of “collusion with the upper classes” appears to refer to the curial class, who made up the decurions (town councillors) scattered throughout the towns and cities of the Empire. This class was a far cry from the senatorial aristocracy of the West, some members of which had genuine old noble pedigrees. The curial class was even a cut below the equestrian order, which curiales often aspired to join. So, even to call the decurions “upper class” is a stretch. As for “collusion” between Emperor and decurions, this too is misleading. The chapter on Decurions in the Codex Theodosianus (Theodosian Code), the longest chapter in that compilation, contains no fewer than 192 laws. Far from revealing an attempt by the emperor to curry favor with the decurions, these are mostly penal laws prohibiting decurions from seeking to evade their compulsory duties as members of local curias (town councils). Decurions’ prime duty was as tax collectors, and any shortfall had to be made up out of their own pockets, failing which they could suffer forfeiture of their property or even execution.
What about the emperors’ relationship with the actual upper classes, particularly the senatorial aristocracy? Diocletian had a visceral dislike of, or at least total disdain for, the traditional senatorial aristocracy of the West, and he completed the job begun by previous emperors of practically eliminating them from all offices of any importance, a policy that would be reversed by Constantine but only in the West. The distinction between Diocletian and Constantine is crucial. (See Chapter 3.)
Peter Brown’s idea of “collusion with the upper classes” as some sort of ideal model of “autocracy” seems to have been inspired by William Beik in his Absolutism and Society in Seventeenth Century France: State Power and Provincial Aristocracy in Languedoc (1985) (cited by Brown, op. cit., at p. 23.) Beik’s book is a remarkable example of how myopic concentration on a narrow period and a narrow region can result in a complete misunderstanding of the main issues involved. Why was a supposedly anti-aristocratic reign (i.e. that of Louis XIV) “…sandwiched so tightly between the aristocratic Fronde and the aristocratic eighteenth century?” asks Beik. He sees Louis XIV’s post-Fronde reign as a “success” amounting to a “class alliance” between King and aristocracy. (Beik, loc. 4506.) If Louis XIV’s class alliance was such a success, why was his reign followed by a recurrence of the earlier problems? Beik does not even look at the later period. The Cardinal de Retz, a leading participant in the Fronde, an aristocratic rising against the French Crown, predicted in 1649 that “The parlements, which fanned the flames, will one day be consumed by them.” (Cited by Cobban 1950, p. 64.) This prediction came to pass with a vengeance in 1789, 150 years later, showing that a contemporary had better insight into the forces at work than a historian viewing it with the benefit of hindsight three hundred years later. (See Chapter 6.)
Beik’s error is compounded in his conclusion: “Absolutism was the political manifestation of a system of domination protecting the interests of a privileged class of officers and landed lords. Strong bonds linked the provincial nobility, the episcopacy, the various corps of royal officers, and the town oligarchies to the crown and to each other.” (Beik, loc. 4449.) “What sort of absolutism is suggested by these findings?” asks Beik, regarding this as almost a rhetorical question. The correct answer, though, is “No kind of absolutism.” For, far from being a picture of absolutism, this is actually a representation of some sort of shared government, a hybrid between monarchy and oligarchy, which is decidedly not a description of the reign of the “Sun King.”
In analyzing power relations or power structures, one really should be a little more careful with terms like “absolutism,” used by Beik throughout or “autocracy,” Brown’s preferred alternative to it. “Autocrat” and “autocracy” are from the Greek, meaning “ruling on one’s own,” or “a monarch of uncontrolled authority; an absolute, irresponsible governor; one who rules with undisputed sway.” (OED.) “Absolutism” has a very similar meaning. Coming from ab+solutus, from the Latin verb absolvo, it means literally (to free from, exempt, dispense from), as in Ulpian’s famous description of imperial power, Princeps legibus solutus est (Dig. 1.3.31), which is discussed below. In short, therefore, both autocracy and absolutism refer to a form of monarchy with total power. Despite his famous (and arguably misinterpreted) remark, L’état, c’est moi (I am the state), Louis XIV’s position was not one of total power, but it was also a far cry from a hybrid between monarchy and aristocracy. (See Chapter 6.)
Was Diocletian an Autocrat?
This brings us back to the fundamental question: Was monarchical power under Diocletian and the tetrarchy more autocratic than imperial power under the Principate? As mentioned above, unlike Augustus, Diocletian was not in the least bit bashful about revealing his power. Indeed, on the contrary, he revelled in displaying it. Gone was Augustus’s demure, even modest demeanor, replaced by pomp and bombast although, as we have seen, a number of Augustus’s successors had already blazed a trail toward the ostentation of the Dominate. We have the valuable insider view of the Emperor Julian, who was not taken in by the play-acting of either Augustus or Diocletian. And neither was Gibbon, from his very different vantage point. In sum, Diocletian’s actual power was probably not much greater, if at all, than that of Augustus three centuries earlier.
The real difference between these two great rulers was in their perception of threats to their position. Augustus’s elaborate charade was undoubtedly prompted by his concern not to meet the same fate as his adoptive father assassinated by a small band of aristocrats. Hence, he eschewed titles like “king” and “dictator” redolent of one-man rule while, at the same time, he fostered his inherited popularity with the masses, who shared none of the aristocracy’s republican sensibilities but actually wanted a strong ruler to champion their cause.
Diocletian had nothing but scorn and disdain for the senatorial aristocracy, which he demonstrated by essentially removing them from practically all positions of power. They had already been largely sidelined by successive emperors, so Diocletian had nothing to fear from them. And, as for the plebs urbana, the common people of Rome, he did nothing to court them either. He hardly ever set foot in Rome, which he clearly regarded as the capital of the Empire in name only. He came to power through the army, and any threat to his position would come from that quarter. Enough of his predecessors over the past century had been overthrown by military force. Hence his close attention to the army, which not only protected his position as emperor but also shored up the integrity of the empire. So, although Diocletian’s power may not have been any greater than that of Augustus, his power-base was very different.
Princeps Legibus Solutus Est
The reforms of Diocletian (r. 284–305) are generally lumped together with those of Constantine (r. 306–337). This is partly because of the scarcity of contemporary evidence of Diocletian’s reign and partly because there undoubtedly was a certain common thread running through both reigns though there was also one very major difference starting in the latter part of Constantine’s reign, as we shall see in Chapter 3. On the other hand, as we have already seen, some of the innovations attributed to Diocletian can be traced back to earlier emperors.
The great Roman jurist Ulpian (c. 170–228) summed up the emperor’s law-making powers in the formula: Quod principi placuit legis habet vigorem (What pleases the emperor has the force of law). (Dig. I.4.1.) Any doubt about the scope of imperial power in this regard is dispelled by Ulpian’s even more laconic and sweeping pronouncement: Princeps legibus solutus est (The emperor is not bound by the laws) (Dig. 1.3.31). Taken literally, this must mean that the emperor is above the law and, therefore, an absolute monarch. It has to be remembered that Ulpian’s opinions had no official status until they were incorporated into the Digest as part of the Corpus Juris
