Diplomacy

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A Venetian embassy during the Mamluk period

In Byzantium

Byzantine diplomacy can only be understood by examining how the Empire of the Romans—as it was known until its decline in 1453—perceived its role. The Empire was universalist and was the oikoumene—all the inhabited earth. Any territory that used to be Roman was authorized to be part of the Empire, and any land that wasn’t part of it was authorized to integrate the Empire, especially if it was a region inhabited by Christian people. Hence, there were no real ‘foreigners’ as far as the Byzantines were concerned, even if the emergence of new regional powers, like the Arab-Muslim Empire—which was certainly not Christian—in the seventh century, introduced another dimension to this conception of reality. In principle, the Empire didn’t sign treaties with Christian princes; the Emperor conceded—as he did for his real subjects—supposed unilateral advantages to those he considered at least as potential subjects.

The various princes were therefore part of a hierarchical order of the world headed by the Emperor of the Romans, who was the father of this princely ‘family’. Depending on their power and the nature of their relations, they held a specific rank in this family. The most distant were simple friends, and those who were closer were called sons. Finally, as a sign of ascension in the Emperor’s appreciation or vision of reality, they could become his brothers—younger brothers. The best example of this can be seen with the Bulgars. Their emergence as a power in the Balkans during the seventh century posed a constant threat to the Empire until Bulgaria’s annexation by Basil II (976–1025) in 1018.

These formidable warriors threatened the Empire many times; in 811, the emperor Nicephorus I (802–811) died fighting the Bulgarian king, Krum, who terrorized the population in Constantinople when he laid siege to the city. The situation changed radically in 864 when king Boris was baptized by the Byzantine clergy: the Bulgarians were still independent when they entered the Byzantine oikoumene, and their tsar, whose baptismal name was that of the reigning emperor Michael III (842–867), merited the appellation ‘son’. To ensure integration in the oikoumene, the sons of the Bulgarian king were sent to complete their education at Constantinople, where they were also hostages.

One of the sons, Symeon, was so well versed in Byzantine ideology that when he became tsar in 893 he decided to attack the Empire with every intention of supplanting the Emperor of the Romans. Until his death in 927, his incessant and terrible attacks continued; during times of relative peace, the patriarch Nicolas Mystikos was often the preferred contact, underlining the religious aspect of integrating the oikoumene. Symeon’s death brought peace to the region, and the Bulgarian tsar was then referred to as a ‘brother’. In 987, the new tsar Samuel decided to pursue Symeon’s warring ambitions. However, he was opposed by the most powerful of the Byzantine emperors, Basil II. The Emperor decided to put an end to the conflict once and for all; he annexed Bulgaria after a terrible war—a logical extension of the Empire’s universalist diplomacy, when it had the means—, which lasted from 991 to 1018.

Sate–State relations existed between the Arab caliphs. Of course, although war was a virtually constant reality, there were truces and prisoner exchanges. These were, therefore, veritable exchanges between embassies. Hence, in the ninth century, the Abbasid caliph, al-Ma‘mūn (who founded the House of Wisdom at Baghdad) learned from a captured official that an erudite man lived in Constantinople who’d mastered every aspect of Euclidian geometry—of which the Arabs had no knowledge—and sent an ambassador to Emperor Theophilos (829–843) and proposed peace and a lavish tribute if the Emperor would agree to send him Leo the Mathematician. The ambassador’s mission failed, however, because Theophilos was unwilling to do without such a valuable and knowledgeable man who had invented a system of optic telegraphy that gave advanced warning within the hour of events on the Tarsus border and was a system of great strategic importance. However, many mutual treaties were concluded with the Arab princes

After the conquest of Constantinople by the Latins in 1204 and the Byzantine restoration of 1261, the Empire was no longer able to maintain this level of diplomacy. It was now the Emperor’s turn to send hostages to the Ottoman sultan to attempt to allay potentially fatal attacks. Hence, Jean V Palaeologus (1341–1391) sent his own son Manuel as a hostage to Sultan Murād I. When he became emperor, Manuel II—rather than waiting for the arrival of ‘foreigners’ at Constantinople—travelled throughout Western Europe and met with various kings in a vain attempt to win their support.

Diplomatic organization depended on the person who had the highest rank amongst the civil officials, the Logothete of the Drome, who later became the Grand Logothete. He was responsible for a corps of interpreters and an official who was in charge of the building where envoys from foreign powers were welcomed before being eventually received by the Emperor.

There is an account of this reception written by Liutprand, the Bishop of Cremona, who was initially ambassador to the Lombard king Berengar, and then to the German emperor Otto I (936–973). During that period, the ambassadors were received in a specialized hall in a building of the imperial palace, the Magnaura. Liutprand described how he was led through the mazes of the palace blindfolded and with his hands tied behind his back like a prisoner, to ensure that it would be impossible for him to retrace his steps. He was then led into the immense hall and thrown to the ground, where he lay face down. He was then untied and his blindfold was taken off, and he could finally observe his surroundings. A clever device elevated the levitating throne on which emperor Constantine VII Porphyrogenitus was seated. Around the throne were automates: golden lions that roared and equally golden birds sang on golden branches. Not surprisingly, the ambassador was greatly impressed by such a luxurious scene, which was, of course, the intention. When the throne descended the ambassador was allowed to embrace the sovereign’s knees and kiss his purple slippers. This adequately sums up the Byzantine conception of diplomacy, which, in principle, was unequal but in reality was well adapted to the balance of power.

M. K.