Couple of maps of Europe in 1232AD, at the accession of Emperor Isaac II, showing national and religious divisions...
Isaac's Empire
- Thread starter Basileus Giorgios
- Start date
By looking at the two maps:
1) I can understand the apperent lack of damage to the Empire, that we accepted from where the Khanate is, although prehaps a little more damage done if you go over it again.
2) Interesting that Catholisicm seems to be pushed more up north, i can see a crusade against Scandaniva (spelling
) soon.
Keep it, one of my fave TL
1) I can understand the apperent lack of damage to the Empire, that we accepted from where the Khanate is, although prehaps a little more damage done if you go over it again.
2) Interesting that Catholisicm seems to be pushed more up north, i can see a crusade against Scandaniva (spelling
) soon.Keep it, one of my fave TL
Sorry, my mistake, I mean when the mongols attack china, china is pretty divided.
Emperor Isaac II was thirty two years old when he inherited the throne of the Roman Empire. Despite his youth, he was widely liked and trusted by the Senate and Church, due to his relaxed, yet confident ways. In Rome, Pope Michael I, himself newly crowned declared a golden age of glory over the Empire. Isaac II’s reign would certainly be one to be remembered.
The Emperor came to the throne just months after the violent Mongol raid of Ögedei Khan, and therefore he sent embassies to the new Khan, Ögedei’s nephew Batu. However, all was not well at the court of the Great Khan. Though Batu had directed the conquest of Song China, adding new riches to the Mongol Empire, and thus erasing the shame of the Battle of Abydos, he was never personally popular among the Mongols themselves. They were virtually sure that he was not, as he claimed, a direct blood descendant of the great Genghis, as his grandmother, had given birth to his father just weeks after Genghis released her from captivity. A short, bitter struggle for power in Karakorum followed. Batu was executed, and his cousin Güyük was elected Great Khan. But others still clamored for Güyük’s throne, and so the new Khan was happy to sign a peace treaty with the Romans.
Despite the peace, Isaac and Theodora both remained wary of the Mongols. Therefore, in 1236, they sent embassies to Kiev, the empire’s closest and most powerful ally. The two states agreed to mutually aid each other in the event of a Mongolian attack. Gradually, Roman and Russian civilization was beginning to draw together. A heavily pregnant Empress Theodora even visited Kiev personally over Christmas of 1240, where she went into labour, and delivered Isaac the last of their three children, a son, Constantine. This boy was hailed by the Metropolitan of Kiev as an honorary Russian, due to the fact that his baptism took place in the main cathedral of Kiev.
In the empire proper, business was booming. The growth of cities continued at a rate unseen for over a millennium. Constantinople’s population now stood at over one and a half million, fed by vast imports of grain from Anatolia and the Russian steppes. Within these large cities, something very new was happening however. For the first time in its history, the Roman Empire was developing a middle class.
The new middle classes were a mixed group. Made up of scholars, doctors, lawyers and merchants, they were rapidly spreading across the empire. More worryingly for the Imperial system, they were finding ways to exert their voice in the state. The ancient blue-blooded families of the Constantinopolitan Senate were slowly losing ground, as more and more middle income citizens flooded in. Gradually, the middle class began to demand a change in government. No longer could the Empire exist as a divine monarchy. Peacefully, though insistently, the middle classes began to campaign for a system not seen in its rawest form since before Christ Himself, a Demokratia.
At first, Isaac and Theodora were unsure how to cope with these demands. Both were extremely popular with the people, and had no wish to alienate them. On the other hand, anything that gave the mob more power surely reduced the power of the Basileus, Equal of the Apostles as he was. Nevertheless, the rulers decided to listen to the people’s demands. After all, did Jesus himself not say all were equal before the eyes of God?
Progress towards a true democracy in the empire was initially very slow, partly due to Isaac and Theodora’s extreme caution. However, in 1246, one event suddenly jerked the democratic movement back into life. From the East, a terrible plague arrived.
How exactly the Black Death swept down on the Roman Empire is unknown, though it is virtually certain that Mongols were involved. The most likely theory is in 1244, the Mongols, supported by Chinese auxiliaries, were engaged in putting down a revolt in Georgia. During a protracted siege of the town of Batumi, the disease erupted amongst the Mongol army. The ingenious Mongol leader catapulted the infected corpses over the city walls to infect the inhabitants. The Georgian rebels fled west, bringing the plague by ship into Constantinople and the Balkans, whence it spread, with frightening speed.
The plague arrived at the capital around March. By the end of the year, it had spread as far north as Frankfurt and Paris, and as far west as Portugal. From its original Georgian genesis point, the Black Death, as it came to be known, rampaged southward to Baghdad and Cairo, and back eastwards into the Mongol Empire. Half the world was united in death and suffering.
Though the Plague in Constantinople lasted less than a year, in that time almost half of the capital’s population was removed over one long, nightmarish summer. Conditions were warm and wet, perfect for the fleas, which leapt from one corpse to the next. As far as the bacterium involved, Yersinia pestis, was concerned, Constantinople was the perfect home. Though this was now the bacterium’s third visit to the capital, Roman medicine proved as inefficient as ever. By July, the Empress Theodora was stricken, followed quickly by her daughter Helena, the Imperial couple’s eldest child.
One man remained safe though. Isaac Bringas, Emperor of the Romans, would later put his survival down to the grace of the Virgin, thought it is more likely to have been from his own insistence on personal hygiene that was unparalleled amongst contemporary European monarchs. By October, when the plague finally began to die back (though it would continue to ravage more distant areas such as England and Spain into the next year), Isaac could ponder the immense task of reconstruction.
The problems he faced were formidable. Between a quarter and a third of the population of the Empire had been erased, among them many generals, senators and bishops, not to mention his beloved wife and daughter. According to later legend, the Emperor had a dream in which the Virgin ordered him to tend to the sick and needy, as Christ before him had done. Isaac, an exceptionally pious man, did just that. Leaving the government in the hands of his six year old son Constantine (though more practically, Patriarch Alexander of Constantinople), Isaac began to tour the empire, following the example of John II before him. Iconium, Caesarea, Antioch and Bethlehem were all visited in a breakneck three month tour of the east. Next, the emperor boarded ship for Sicily, visiting Cyprus and Crete en route. He dared not venture into the Italian heartland, where the fires of the plague still flickered, but his presence at Palermo and Bari was greatly appreciated by the general populace. Finally, at the end of 1247, he returned home, via Dyracchium and Thessalonica.
Not only did Isaac’s tour of the empire further increase his immense popularity, it also gave the Emperor serious food for thought. All around his realm he had met his average citizens, law abiding, intelligent men and women who felt passionately about the state of affairs in their particular theme, and wished to have a more direct stake in the empire. After all, they argued, yes, the Emperor was the Equal of the Apostles. But in the eyes of the Lord, all men are born equal. Why should the chance for advancement to the very highest position of state be denied to the lowly born?
One of the most passionate men speaking out in favour of this theory was Patriarch Alexander, newly promoted by the Emperor to be Pope. Alexander, whose grandparents had been farmers in Sparta, a peaceful backwater of the empire, felt strongly about the issue of the small man rising himself up to power and recognition through piety, strength, and a good deal of hard work. Over the next few years, he engaged in major discussions with his close friend the Emperor, by aiding him with several minor theological matters, such as Isaac’s second marriage to an Athenian, Katherine.
Finally, in 1252, the Emperor rolled out sweeping new legislation. Every themata would henceforth be ruled in tandem, by a military commander, the commander of the theme’s legion who would be responsible for defence of the theme and organising the contribution to the army, and an elected magistrate from the general populace, to monitor internal affairs within the theme, such as taxation and trade. This magistrate could serve for a period of up to three years before re-election, after which he was eligible to stand as a Senator in Palermo, Thessalonica, Iconium or Bethlehem, which Isaac designated as “dioceses”. Finally, the citizen could aim for the ultimate honour, as a member of the Constantinopolitan Senate, holding such ferocious powers as voting on taxes, how many soldiers to deploy in event of war, organisation of the grain supply in Constantinople, and generally ultimate authority in the empire unless directly overruled by the Emperor himself. Every Christian male citizen over the age of 16 gained the right to vote, and women too could earn the right, provided they were they sufficiently pious and intelligent.
For the ancient aristocracy, it was a bitter blow, but they were too divided and shattered by the plague to do much to oppose it. They retained hereditary seats on the Senate, and in practise their greater funds meant that they were far more able to run an election campaign than the common man, though after a while, this advantage began to count for less and less.
Nevertheless, despite these seismic changes, in many ways, life continued as normal. The legions still nervously watched the Mongol frontier, to the north the Germans rampaged around the Baltic, seeking converts to heretical Catholicism, while fur and caviar swept down the Dnieper from Russia to Byzantium. This was the world into which the boy Emperor Constantine X emerged. Constantine grew up in an empire enjoying a golden age. Fluent in Latin, Greek, and Arabic, Constantine was clearly destined to be another scholar emperor, like his illustrious namesake, the 10th century Constantine VIII. And when his father Isaac breathed his last, aged around seventy, on September 19th, 1269, Constantine was ready.
Already, his world was changing. In 1258, the Mongol army had sacked Baghdad. Once Constantinople’s only true rival outside China, the great city had been left a snuffed out shell. The golden age of Islam had been obliterated in a few days. The Muslim chronicler Abdullah Wassaf perfectly captures the mood of terror and destruction in the city of the Caliph.
"They swept through the city like hungry falcons attacking a flight of doves, or like raging wolves attacking sheep, with loose reins and shameless faces, murdering and spreading terror...beds and cushions made of gold and encrusted with jewels were cut to pieces with knives and torn to shreds. Those hiding behind the veils of the great Harem were dragged...through the streets and alleys, each of them becoming a plaything...as the population died at the hands of the invaders."
The sack of Baghdad worried the Romans, not because they regretted the loss of life- they did not- but more the scale of the damage. Few could imagine such a catastrophe overturning a major Roman city like Antioch or Bethlehem, let alone Constantinople herself. In the face of the gathering Mongol storm, the Romans cast their memories back to the dark days prior to the Battle of Abydos, when a Mongolian army had easily swept past their defenses and rampaged through Anatolia. And that was just a raid. Imagine what a full scale invasion could do!
At Karakorum, the Great Khan Hulagu, and his successor Abaqa had similar emotions. In 1259, nervous Roman ambassadors had arrived at Karakorum seeking an extension of the peace, which Hulagu was happy to grant, but Aqaba was less inclined to be peaceful. In 1265, the by now elderly Isaac had tried to offer the Khan the hand of his illegitimate daughter Maria in marriage, but Abaqa turned down the proposal.Despite (or perhaps because of) the fact that he was a nominal Christian, Abaqa wanted control over the greatest and oldest state in the Christian world. By the time Constantine X came to the throne in 1269, the situation was rapidly spiraling out of control. Once again, the Mongols were marching on the Roman Empire. This time, they would not be repelled so easily.
ROMAN THEMATA AND DIOCESES AFTER THE REFORMS OF 1252AD
The Emperor came to the throne just months after the violent Mongol raid of Ögedei Khan, and therefore he sent embassies to the new Khan, Ögedei’s nephew Batu. However, all was not well at the court of the Great Khan. Though Batu had directed the conquest of Song China, adding new riches to the Mongol Empire, and thus erasing the shame of the Battle of Abydos, he was never personally popular among the Mongols themselves. They were virtually sure that he was not, as he claimed, a direct blood descendant of the great Genghis, as his grandmother, had given birth to his father just weeks after Genghis released her from captivity. A short, bitter struggle for power in Karakorum followed. Batu was executed, and his cousin Güyük was elected Great Khan. But others still clamored for Güyük’s throne, and so the new Khan was happy to sign a peace treaty with the Romans.
Despite the peace, Isaac and Theodora both remained wary of the Mongols. Therefore, in 1236, they sent embassies to Kiev, the empire’s closest and most powerful ally. The two states agreed to mutually aid each other in the event of a Mongolian attack. Gradually, Roman and Russian civilization was beginning to draw together. A heavily pregnant Empress Theodora even visited Kiev personally over Christmas of 1240, where she went into labour, and delivered Isaac the last of their three children, a son, Constantine. This boy was hailed by the Metropolitan of Kiev as an honorary Russian, due to the fact that his baptism took place in the main cathedral of Kiev.
In the empire proper, business was booming. The growth of cities continued at a rate unseen for over a millennium. Constantinople’s population now stood at over one and a half million, fed by vast imports of grain from Anatolia and the Russian steppes. Within these large cities, something very new was happening however. For the first time in its history, the Roman Empire was developing a middle class.
The new middle classes were a mixed group. Made up of scholars, doctors, lawyers and merchants, they were rapidly spreading across the empire. More worryingly for the Imperial system, they were finding ways to exert their voice in the state. The ancient blue-blooded families of the Constantinopolitan Senate were slowly losing ground, as more and more middle income citizens flooded in. Gradually, the middle class began to demand a change in government. No longer could the Empire exist as a divine monarchy. Peacefully, though insistently, the middle classes began to campaign for a system not seen in its rawest form since before Christ Himself, a Demokratia.
At first, Isaac and Theodora were unsure how to cope with these demands. Both were extremely popular with the people, and had no wish to alienate them. On the other hand, anything that gave the mob more power surely reduced the power of the Basileus, Equal of the Apostles as he was. Nevertheless, the rulers decided to listen to the people’s demands. After all, did Jesus himself not say all were equal before the eyes of God?
Progress towards a true democracy in the empire was initially very slow, partly due to Isaac and Theodora’s extreme caution. However, in 1246, one event suddenly jerked the democratic movement back into life. From the East, a terrible plague arrived.
How exactly the Black Death swept down on the Roman Empire is unknown, though it is virtually certain that Mongols were involved. The most likely theory is in 1244, the Mongols, supported by Chinese auxiliaries, were engaged in putting down a revolt in Georgia. During a protracted siege of the town of Batumi, the disease erupted amongst the Mongol army. The ingenious Mongol leader catapulted the infected corpses over the city walls to infect the inhabitants. The Georgian rebels fled west, bringing the plague by ship into Constantinople and the Balkans, whence it spread, with frightening speed.
The plague arrived at the capital around March. By the end of the year, it had spread as far north as Frankfurt and Paris, and as far west as Portugal. From its original Georgian genesis point, the Black Death, as it came to be known, rampaged southward to Baghdad and Cairo, and back eastwards into the Mongol Empire. Half the world was united in death and suffering.
Though the Plague in Constantinople lasted less than a year, in that time almost half of the capital’s population was removed over one long, nightmarish summer. Conditions were warm and wet, perfect for the fleas, which leapt from one corpse to the next. As far as the bacterium involved, Yersinia pestis, was concerned, Constantinople was the perfect home. Though this was now the bacterium’s third visit to the capital, Roman medicine proved as inefficient as ever. By July, the Empress Theodora was stricken, followed quickly by her daughter Helena, the Imperial couple’s eldest child.
One man remained safe though. Isaac Bringas, Emperor of the Romans, would later put his survival down to the grace of the Virgin, thought it is more likely to have been from his own insistence on personal hygiene that was unparalleled amongst contemporary European monarchs. By October, when the plague finally began to die back (though it would continue to ravage more distant areas such as England and Spain into the next year), Isaac could ponder the immense task of reconstruction.
The problems he faced were formidable. Between a quarter and a third of the population of the Empire had been erased, among them many generals, senators and bishops, not to mention his beloved wife and daughter. According to later legend, the Emperor had a dream in which the Virgin ordered him to tend to the sick and needy, as Christ before him had done. Isaac, an exceptionally pious man, did just that. Leaving the government in the hands of his six year old son Constantine (though more practically, Patriarch Alexander of Constantinople), Isaac began to tour the empire, following the example of John II before him. Iconium, Caesarea, Antioch and Bethlehem were all visited in a breakneck three month tour of the east. Next, the emperor boarded ship for Sicily, visiting Cyprus and Crete en route. He dared not venture into the Italian heartland, where the fires of the plague still flickered, but his presence at Palermo and Bari was greatly appreciated by the general populace. Finally, at the end of 1247, he returned home, via Dyracchium and Thessalonica.
Not only did Isaac’s tour of the empire further increase his immense popularity, it also gave the Emperor serious food for thought. All around his realm he had met his average citizens, law abiding, intelligent men and women who felt passionately about the state of affairs in their particular theme, and wished to have a more direct stake in the empire. After all, they argued, yes, the Emperor was the Equal of the Apostles. But in the eyes of the Lord, all men are born equal. Why should the chance for advancement to the very highest position of state be denied to the lowly born?
One of the most passionate men speaking out in favour of this theory was Patriarch Alexander, newly promoted by the Emperor to be Pope. Alexander, whose grandparents had been farmers in Sparta, a peaceful backwater of the empire, felt strongly about the issue of the small man rising himself up to power and recognition through piety, strength, and a good deal of hard work. Over the next few years, he engaged in major discussions with his close friend the Emperor, by aiding him with several minor theological matters, such as Isaac’s second marriage to an Athenian, Katherine.
Finally, in 1252, the Emperor rolled out sweeping new legislation. Every themata would henceforth be ruled in tandem, by a military commander, the commander of the theme’s legion who would be responsible for defence of the theme and organising the contribution to the army, and an elected magistrate from the general populace, to monitor internal affairs within the theme, such as taxation and trade. This magistrate could serve for a period of up to three years before re-election, after which he was eligible to stand as a Senator in Palermo, Thessalonica, Iconium or Bethlehem, which Isaac designated as “dioceses”. Finally, the citizen could aim for the ultimate honour, as a member of the Constantinopolitan Senate, holding such ferocious powers as voting on taxes, how many soldiers to deploy in event of war, organisation of the grain supply in Constantinople, and generally ultimate authority in the empire unless directly overruled by the Emperor himself. Every Christian male citizen over the age of 16 gained the right to vote, and women too could earn the right, provided they were they sufficiently pious and intelligent.
For the ancient aristocracy, it was a bitter blow, but they were too divided and shattered by the plague to do much to oppose it. They retained hereditary seats on the Senate, and in practise their greater funds meant that they were far more able to run an election campaign than the common man, though after a while, this advantage began to count for less and less.
Nevertheless, despite these seismic changes, in many ways, life continued as normal. The legions still nervously watched the Mongol frontier, to the north the Germans rampaged around the Baltic, seeking converts to heretical Catholicism, while fur and caviar swept down the Dnieper from Russia to Byzantium. This was the world into which the boy Emperor Constantine X emerged. Constantine grew up in an empire enjoying a golden age. Fluent in Latin, Greek, and Arabic, Constantine was clearly destined to be another scholar emperor, like his illustrious namesake, the 10th century Constantine VIII. And when his father Isaac breathed his last, aged around seventy, on September 19th, 1269, Constantine was ready.
Already, his world was changing. In 1258, the Mongol army had sacked Baghdad. Once Constantinople’s only true rival outside China, the great city had been left a snuffed out shell. The golden age of Islam had been obliterated in a few days. The Muslim chronicler Abdullah Wassaf perfectly captures the mood of terror and destruction in the city of the Caliph.
"They swept through the city like hungry falcons attacking a flight of doves, or like raging wolves attacking sheep, with loose reins and shameless faces, murdering and spreading terror...beds and cushions made of gold and encrusted with jewels were cut to pieces with knives and torn to shreds. Those hiding behind the veils of the great Harem were dragged...through the streets and alleys, each of them becoming a plaything...as the population died at the hands of the invaders."
The sack of Baghdad worried the Romans, not because they regretted the loss of life- they did not- but more the scale of the damage. Few could imagine such a catastrophe overturning a major Roman city like Antioch or Bethlehem, let alone Constantinople herself. In the face of the gathering Mongol storm, the Romans cast their memories back to the dark days prior to the Battle of Abydos, when a Mongolian army had easily swept past their defenses and rampaged through Anatolia. And that was just a raid. Imagine what a full scale invasion could do!
At Karakorum, the Great Khan Hulagu, and his successor Abaqa had similar emotions. In 1259, nervous Roman ambassadors had arrived at Karakorum seeking an extension of the peace, which Hulagu was happy to grant, but Aqaba was less inclined to be peaceful. In 1265, the by now elderly Isaac had tried to offer the Khan the hand of his illegitimate daughter Maria in marriage, but Abaqa turned down the proposal.Despite (or perhaps because of) the fact that he was a nominal Christian, Abaqa wanted control over the greatest and oldest state in the Christian world. By the time Constantine X came to the throne in 1269, the situation was rapidly spiraling out of control. Once again, the Mongols were marching on the Roman Empire. This time, they would not be repelled so easily.
ROMAN THEMATA AND DIOCESES AFTER THE REFORMS OF 1252AD
Excellent update, yet again. One thing I should point out is that prior to the system established by the Komnenids in the wake of the First Crusade, there was already quite a bit of social mobility in the Empire, more so than in most of Europe at the time. Consider the number of Emperors who rose from the lowest drags of society to the positions of supreme power: Basil I, Michael Calaphates (and Michael Paphlagonian), Romanus Lecapenus, and many others. The conversion to pretty much "aristocrats-only" rule did not occur until OTL Komnenids. So the situation might not have been as bad as you have described.
Also, I would foresee a Mongol attack against Kiev soon. This would potentially drag some of the defending legions north to defend Kiev, while another Mongol host attacks through weakened Anatolia. This would make somewhat of a tactical sense, given that the Mongols had little trouble with the climate and the terrain of Anatolia or Russia, regardless of a season.
Also, I would foresee a Mongol attack against Kiev soon. This would potentially drag some of the defending legions north to defend Kiev, while another Mongol host attacks through weakened Anatolia. This would make somewhat of a tactical sense, given that the Mongols had little trouble with the climate and the terrain of Anatolia or Russia, regardless of a season.
Basileus Giorgios I must start by saying how much I enjoy this timeline and congratulate you on your efforts. I do have some questions over the plausibility of your last post though.
While the direct election of a magistrate is not unbelievable, the notion that women will be able to vote needs to be explained in more depth. Just how such a fundamental change in society’s norms and social practice and thinking has taken place needs to be expanded. Also the term of the magistrate being so long needs explanation.
Presumably the idea that a civilian magistrate could be elected can be drawn from ancient tradition and sold to the more conservative elements as a reestablishment of traditional Roman practice. Yet a term of three years seems unlikely since all the magistracies of ancient Rome were of one year’s duration. No emperor, even a reform minded one, would want too much power concentrated into the hands of a popular figure so three years seems too long.
My main stumbling bloc in accepting this scenario is the role of women in the electorate. Byzantium was traditionally a conservative and misogynist society. This sudden liberation of women, even if only encompassing aristocrats, appears too much too soon. The long struggle of women to achieve the franchise in modern times is eloquent testimony to the unlikely event of an Eastern Emperor giving them the vote on a whim.
Another problem is just what the mechanics of the election will be. An individual secret ballot type of arrangement seems impossible at this time in this society. Will there be a series of Assemblies modelled on the ancient curia system with the winner being the one who gathers the most regions or a sort of super Assembly held in the capital of the theme? Will the Assemblies vote in tribes or in centuries? How will the enrolment in the Assemblies be conducted and what will be the basis of enrolment? Will it be by residence, place of birth, occupation or some other method? How will the wishes of the Army be heard? The legions cannot be disbanded so the soldiers can travel somewhere and vote nor can the legionaries be effectively disenfranchised, as this would be a recipe for revolt.
I look forward to your opinions and your solutions.
While the direct election of a magistrate is not unbelievable, the notion that women will be able to vote needs to be explained in more depth. Just how such a fundamental change in society’s norms and social practice and thinking has taken place needs to be expanded. Also the term of the magistrate being so long needs explanation.
Presumably the idea that a civilian magistrate could be elected can be drawn from ancient tradition and sold to the more conservative elements as a reestablishment of traditional Roman practice. Yet a term of three years seems unlikely since all the magistracies of ancient Rome were of one year’s duration. No emperor, even a reform minded one, would want too much power concentrated into the hands of a popular figure so three years seems too long.
My main stumbling bloc in accepting this scenario is the role of women in the electorate. Byzantium was traditionally a conservative and misogynist society. This sudden liberation of women, even if only encompassing aristocrats, appears too much too soon. The long struggle of women to achieve the franchise in modern times is eloquent testimony to the unlikely event of an Eastern Emperor giving them the vote on a whim.
Another problem is just what the mechanics of the election will be. An individual secret ballot type of arrangement seems impossible at this time in this society. Will there be a series of Assemblies modelled on the ancient curia system with the winner being the one who gathers the most regions or a sort of super Assembly held in the capital of the theme? Will the Assemblies vote in tribes or in centuries? How will the enrolment in the Assemblies be conducted and what will be the basis of enrolment? Will it be by residence, place of birth, occupation or some other method? How will the wishes of the Army be heard? The legions cannot be disbanded so the soldiers can travel somewhere and vote nor can the legionaries be effectively disenfranchised, as this would be a recipe for revolt.
I look forward to your opinions and your solutions.
Thanks for your thoughts! I will try to answer them one at a time.
The enfranchisement of some women is due to the strong and genuine love Isaac II felt for his wife Theodora, as the two of them ruled the empire together (much like Justinian and Theodora in OTL). Therefore Isaac has seen first hand that women are just as capable as men at running great empires. Also, many of the dreams that prompted him to make moves towards democracy featured the Virgin Mary, and if God could choose a woman to do important things, why shouldn't the Emperor do the same?
The three year term is my own invention, not wanting to have it at four years as in modern terms. See how the situation develops in the Demokratia for now, remember, the Emperor still retains near absolute power in the state, and if elected magistrates start getting too big for their boots, he can always cut down the amount of time in a term.
Elections take place in the capital of the Theme yes, on March 1st, meaning in practise not all enfranchised citizens can vote. The votes of a legion are taken slightly earlier, so they can be relaid to the centre of the theme. Citizens write the name of their chosen candidate on a piece of pottery, before throwing it into a deep well. The votes are then counted by monks and nuns, who are not enfranchised and therefore unlikely to be able to be bribed etc. By the end of the month, the candidates are summoned to the palace of the local Bishop, who informs them who is the winner of the election.
I hope this answers some of your questions!
This is the best TL I've seen on here yet.
I've got a question.
Could I maybe write some fiction for this TL, giving you full credit for it's creation of course, when it's a little further on?
I've got a question.
Could I maybe write some fiction for this TL, giving you full credit for it's creation of course, when it's a little further on?
That would be fantastic! Yes yes please do
Could you please personnal message it to me first though?
Thanks
That would be fantastic! Yes yes please do
Could you please personnal message it to me first though?
Thanks
Will do. Of course, knowing me, this could take a very long time...
Phew didn't drunkenly post a replie on here last night/this morning lol (was my Hall Formal)
Just going to say looks good keep it up.
With the destruction of Bagdad, is there anychance the Romans could grab a bit of there land? Or is that stretching them to thin . . . Also with the destruction of the Empire there (centred around Bagdad) is it possible a crusade might be launched to reclaim lands for christianity, or is Europe to weak from plague etc
Just going to say looks good keep it up.
With the destruction of Bagdad, is there anychance the Romans could grab a bit of there land? Or is that stretching them to thin . . . Also with the destruction of the Empire there (centred around Bagdad) is it possible a crusade might be launched to reclaim lands for christianity, or is Europe to weak from plague etc
Yes there is a chance... a good chance at that
But not for a while
And if anyone is concerned that the Muslims are being bashed about quite violently here, what with Romans in Palestine and Mongols in Mesopotamia, don't worry. A glorious new Golden Age of Islam is soon to begin... but more on that in a few chapters time...
But not for a while
And if anyone is concerned that the Muslims are being bashed about quite violently here, what with Romans in Palestine and Mongols in Mesopotamia, don't worry. A glorious new Golden Age of Islam is soon to begin... but more on that in a few chapters time...
Thanks for your thoughts on these matters. My response is below.
Just because the Emperor loved his wife and thought her competent to rule jointly with him is not enough to have the enfranchisement granted generally to women in the Empire. There is no way the emperor could get any significant support for this idea either from the aristocracy and most certainly not from the religious. The status of women throughout the empire would not permit this move either. It would be resisted by every section of society, including many women. The trouble it would stir up everywhere and the violence it would brew would be universal. You may as well have a female Patriarch.
Competent women do not translate to enfranchisement. Just consider Procopius’ attack on Theodora in the Secret History to see how women who appeared to be too powerful were viewed. Even the legitimacy of the rule of Irene was questioned simply because she was a female because constitutionally it was doubtful that any woman could assume the role of emperor. The arguments are essentially the same as the opposition to female priests today. The emperor was the first of the apostles and all the apostles were men. The emperor was head of the church and since he represented Jesus on earth the emperor was the bridegroom of the church which was a role impossible for a woman.
I think you need to consider more deeply the voting system you propose. It seems doubtful to me that any emperor would encourage a decentralisation of power that the local election of magistrates would set in motion. Your answer to my previous questions seems to indicate that the voters would be enrolled by residential qualifications and would vote in a secret ballot in the capital of each theme on a certain day. Notwithstanding my questioning the possibility of a secret ballot being adopted in a society like Byzantium, this system would disenfranchise the rural population who would be the majority. Merchants who were on trading journeys and landholders in remote areas would be very angry at this type of system.
Just consider the serious dislocation and tensions that happened in the time of the Gracchi in particular but at other points as well when the urban voters dominated the vote in Republican Rome. No emperor will institute a system that encourages disharmony. And how will the population of the City react when they discover they have been left out of the franchise!
Your answer suggests the legions will vote in the theme they are stationed in and their votes will be transferred to the capital to be counted along with the others. Allowing the army to vote for the civilian leadership is a system designed to produce tension and probably violence. Corruption in elections at a local level throughout the empire were commonplace and even expected. It was not even viewed as corruption in most instances when candidates for local posts held lavish public dinners or paid off debts of voters. How would the emperor react if a candidate started bribing the legionaries! How would the legionaries react if the emperor forbade them receiving the bribes! A terrible dilemma and one that is sure to end in trouble.
Thank you for your reply
Remember the voting system is, as yet, in early days, and many of the problems you mention would simply not have occurred to the rather idealistic Emperor Isaac II. Of course, the democracy will evolve over time, with some ideas being streamlined, and others abandoned altogether. If you would like to post a list of proposals I would be delighted to try and work them in later on in the timeline.
As for the enfranchisement of women, I tried to make clear that it is hardly a complete enfranchisement, as only the very richest and most distuingshed hold the right to vote, and possibly widows as well, as they would have inherited their husband's lands and therefore his right to vote. Probably 95% of the female population of the empire cannot vote at this stage.
I look forward to your thoughts
Remember the voting system is, as yet, in early days, and many of the problems you mention would simply not have occurred to the rather idealistic Emperor Isaac II. Of course, the democracy will evolve over time, with some ideas being streamlined, and others abandoned altogether. If you would like to post a list of proposals I would be delighted to try and work them in later on in the timeline.
As for the enfranchisement of women, I tried to make clear that it is hardly a complete enfranchisement, as only the very richest and most distuingshed hold the right to vote, and possibly widows as well, as they would have inherited their husband's lands and therefore his right to vote. Probably 95% of the female population of the empire cannot vote at this stage.
I look forward to your thoughts
Mini update here, concerning the first moves of Constantine X's alliance against the Mongol Hordes...
The Emperor Constantine X was not, to put it mildly, warrior material. Yet, over his reign, he exerted every possible effort to save the empire from a foe whose tenacity, violence, and tactical brilliance had not been seen since the days of the Caliphate at its height.
Constantine was, above all, a realist. He knew he was not a great warrior, and that, if push came to shove, faced with a full blown Mongolian invasion, with all the limitless resources that entailed, the empire would be unlikely to be able to pull off a decisive victory. And victory at all was distinctly unlikely.
So the Emperor decided on a bold idea. Embassies were sent to Egypt, Bulgaria, Galicia and Kiev, all (save Kiev), traditionally rivals and enemies of the empire. The Sultan of Egypt, admittedly, owed the Empire his throne, due to assistance in crushing a Mamluk revolt years before, while Bulgaria and the Russians could be expected to show support, for they were all Uniate Christians. The fact that Pope Gregory IX helpfully suggested the possibility of a Slavic Patriarch in exchange for assistance also helped. Nevertheless, in medieval times, such a diverse group of allies was unusual, and it gave the nervous Romans a much needed confidence boost.
To the east, the Great Khan Kublai was gathering an army so large, peasants said, that it took a week to pass. The exact size of the Great Khan’s army is still unknown, but it is estimated to have numbered around half a million. Upon reaching the northern tip of the Caspian, Kublai divided his forces. The general Mengu-Timur led half the army into Russia, while his rival and subordinate Nogai took the other half southwards. Their plan was simple, crush the Roman allies, then move in on the empire itself. It would be a brutally successful one.
The first engagement took place in April 1273, when Mengu-Timur met with a Kievan army under the command of the Grand Prince Lev I. The Russian army was formidable, made up of a hardy mixture of wild Viking heavy infantry, native Slavic regular troops, and heavy missile cavalry, descended from the Pechenegs, who had invaded Alexius’ Byzantium nearly two centuries before.
But the Mongols were even more formidably armed. Fifty years of rule over the Chinese had taught them some lessons in the art of warfare. It is speculated that this evolution in the Mongol war machine may have been prompted by their interaction with the Roman Empire, a state that had over a millennium copied the armies of its enemies and conquered peoples. Either way, the army commanded by Mengu-Timur was a formidable, and multi-ethnic, fighting force.
The two armies met at Belgorod, to the east of Kiev. Initially, Timur attempted to repeat the tactics that had won the Mongols their empire; wheeling horse archers breaking up an enemy army. Yet the Russians stood firm. Lev deployed his own horse archers, surprising the Mongolian cavalry, and driving them back. Seeking to press their advantage, the Russian cavalry charged forward towards a group of lightly armed Chinese auxiliaries, and were met by two entirely new, and entirely ferocious weapons.
From the Chinese ranks a hail of missiles suddenly blasted forward. The Russians were probably the first Europeans to encounter that deadly Chinese military invention; the repeating crossbow.
Compared to any other missile, the repeating crossbow was unmatched. Its most terrifying ability was to discharge missiles at rates of up to about two per second, against a target as far as 75 metres away. As the first bolts landed, pandemonium was instantly created in the Russian ranks. Horses dropped, dead or wounded, and the others fled in terror from this awful weapon. Yet, once out of range, the Russians imagined themselves to be safe. They had no idea about the next and even more deadly weapon in the Mongol arsenal.
Slowly, the Chinese began to approach the stationary Russian lines. From out of their ranks, men appeared, wheeling long, hollow steel tubes. Curiously, the Russians observed the frantic activity around the tubes, as the enemy loaded small lead balls into them. They can have had no idea of what would happen next.
Thunder rang out over the steppes. All across the Russian front line, men were buckling, lumps of lead smashing their skulls or ribs. Desperately, Lev’s discipline now finally broke. The Russians charged towards the Chinese lines, Viking warriors lifting their mighty battleaxes against the hapless Chinese. Yet, as they approached, the ground below them suddenly exploded. The ever ingenious Chinese armies had planted landmines in front of their lines. The Russian army was utterly broken. As they fled in any direction they could, the Mongol horsemen swept down from all sides, massacring the fleeing enemy. The defeat of Kiev was utter and humiliating. Mengu-Timur marched on Kiev, ignoring the pleas of Russian ambassadors to turn back. The city was stormed, and razed, its fine churches smashed, its wooden houses burned. Women were raped, men murdered. The greatest city of Russia was left a smoking ruin. As soon as the news reached Galicia, the craven state surrendered rather than risk facing the Mongol terror. On the western front, only the Bulgarians remained loyal to Constantine. And in the east, the situation was very little better.
The Emperor Constantine X was not, to put it mildly, warrior material. Yet, over his reign, he exerted every possible effort to save the empire from a foe whose tenacity, violence, and tactical brilliance had not been seen since the days of the Caliphate at its height.
Constantine was, above all, a realist. He knew he was not a great warrior, and that, if push came to shove, faced with a full blown Mongolian invasion, with all the limitless resources that entailed, the empire would be unlikely to be able to pull off a decisive victory. And victory at all was distinctly unlikely.
So the Emperor decided on a bold idea. Embassies were sent to Egypt, Bulgaria, Galicia and Kiev, all (save Kiev), traditionally rivals and enemies of the empire. The Sultan of Egypt, admittedly, owed the Empire his throne, due to assistance in crushing a Mamluk revolt years before, while Bulgaria and the Russians could be expected to show support, for they were all Uniate Christians. The fact that Pope Gregory IX helpfully suggested the possibility of a Slavic Patriarch in exchange for assistance also helped. Nevertheless, in medieval times, such a diverse group of allies was unusual, and it gave the nervous Romans a much needed confidence boost.
To the east, the Great Khan Kublai was gathering an army so large, peasants said, that it took a week to pass. The exact size of the Great Khan’s army is still unknown, but it is estimated to have numbered around half a million. Upon reaching the northern tip of the Caspian, Kublai divided his forces. The general Mengu-Timur led half the army into Russia, while his rival and subordinate Nogai took the other half southwards. Their plan was simple, crush the Roman allies, then move in on the empire itself. It would be a brutally successful one.
The first engagement took place in April 1273, when Mengu-Timur met with a Kievan army under the command of the Grand Prince Lev I. The Russian army was formidable, made up of a hardy mixture of wild Viking heavy infantry, native Slavic regular troops, and heavy missile cavalry, descended from the Pechenegs, who had invaded Alexius’ Byzantium nearly two centuries before.
But the Mongols were even more formidably armed. Fifty years of rule over the Chinese had taught them some lessons in the art of warfare. It is speculated that this evolution in the Mongol war machine may have been prompted by their interaction with the Roman Empire, a state that had over a millennium copied the armies of its enemies and conquered peoples. Either way, the army commanded by Mengu-Timur was a formidable, and multi-ethnic, fighting force.
The two armies met at Belgorod, to the east of Kiev. Initially, Timur attempted to repeat the tactics that had won the Mongols their empire; wheeling horse archers breaking up an enemy army. Yet the Russians stood firm. Lev deployed his own horse archers, surprising the Mongolian cavalry, and driving them back. Seeking to press their advantage, the Russian cavalry charged forward towards a group of lightly armed Chinese auxiliaries, and were met by two entirely new, and entirely ferocious weapons.
From the Chinese ranks a hail of missiles suddenly blasted forward. The Russians were probably the first Europeans to encounter that deadly Chinese military invention; the repeating crossbow.
Compared to any other missile, the repeating crossbow was unmatched. Its most terrifying ability was to discharge missiles at rates of up to about two per second, against a target as far as 75 metres away. As the first bolts landed, pandemonium was instantly created in the Russian ranks. Horses dropped, dead or wounded, and the others fled in terror from this awful weapon. Yet, once out of range, the Russians imagined themselves to be safe. They had no idea about the next and even more deadly weapon in the Mongol arsenal.
Slowly, the Chinese began to approach the stationary Russian lines. From out of their ranks, men appeared, wheeling long, hollow steel tubes. Curiously, the Russians observed the frantic activity around the tubes, as the enemy loaded small lead balls into them. They can have had no idea of what would happen next.
Thunder rang out over the steppes. All across the Russian front line, men were buckling, lumps of lead smashing their skulls or ribs. Desperately, Lev’s discipline now finally broke. The Russians charged towards the Chinese lines, Viking warriors lifting their mighty battleaxes against the hapless Chinese. Yet, as they approached, the ground below them suddenly exploded. The ever ingenious Chinese armies had planted landmines in front of their lines. The Russian army was utterly broken. As they fled in any direction they could, the Mongol horsemen swept down from all sides, massacring the fleeing enemy. The defeat of Kiev was utter and humiliating. Mengu-Timur marched on Kiev, ignoring the pleas of Russian ambassadors to turn back. The city was stormed, and razed, its fine churches smashed, its wooden houses burned. Women were raped, men murdered. The greatest city of Russia was left a smoking ruin. As soon as the news reached Galicia, the craven state surrendered rather than risk facing the Mongol terror. On the western front, only the Bulgarians remained loyal to Constantine. And in the east, the situation was very little better.
Oh dear, not losing interest are we? Or maybe just not commenting, who knows.
Another short update. The next one should be nice and large, don't worry.
Nogai had advanced south from the remnants of Baghdad in December 1272, and by March, after a dangerous and gruelling trip through the deserts, finally arrived, already bloodied, at Jerusalem. Here, he was confronted by full armed might of the Ayyubid Sultan Al Adil III. Being a Mongol, Nogai took it upon himself to demolish this army. Though, as far as we can tell, his armies did not include any frightening Chinese gunpowder weapons, but dispatched the Sultan with the same contemptuous ease as their fellows to the north.
The way into Egypt was now open. Ignoring the Holy City, the Mongols turned their attention to a far more glittering prize, Cairo; the greatest city of Islam. Like Baghdad and Kiev and countless others, Cairo was destroyed. On its ruins his established his own city, which the Romans would later called Hunnopolis. This done, the “Huns” settled down in the land of the Pharaohs. Spies were sent north into Byzantium. Apparently, the northern branch of the expedition had been a total success. Mengu-Timur was at the Danube, and the terrified Bulgarians were desperately trying to block his entrance into their lands.
News travelled slowly in the medieval world, and in all likelihood, by time the news reached Nogai, Mengu-Timur was already ravaging Bulgaria. The Bulgars, realising it was impossible to defeat the Mongols in pitched battle retreated into the mountains, emerging periodically to launch brief, savage attacks against the enemy. As a strategy it was not entirely useless, and the Mongolians were forced to take heavy precautions to avoid being ambushed and massacred by their tenacious foes, greatly slowing their advance southwards. Meanwhile, more and more Bulgarian soldiers and citizens had slowly been trickling southward into the Roman Empire. By early autumn, Thessalonica was thronged with immigrants, desperately seeking safe passage and a new life on the Greek Isles, protected by the fearsome Imperial navy.
Mengu-Timur had initially planned to push straight on to Constantinople, but upon hearing about the situation in Thessalonica, decided to divert his attention there. The second city of the empire was also extremely rich and prestigious; destroying it would deliver a heavy blow to Roman morale. Descending from the hills, the Mongols saw the crammed city below them. Without any warning they struck.
Desperately, the ragtag band of two legions, Thessalonian citizens, and Bulgarian warriors tried to stem the Mongols. True, the fearsome invaders suffered heavy casualties as they threw themselves at the great city’s ramparts. But in the end, the outcome was inevitable. By the end of October, the Imperial navy had arrived, in an attempt to rescue the citizenry. Women and children were evacuated to Crete and Mytilene en masse, while men survived as best they could. Early in November, 1273AD, Thessalonica fell to the Mongols. Its legionary defenders were crucified in a brutal parody of Jesus himself, the other citizens were sewn into sacks and dropped into the sea. Churches were torn down and ransacked for their gold and jewels, and abandoned homes were eagerly combed for treasure. A few weeks after the fakk, one of the largest cities of Europe no longer existed.
Mengu-Timur now sent word to Nogai; to move north and harass Roman positions in Palestine and Anatolia, while he moved on the ultimate prize, Constantinople herself. Never in her history had the Roman Empire appeared more defenceless. Her allies crushed, her second city demolished, her armies scattered, Constantinople alone now stood as the empire’s last hope. History stood on a razor blade.
Another short update. The next one should be nice and large, don't worry.
Nogai had advanced south from the remnants of Baghdad in December 1272, and by March, after a dangerous and gruelling trip through the deserts, finally arrived, already bloodied, at Jerusalem. Here, he was confronted by full armed might of the Ayyubid Sultan Al Adil III. Being a Mongol, Nogai took it upon himself to demolish this army. Though, as far as we can tell, his armies did not include any frightening Chinese gunpowder weapons, but dispatched the Sultan with the same contemptuous ease as their fellows to the north.
The way into Egypt was now open. Ignoring the Holy City, the Mongols turned their attention to a far more glittering prize, Cairo; the greatest city of Islam. Like Baghdad and Kiev and countless others, Cairo was destroyed. On its ruins his established his own city, which the Romans would later called Hunnopolis. This done, the “Huns” settled down in the land of the Pharaohs. Spies were sent north into Byzantium. Apparently, the northern branch of the expedition had been a total success. Mengu-Timur was at the Danube, and the terrified Bulgarians were desperately trying to block his entrance into their lands.
News travelled slowly in the medieval world, and in all likelihood, by time the news reached Nogai, Mengu-Timur was already ravaging Bulgaria. The Bulgars, realising it was impossible to defeat the Mongols in pitched battle retreated into the mountains, emerging periodically to launch brief, savage attacks against the enemy. As a strategy it was not entirely useless, and the Mongolians were forced to take heavy precautions to avoid being ambushed and massacred by their tenacious foes, greatly slowing their advance southwards. Meanwhile, more and more Bulgarian soldiers and citizens had slowly been trickling southward into the Roman Empire. By early autumn, Thessalonica was thronged with immigrants, desperately seeking safe passage and a new life on the Greek Isles, protected by the fearsome Imperial navy.
Mengu-Timur had initially planned to push straight on to Constantinople, but upon hearing about the situation in Thessalonica, decided to divert his attention there. The second city of the empire was also extremely rich and prestigious; destroying it would deliver a heavy blow to Roman morale. Descending from the hills, the Mongols saw the crammed city below them. Without any warning they struck.
Desperately, the ragtag band of two legions, Thessalonian citizens, and Bulgarian warriors tried to stem the Mongols. True, the fearsome invaders suffered heavy casualties as they threw themselves at the great city’s ramparts. But in the end, the outcome was inevitable. By the end of October, the Imperial navy had arrived, in an attempt to rescue the citizenry. Women and children were evacuated to Crete and Mytilene en masse, while men survived as best they could. Early in November, 1273AD, Thessalonica fell to the Mongols. Its legionary defenders were crucified in a brutal parody of Jesus himself, the other citizens were sewn into sacks and dropped into the sea. Churches were torn down and ransacked for their gold and jewels, and abandoned homes were eagerly combed for treasure. A few weeks after the fakk, one of the largest cities of Europe no longer existed.
Mengu-Timur now sent word to Nogai; to move north and harass Roman positions in Palestine and Anatolia, while he moved on the ultimate prize, Constantinople herself. Never in her history had the Roman Empire appeared more defenceless. Her allies crushed, her second city demolished, her armies scattered, Constantinople alone now stood as the empire’s last hope. History stood on a razor blade.