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This chapter has two purposes. First, it outlines the problems of and methods for finding the popular voice in our evidence from Roman antiquity. Utilising James C. Scott’s paradigm of hidden transcripts, this chapter argues that wider perceptions of the Roman emperor can be excavated from a wide-range of different material. Second, the chapter explores the history and historiography of the Roman emperor and how the power of the Roman emperor has been described and understood in antiquity and beyond.
How was the Roman emperor viewed by his subjects? How strongly did their perception of his role shape his behaviour? Adopting a fresh approach, Panayiotis Christoforou focuses on the emperor from the perspective of his subjects across the Roman Empire. Stress lies on the imagination: the emperor was who he seemed, or was imagined, to be. Through various vignettes employing a wide range of sources, he analyses the emperor through the concerns and expectations of his subjects, which range from intercessory justice to fears of the monstrosities associated with absolute power. The book posits that mythical and fictional stories about the Roman emperor form the substance of what people thought about him, which underlines their importance for the historical and political discourse that formed around him as a figure. The emperor emerges as an ambiguous figure. Loved and hated, feared and revered, he was an object of contradiction and curiosity.
The consolidation of French kingship in the 13th century was accomplished by a group of jurists – the legists – trained in the Civil Law and ready to imagine their ruler as princeps after the Roman model. No longer simply a feudal suzerain, Philip the Fair would assert his legal authority against provincial lords, against the head of the Roman Church (Boniface VIII), and against whoever would possess the imperial throne. Although described as legibus solutus by his legal counsel, Philip remained dependent on the material resources possessed by his most powerful vassals, by the church orders and by his bankers, all of whom were learning to invoke their dominium proprietatis against the dominium iurisdictionis of their king.
The third chapter examines the iconography of the ‘hand of God’ spread during the late Roman Empire from the mid-third century onwards, and in the context of interactions between pagan, Jewish and Christian cultures. This particular iconography leads directly to the idea of self-coronation – although still an iconographic rather than performative reality – since it conveys the emperor being crowned by a celestial hand from above, without priestly intervention. Numismatic sources emerge here as crucial evidence, particularly in the case of third- and fourth-century Roman emperors. The iconography of the emperor being crowned by the hand of God did not extend to early Byzantium, but survived in medieval art through the iconography of the king or emperor being crowned by Jesus Christ.
This article investigates the use, in Pliny's official writings of imperial praise, of the theme of ‘divine comedy’ – the idea that everything is for the best in the imperial world under the ideal emperor. An examination of this prominent theme can help us understand how Pliny handled the inevitable tensions in an imperial ideology which was grounded in the opposing figures of the ‘good’ emperor who deserved deification, and the ‘bad’ emperor who deserved tyrannicide.
The bulk of our sources, whether historiographic, juristic or epigraphic, give the impression that the Roman emperor was all-powerful and always busy. There are only a few contemporary sources from the first and second centuries which give any real insight into the composition of the emperor's circle of advisers. Juvenal's fourth Satire contains the only depiction, however distorted, by a literary source of a specific meeting of the consilium and its individual members, in this instance a meeting early in Domitian's reign. According to Juvenal, Domitian was staying at his estate in the Alban hills south-east of Rome, when a fisherman presented him with an extraordinary present: the largest barbel ever to have been caught. Juvenal has not invented the bringing together of senators and equestrians in an advisory body for appearances' sake. It is clear that during the second century, the membership of the emperor's consilium began to become regularized.
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