize the full extent of his guilt, and they brought a symmetry to his fate by making him die on a cross, like the trio whom he had killed at Golgotha on the day that the sun hid its face. Thus Ethiopia's royal Church found a unique way of a.s.suaging the prolonged Christian embarra.s.sment that the life of Christ had been played out far from the contemporary inst.i.tutions of worldly power.50 It is to a new dynasty, the Zagwe kings (1137-1270), that Ethiopian Christianity attributes a cl.u.s.ter of Christian monuments which are as haunting and astonishing as the earlier stelae of Aksum: the twelve churches of the Zagwe capital city of Lalibela, cut from the living rock (see Plate 9). What is now a small rural town was renamed after a Zagwe king who reigned at the turn of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, to whom these extraordinary buildings are attributed. In fact, they must have taken much longer to construct than Lalibela's reign alone; some may be much earlier and may have survived the havoc attributed to Gudit through their indestructibility. It is said that King Lalibela conceived the idea of recreating Jerusalem in his capital after a visit to the Holy Land, in an effort to compensate for the renewed fall of the Holy City to Muslim armies in 1187 (see p. 385). As so often in Ethiopian history, it is impossible to know whether centuries of subsequent meditation, wishful thinking and purposeful political rebranding have overlaid whatever original scheme was intended at Lalibela, to produce its present rich skein of a.s.sociations with Jerusalem - the Church of Golgotha now includes two tombs designated respectively for Jesus Christ and King Lalibela, and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre lies at the heart of the Lalibela complex.51 What is clear is that this wave of new monuments to Ethiopian Christian confidence was followed by a major expansion of Christian life in a renewal of monasticism. Monks founded their communities for the first time in the central highlands, usually deliberately seizing pre-Christian holy sites, and they displayed all the heroic feats of ascetic self-denial which had been pioneered in Syria and Egypt. They were at the heart of two centuries and more which were another golden age of Ethiopian Christianity, as well as one of its greatest periods of contention and struggle. What is clear is that this wave of new monuments to Ethiopian Christian confidence was followed by a major expansion of Christian life in a renewal of monasticism. Monks founded their communities for the first time in the central highlands, usually deliberately seizing pre-Christian holy sites, and they displayed all the heroic feats of ascetic self-denial which had been pioneered in Syria and Egypt. They were at the heart of two centuries and more which were another golden age of Ethiopian Christianity, as well as one of its greatest periods of contention and struggle.52 At the end of the thirteenth century, another dynasty supplanted the Zagwe, and between its founder, Yekuno Amlak (reigned 1270-85), and his grandson Amda Seyon (reigned 1314-44), it came to restore the military might of Ethiopia. It appears that the Egyptian Coptic Church was affronted at the usurpation and refused to supply an abun abun, so for some considerable time the Ethiopians had to resort to bishops from Syria to preserve their episcopal succession.53 Such internationally expressed doubts needed addressing and a sustained campaign began to plug the dynasty into ancient history, with the aid of King Solomon: Amda Seyon's name ('Pillar of Zion') was no casual reference. It may thus be that this was the stage at which the Ethiopian Church's identification with Israel really began to become distinctive. The existence of the Such internationally expressed doubts needed addressing and a sustained campaign began to plug the dynasty into ancient history, with the aid of King Solomon: Amda Seyon's name ('Pillar of Zion') was no casual reference. It may thus be that this was the stage at which the Ethiopian Church's identification with Israel really began to become distinctive. The existence of the Kebra Nagast Kebra Nagast may have been the inspiration for this stratagem, and it is likely that its present literary form dates largely to around 1300. may have been the inspiration for this stratagem, and it is likely that its present literary form dates largely to around 1300.54 Later tradition represents a vital element in Negus Yekuno's support as his understanding with the chief activist in the expansion of monasteries, the monk from Dabra Damo, Iyasus Mo'a ('Jesus has prevailed'). It is a plausible but also a convenient story, since the monks were to prove a constant source of difficulty for the 'Solomonic' dynasty, through their independent charismatic authority and individual opinions. The chief disciple of Iyasus Mo'a, Takla Haymanot ('Plant of Faith'), was a formidable ascetic, said to have spent a considerable proportion of his life standing on one leg in his monastic cell, feeding on one seed brought by a bird once a year. When the other leg atrophied away, G.o.d rewarded the monk with an array of wings.55 We can take these stories as a shorthand indication for a religious leader with an intimidating a.r.s.enal of power. Takla Haymanot was the first in a series of monks to become a key figure at Court, as the Echage ( We can take these stories as a shorthand indication for a religious leader with an intimidating a.r.s.enal of power. Takla Haymanot was the first in a series of monks to become a key figure at Court, as the Echage (ecage). This official came to exercise the sort of power over Church life and government which might have been the abun abun's, if the abun abun had not been an elderly Egyptian. had not been an elderly Egyptian.

Tensions soon evolved between monarchy and monastery, whose new vigour naturally looked on existing Ethiopian inst.i.tutions with reforming zeal, and did not always welcome the new close a.s.sociation between the Court and some leading monks. One vexed issue has continued to agitate Christians throughout Africa to the present day: polygamy versus monogamy (see pp. 883-5). The Church was anxious to outlaw polygamy, which, despite having a perfectly respectable presence in the Tanakh, is clearly unacceptable in the New Testament. Ethiopian monarchs conformed to African tradition and habitually took several wives: the monk BaSalota Mika'el had the temerity to denounce Negus Amda Seyon himself for both polygamy and an array of concubines, and it is noticeable that the Kebra Nagast Kebra Nagast insists on monogamy for Christians. insists on monogamy for Christians.56 The monarchy stilled much of the criticism with generous grants of land to leading monasteries, and it did not give up polygamy. Neither did most of the Ethiopian laity, who virtually all accepted that the price of their maintenance of polygamy was that they would not get married in church, and that between marriage and final bereavement from their partners they would face exclusion from the Eucharist. They made something positive of their exclusion by turning it to the enthusiastic ritual practice of fasting. The monarchy stilled much of the criticism with generous grants of land to leading monasteries, and it did not give up polygamy. Neither did most of the Ethiopian laity, who virtually all accepted that the price of their maintenance of polygamy was that they would not get married in church, and that between marriage and final bereavement from their partners they would face exclusion from the Eucharist. They made something positive of their exclusion by turning it to the enthusiastic ritual practice of fasting.57 Parties developed among the monks and particular groups of monasteries, which were something like the orders of monks which evolved in the twelfth-century Western Church (see pp. 389-93). Particularly important over several centuries from the early fourteenth was the northern grouping known as the House of Ewostatewos, named after a monk who ended his life an exile, travelling extensively beyond his country as far as Miaphysite Armenia. Despite this unusual cosmopolitanism in their founder-hero, admirers of Ewostatewos concentrated their devotion on a peculiarly Ethiopian issue reflecting the Church's exploration of Judaism: the observance of the Jewish Sabbath as well as the Christian Sunday. This aroused opposition, especially from Christians encouraged by Alexandrian-born abuns abuns who knew the practice of the wider Church. Among a number of wooden inscriptions from Lalibela dubiously attributed to King Lalibela himself, the longest contains praise of Sunday; this probably tells us nothing about that particular king's att.i.tude to the subject, but may be taken as a contribution to the debate at some date which is uncertain. who knew the practice of the wider Church. Among a number of wooden inscriptions from Lalibela dubiously attributed to King Lalibela himself, the longest contains praise of Sunday; this probably tells us nothing about that particular king's att.i.tude to the subject, but may be taken as a contribution to the debate at some date which is uncertain.58 At issue was how far the Ethiopian Church was prepared to travel in its own direction and ignore what links it had with the wider world: monks of the House of Ewostatewos rejected ordination by the At issue was how far the Ethiopian Church was prepared to travel in its own direction and ignore what links it had with the wider world: monks of the House of Ewostatewos rejected ordination by the abun abun, and it is possible that they might have ended up as separate from their parent Christianity as that other independent-minded Ethiopian movement, the Falasha (see pp. 243-4).

The triumph of the Sabbath was sealed by devoted advocacy from one of Ethiopia's most remarkable monarchs, Zar'a Ya'qob (reigned 1434-68), who combined military success with intense piety, himself writing works of Christian instruction for his subjects. Thanks to Zar'a Ya'qob, Ethiopia's effective rule extended once more to the coast of the Red Sea, and despite the Negus's pride in the special character of Ethiopian devotion, he was intensely aware of his links with a wider world; he took the regnal name Constantine. There was a great sensation in Europe when a delegation of two monks from the Ethiopian monastery in Jerusalem arrived in 1441 at the Pope's council at Florence (see pp. 492-3) and uttered the name of their far-distant monarch - this was the same council which also received representations from the beleaguered Copts. Zar'a Ya'qob also derived great spiritual comfort from an unlikely source, a short popular work of devotion called The Miracles of Mary The Miracles of Mary, which seems to have been compiled for use in Marian shrines in France in the twelfth century; having gained great popularity in western Europe, it had been translated into Arabic and then into Ethiopic. The Negus made it a mandatory work of devotion for his clergy: a strange stray from an alien world which he nevertheless found a useful tool in moulding his people to a single style of faith, and Marian devotion was hugely reinforced in the Ethiopian Church.59 Less indebted to French devotional style was Zar'a Ya'qob's decree that all his subjects should be tattooed on their foreheads with the words 'Father, Son and Holy Spirit' and on their right and left hands respectively 'I deny the Devil' and 'I am a servant of Mary'. Ethiopian Christian tattooing still characteristically features a cross in blue on the chin or the forehead. Less indebted to French devotional style was Zar'a Ya'qob's decree that all his subjects should be tattooed on their foreheads with the words 'Father, Son and Holy Spirit' and on their right and left hands respectively 'I deny the Devil' and 'I am a servant of Mary'. Ethiopian Christian tattooing still characteristically features a cross in blue on the chin or the forehead.60 Zar'a Ya'qob was determined that religious divisions should not undermine his newly extended empire, and key to this was a full understanding between the Solomonic monarchy and the awkward monks of the House of Ewostatewos. This was achieved at a major council of the Ethiopian Church summoned to the Negus's newly founded monastery of Dabra Mitmaq in 1449, at which the main agreement was that both the Sabbath and Sunday should henceforth be observed. In return, monks of the House of Ewostatewos agreed to be reconciled to the abun abun and accept ordination at his hands; so the forces of Ethiopian particularism were not terminally separated from the Church's link to the wider Christian world. It was an important moment for the future of Ethiopian Christianity, a moment nevertheless when, in continuing to observe the Sabbath, it explicitly separated itself from the devotional practice of the Church it knew best, the Miaphysite Church of Alexandria. and accept ordination at his hands; so the forces of Ethiopian particularism were not terminally separated from the Church's link to the wider Christian world. It was an important moment for the future of Ethiopian Christianity, a moment nevertheless when, in continuing to observe the Sabbath, it explicitly separated itself from the devotional practice of the Church it knew best, the Miaphysite Church of Alexandria.

The Council of Dabra Mitmaq was a triumph for the Negus himself, the zenith of one of the most prosperous and self-confident eras in the empire's existence. His last years were troubled, as (in a pattern which would be repeated in Ethiopian history) this exceptionally talented man descended into paranoia and obsessive brutality. He became a recluse; his drive to regulate his Church, his hostility to any Judaism beyond the extent of his own ordinances and his determination to eradicate traditional non-Christian religion all led him into a spree of punishment killings. Among the victims accused of betraying their Christian faith were one of his wives and several of his children, flogged to death. After the Negus's own death, the movement away from the wider Church might have proceeded further, as powerful voices continued to question the role of the Egyptian abun abun in the Church, but in 1477 a further council of the Church presided over by his son reaffirmed this ancient link with the Patriarch of Alexandria. The fifteenth century thus set patterns and boundaries for Ethiopian Christianity which survived into modern times. Yet those links to a wider Catholicity were still to a Christianity which rejected the Roman imperial Church's conclusions at Chalcedon. This was a matter of great significance when the wider world erupted into the remoteness of Ethiopia in the sixteenth century, during one of the worst tests and most terrible times in its history (see pp. 711-12). in the Church, but in 1477 a further council of the Church presided over by his son reaffirmed this ancient link with the Patriarch of Alexandria. The fifteenth century thus set patterns and boundaries for Ethiopian Christianity which survived into modern times. Yet those links to a wider Catholicity were still to a Christianity which rejected the Roman imperial Church's conclusions at Chalcedon. This was a matter of great significance when the wider world erupted into the remoteness of Ethiopia in the sixteenth century, during one of the worst tests and most terrible times in its history (see pp. 711-12).

The Western bishops at the Council of Florence had not expected to hear of a king of Ethiopia called Zar'a Ya'qob, but they did know (or thought they knew) of a priest-king in the East called Prester John. Since the twelfth-century Crusades had first brought intensified contacts between Europe and the Middle East, there had been tales of this mighty Christian ruler who would be an ally for hard-pressed Latin Europeans against the threat of Islam. Some placed him in India, others, vague about geography beyond their own world, further north in Asia - this drew on the reality of Muslim defeats by Mongol khans in twelfth-century Central Asia who were in fact adherents of Buddhism, a religion which meant nothing to western Europeans. Friar William of Rubruck, one of the few to know better, had commented sourly in the 1260s that the stories about Prester John were all the fault of the Nestorians (Dyophysites), who were p.r.o.ne to 'create big rumours out of nothing'.61 At the Council of Florence in 1441, it was the reality of Ethiopia, a remote but powerful Christian monarchy south beyond Egypt, that encouraged new European excitement about Prester John. Prester John went on prompting optimism for a turn for the better in Christian fortunes; in addition to two hundred known ma.n.u.scripts of the Latin letter written by the imaginary king between the twelfth and seventeenth centuries, there were fourteen early printed editions of the letter up to 1565, and large numbers of translations into vernacular European languages.62 Nevertheless, in cold practical results, Prester John turned out to be a disappointing myth, and what it chiefly revealed was just how little Western Chalcedonian Christians knew about centuries of Christian struggle, scholarship, sanct.i.ty and heroism in another world. Western Christianity, heir to Chalcedon, Reformation and Counter-Reformation, still has a long way to go before the balance is fully righted. Nevertheless, in cold practical results, Prester John turned out to be a disappointing myth, and what it chiefly revealed was just how little Western Chalcedonian Christians knew about centuries of Christian struggle, scholarship, sanct.i.ty and heroism in another world. Western Christianity, heir to Chalcedon, Reformation and Counter-Reformation, still has a long way to go before the balance is fully righted.

Western Christians have forgotten that before the coming of Islam utterly transformed the situation in the eastern Mediterranean and Asia, there was a good chance that the centre of gravity of Christian faith might have moved east to Iraq rather than west to Rome. Instead, the ancient Christianity of the East was nearly everywhere faced with a destiny of contraction in numbers, suffering and martyrdom which still continues. But there was one practical consequence of the fifteenth-century Latin delusion that Prester John might unite with Western Christians. The myth generated an optimism which had a vital galvanizing effect on Latin Christianity, so it played a part in that surprising new expansion worldwide which from the end of the fifteenth century led Western Catholicism and Protestantism to become the dominant form of the Christian faith into modern times (see Chapter 17). It is towards Rome that we now turn, to begin exploring how this unlikely turn of events took place.

PART IV.

The Unpredictable Rise of Rome (300-1300)

9.

The Making of Latin Christianity (300-500) THE ROME OF THE POPES (300-400).

Two bishops in the universal Church still use an ancient Latin t.i.tle which started as a child's word of affection for its father: 'Papa' or, in English, 'Pope'. One is the Coptic Patriarch of Alexandria, supposedly a successor to the Gospel writer Mark, and certainly successor to Cyril, Dioscorus and the brutally murdered Proterius. The other is the Bishop of Rome, only slightly less supposedly a successor to the Apostle Peter, and leader of the largest single grouping within world Christianity. Of all the various Christian understandings of the word 'Catholic', the most commonly used is a description for the Church over which the pope in Rome presides, and with that usage there go claims for an overriding and objective authority among all other Christian bodies, which the contemporary papacy has so far done nothing to repudiate.1 A more neutral description of the 'Catholic Church' would be 'the Western Church of the Latin Rite'. The point of this admittedly c.u.mbersome label is that it acknowledges the equal historic status of the various Churches of Orthodoxy in eastern Europe and the Middle East, whom we have still to meet, not to mention the various Churches of Asia and Africa which decided after the fifth century to ignore or repudiate the Chalcedonian Definition of the nature of Jesus Christ. A more neutral description of the 'Catholic Church' would be 'the Western Church of the Latin Rite'. The point of this admittedly c.u.mbersome label is that it acknowledges the equal historic status of the various Churches of Orthodoxy in eastern Europe and the Middle East, whom we have still to meet, not to mention the various Churches of Asia and Africa which decided after the fifth century to ignore or repudiate the Chalcedonian Definition of the nature of Jesus Christ.

We now explore how this Latin-speaking Christianity evolved and flourished in western Europe up to the fourteenth century, when the pope's steady acc.u.mulation of authority began to falter. That was followed by a crisis in the sixteenth century, when much of Western Christianity with a Latin heritage broke away from its acknowledgement of the pope's leadership and gained yet another label as 'Protestantism'. The surviving Church under the Roman obedience still sustains one of the world's oldest monarchies, based on the claim to succeed Peter as Bishop of Rome and to be the guardian of his tomb. As we have noted (see pp. 134-5), such a claim bore the price of a gradual marginalization of the memory of Rome's other apostolic martyr, whose death was more certainly placed in the city, Paul of Tarsus. But that change was part of a momentous shift in the story of Christianity. From being the poor relation of the Greek- and Semitic-speaking Churches of the East, Latin Christianity survived largely unscathed the eruption of Islam, and embarked on adventures which turned it into the first world faith. It should not be forgotten how unpredictable this outcome was.

Peter's charisma was the most useful resource at the disposal of Roman bishops as, from the third century, they increasingly claimed to be arbiters of doctrine in the wider Church. No pope before mid-fifth-century Leo the Great at the time of the Council of Chalcedon in 451, and virtually none after him, could claim the authority of being a major theologian, nor did the city prove to be a centre of lively theological discussion or controversy. It is significant that the one exception to this rule, the disputes over Monarchian views of Christ (see pp. 145-7), had occurred in the late second century while the Church in Rome's predominant language was still Greek and links to the East were still strong. After that, the two outstanding theologians writing in Latin up to the fifth century, Tertullian and Augustine, were both natives not of Italy but of North Africa. The pope's claim to a special place in the life of the universal Church came rather from the tombs of the Apostles, and from the end of the third century it was reinforced by a further accident of history.

The Emperor Diocletian's reorganization of the whole empire would not have seemed particularly relevant to the popes in Rome when it took place in the 290s; he was after all about to become one of the Church's most dangerous enemies. Nevertheless, it had a major and permanent effect on the city. Diocletian removed the real centre of imperial government to four other capitals more strategically placed for emperors to deal with the problematic northern and eastern frontiers of the empire - Nicomedia in Asia Minor, Sirmium in what is now Serbia, Mediolanum, the modern Milan, and Augusta Trevorum, the modern Trier. Emperors never again returned to Rome for extended residence. Once the Church became the ally and beneficiary of emperors rather than the victim of their persecution, that vacuum in secular power in the ancient capital meant that the Christian bishop was given an opportunity to expand his power and position. By the end of the fourth century this combination of advantages made it worthwhile for Greek Christians in their various intractable disputes to appeal to popes for support, the most outstanding example being the place of Pope Leo I's Tome at Chalcedon.

Constantine I mightily helped the process along when he gave Christianity official status. In Rome he nevertheless had a handicap: he was working within the restrictions of a city whose heritage of monuments and temples reflected the glory of Christianity's enemies. Even though Rome was no longer in any real sense his capital, Constantine gave the Church in the city a set of C