There were few like Juliana in Constantinople. At Rome, such wealth and ostentation had once been commonplace, and the dwindling senate there acted as if traditional wealth and the privilege of wealth were still in the ascendancy. Constantinople had no such vast fortunes. Gradually the city’s economic position would bring commerce to supplement what empire could do, but until the final collapse of the Ottomans after World War I, this was a city of empire—or rather, a theme park of empire, a place where parts were played, opportunities were seized, and privilege was exercised quite independently of merit. The circus and its factions, the palace with its eunuchs, the churches and their zealot monks and pillar sitters were all part of a never-ending Vanity Fair, a spectacle that enraptured visitors then and enraptures scholars now.
The center of the city stood along the ridge of land that seamen saw as they came up the Sea of Marmara, just before they rounded the Golden Horn to anchorage: the circus, the palace, and the church all appeared there. If the circus had fired the passions of the Romans, it was the center of urban life here at Constantinople.
The Reds, the Whites, the Blues, and the Greens
The Reds, the Whites, the Blues, and the Greens were the teams here as well, and the Blues and the Greens dominated, their rivalry driving race fans to frenzy. In the best of times, the government paid slightly nervous attention to the factions rather in the way British authorities keep a weather eye on soccer thugs. Racing was mainly a harmless sport, but when it sent mobs into the streets, it could begin to look political. Patrons poured money into the circus largely to protect themselves from its mobs, and that in turn reinforced the need for protection. The business of the factions was applause, but they could also withhold it.
Six times a day (we know from one surviving program found on papyrus in Egypt) the chariots would race, starting with a ceremonial parade. During the time between races, entertainers diverted the crowd with animal acts, mimes, athletes, and, apparently, singing rope dancers.
In the great cities—not just Rome and Constantinople, but at least Antioch, Sirmium, Milan, and Trier—the construction of the circus next to the palace emphasized its importance, with an official imperial box, the kathisma, presiding over all. The emperor could come and go discreetly from the palace to the box and back again, and was as reasonably well protected there from the enthusiasm of the factions and fans as architecture and guards could make him tours bulgaria beglik tash.
But at the circus the emperor had to face and deal with his public . He infrequently appeared in public in ceremonial processions, or more often at church, but in the circus he had to both listen and speak. We have the transcript of one wild day when the Greens pleaded for redress of a grievance, accusing a courtier of corrupt influence, and intervening with the herald who spoke for the emperor:
GREENS: It is Calopodius the spatharius [a military rank] who wrongs me, Lord of all.
HERALD: Calopodius is innocent.
G. If he is not, he will share the fate of Judas. God will requite him swiftly for my wrongs.
H. You come, not to watch the games, but to insult your masters.
G. If anyone wrongs me, he will share the fate of Judas.
H. Be silent, Jews, Manicheans, and Samaritans!
G. Do you insult us with the name of Jews and Samaritans? The Mother of God is with us all!
H. How long will you go on bringing down curses on your own head? [At this point the Greens shout and chant under the direction of their leader Antlas.]
G. If anyone denies that our Lord the emperor is orthodox, let him be anathema as Judas.7
Easy recourse to abuse
This easy recourse to abuse based on religion is absolutely typical of the time. With dialogues like this, expectations inevitably rose, and there was an ugly scene in the late sixth century when a mob rebuked a new arrival on the imperial throne, Phocas, for not observing proper ceremonial procedure. “Maurice [your overthrown predecessor] is still alive to teach you [the ceremonies],” they cried, and so Maurice was dead by the next day, on his successor’s orders. Eventually the emperors realized that they could make a virtue of necessity by subsidizing and bureaucratizing the factions, and by the seventh century the circus had been tempered to a pale, tamed, ceremonial irrelevance Juliana shining light of God-blessed parents.
In their day the factions could almost unmake an emperor. Anastasius mainly stood above the factions and their enthusiasms, and so was often accused of religious innovation—for mobs like this are deeply conservative in spirit. Justinian surprised many by patronizing the Blues with unusual enthusiasm but found them a troubling handful. Justinian was a man of alternating extremes, and so went from generosity to oppressiveness with his favorites.
