Cyprian’s execution came during the persecution of Valerian (see above, p. 565) and it highlighted the insecurity of the Christian communities. As early as 64 Christians were used as scapegoats by the emperor Nero when seeking to allocate blame for the fire at Rome. Nero could exploit the distrust of Christians as easterners and the seclusion in which their activities took place. There was seldom, however, any concerted activity against the early Christians and no empire-wide decree against them. Those who were considered troublesome were prosecuted under the traditional powers given to provincial governors to maintain good order but, as Trajan had advised Pliny, Christians should not be sought out specifically and those who had lapsed were of no concern at all.
While the emperors of the second century were hostile or indifferent to Christians, this did not always result in persecution. Hadrian, for instance, ordered that action should only be taken against Christians if they could be shown as actively plotting against the Roman government, and that anyone bringing unjustified prosecutions against Christians should themselves be prosecuted. In Rome in the middle of the second century, the Christian communities were relatively unmolested. Marcus Aurelius, on the other hand, was more openly antagonistic. In 177 the governor of Lugdunum asked the emperor Marcus Aurelius’ advice on how to deal with the Christian community. The emperor replied that those who recanted could be set free but those who did not could be condemned to the arena or, if they were citizens, beheaded. In his Church History, Eusebius provides a harrowing account of the aftermath when what was clearly an immigrant Christian community was rounded up. Among the forty-eight put to death a slave girl, Blandina, stood out for her courage. It was said that her death aroused enthusiasm among other Christians, for whom a painful but sudden death seemed little price to pay for the guarantee of eternal bliss in heaven.
There were clearly complex psychological elements of martyrdom. In north Africa in particular, there are signs of a collective willingness among communities to face death for their beliefs, with others attracted to Christianity as a result of their example. Tertullian put it succinctly: ‘The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.’ One of the conflicts within the early Christian communities was over whether one should seek martyrdom as a passage to heaven or make every attempt to avoid it by keeping out of sight. In effect, this was an extension of a much deeper split in the church between those who wished to compromise with and live within Roman society and those who saw Christians as a race apart and this a transient life.
One of the most moving of early Christian documents, in fact the most important surviving example of a woman’s voice from these early centuries, is the prison diary kept by Perpetua, an early martyr who died with her slave girl, Felicity, in the arena at Carthage in 203. Perpetua’s father desperately tried to persuade her to renounce her faith, especially as she was still nursing her infant daughter, but Perpetua stood firm and in prison appears to have exercised a leadership role over other Christian prisoners. She met her death with dignity, even, it was said, guiding the gladiator’s sword to her throat. It could be argued the very specific context of martyrdom shaped a role for women as leaders that was denied to them in the everyday activities of the churches.
The persecution of Christians reached its fullest extent in the third and early fourth centuries but even then it was not consistent. It was inevitable that those who refused to sacrifice to the gods would be confronted when the continuing defeats of the empire suggested that those gods were deserting Rome. Under Decius, the requirement to sacrifice made no mention of Christians, although many died when they openly refused to comply. Under Valerian, bishops were the prime targets, but then there were some forty years of comparative peace under Gallienus and his successors. By the end of the third century Christianity was winning converts higher in the social scale so that even Diocletian’s wife was rumoured to have Christian sympathies. Bishops were becoming well-known local figures, running large and well-organized communities and distributing alms among their members, and in doing so filling gaps left by the decay of traditional institutions.
The most intensive and brutal persecutions of all took place under Diocletian and his successor Galerius between 303 and 312. The spread of Christianity among the troops appears to have been the catalyst. The edict was issued from Nicome-dia and ordered the destruction of churches and the burning of scriptures while
Christians of rank were to lose their privileges. A later edict authorized the arrest of church leaders. It was a last ditch attempt to deal with a community which was infiltrating not only the army but the bureaucracy and even the imperial household. Outside the legions, the vigour of repression depended very much on the initiative of local governors and many Christian communities escaped persecution completely. Constantius seems to have ignored the edicts, while Galerius enforced them with enthusiasm, renewing persecution between 305 and 311. There are other accounts of governors who tried to find compromises so that they would not have to order an execution. However, the random nature of the attacks, in which official backing was often given to the activities of lynch mobs, was frightening. The historian Eusebius gives graphic details of the different ways in which communities across the empire were targeted and the methods of execution chosen. The Christian Lactantius, writing in the same period, told of the terrible punishments God would exact in retaliation for these enormities.
Yet persecution was counter-productive and the pragmatic emperors realized it. Even Galerius had relented by 311. Stricken with cancer, he now enjoined Christians ‘to pray to their god for our health and the safety of the state. It was a remarkable turnaround in attitude even if Galerius offered no compensation for property he had ordered destroyed. After Galerius’ death, the new Augustus, Licinius, went much further, especially when, after prayers to ‘the Supreme God, he emerged as victorious over his rival Maximinus in 313. The Edict of Milan (see earlier, p. 578) linked the Christian God with military victory in a way that could never have been envisaged before.
World History
