Download PDF | J. Eric Cooper, Michael J. Decker (auth.) - Life and Society in Byzantine Cappadocia-Palgrave Macmillan UK (2012).
348 Pages
Acknowledgements
This book is in part a continuation of my (J. E. Cooper) doctoral dissertation done at Oxford University. As such, I have acquired a debt of gratitude and thanks to many people, only some of whom can be named here. I should like to thank my supervisor Dr Marlia Mango and also Dr James Howard-Johnston. Their scholarship and insights were always appreciated — as was their help. Discussions with Mr David Barchard and Dr Michael Ballance, as well as communications with Dr Robert Ousterhout, Dr John Nesbitt, Professor Werner Seibt, and the late professor Nicolas Oikonomides always expanded my understanding.
And for a variety of assistance as well as dearly valued camaraderie, I thank Matt Jennings, Neil McIntosh, Steve Kersley, Brian Wright, David Olds, and Marc Argent.
Michael Decker wishes to thank Drs Marlia Mango, Elizabeth Jeffreys, Michael Maas, David Cook, Robert Hoyland, Sean Kingsley, Andrew Wilson, John Belohlavek, and William Cummings, for their mentorship and friendship. I wish to especially thank my wife Katy for her support and patience during the completion of this work.
The authors and publishers wish to thank the following for permission to reproduce copyright material: Ms Marlee Drake, for her illustration of a rock-cut facade used as Figure 6.6, and to Ms Genevieve Rheault for the two plans of Saray at Erdemli used as Figures 6.4 and 6.5. Every effort has been made to trace rights holders, but if any have been inadvertently overlooked, the publishers would be pleased to make the necessary arrangements at the first opportunity.
Introduction
Cappadocia was, to borrow a phrase of one scholar, the periphery in the centre.! Considered rude and marginal by the urban elites who constructed late antique and medieval culture, and in turn generally ignored in literature then and now, Cappadocia produced as many as seven emperors and its clans dominated political life for a century at the apogee of Byzantine power. Despite its central role in Byzantine history, to date no scholarly work explores the history of Cappadocia during this period. This book attempts to help fill this notable void in late antique and Byzantine studies through an examination of the material remains and written sources which in turn inform our analysis of aspects of the economic, ecclesiastical, and elite underpinnings of Cappadocian life. To tell this tale would obviously be easier (and it would be fuller in the telling) with more evidence from texts and more work done on the ground. But scholarship is slowly making progress and permits a preliminary study like ours. Given the state of the evidence, ours is a beginning step and certainly not intended to be the last word. We are certain, as generations of unflagging academics have proved, that generous readers and reviewers will sound the claxon and alert us to the numerous shortcomings of the work.
Our sources permit focus predominantly on elites — in short, those who have access to substantial social power to a greater degree and more often than the vast majority of the population (on this see Chapters 6 and 7).? We use textual and material evidence throughout and, where possible, we have drawn on these data to cast light on slivers of the existence of the powerless, but these are quite limited and made difficult in the extreme due to the state of the sources. In the end, however, we hope to offer a balanced view into aspects of major portions of society in Byzantine Cappadocia, what the Byzantines themselves categorised as the three distinct classes, and what is commonly known in the post-Duby world of the medieval West as those who work, those who pray, and those who fight. The first chapter serves as a general backdrop and covers basic geography of the region, settlement types, history of major centres, and population.
The next two chapters address land use in terms of agriculture and industry (Chapter 2) and animal rearing (Chapter 3). Long-standing views about the region’s lack of fertility, desolation, and poverty are challenged. Part II comprises Chapters 4 and 5 and explores religious life, respectively discussing monasticism — for which the region is famous — and the church. Cappadocian religiosity is brought into context of both the material culture and written sources, and the singularly monastic habitation so commonly accepted is confronted. Part III consists of the last two chapters (Chapters 6 and 7), which delve into the elite, first examining them in view of the region and finally bringing them into context of the wider empire. Their daily lives, how they perceived and portrayed themselves, how they lived, and their interaction locally and on a wider stage are explored.
Discussion is limited to Late Antiquity through the Battle of Mantzikert, the serious defeat of the Byzantine emperor Romanos IV in 1071 at the hands of the Seljuk Turks, after which Cappadocia was lost to the Byzantine state. In other words, this book is about aspects of Cappadocian life as evidenced by physical and written material from ca the fourth through ca the eleventh centuries AD. Though we do hopefully add to debates about centre-periphery and powerful and poor in some small way, these are not our focus.? Covering such breadth in time, especially in view of space limitations, has naturally resulted in sacrifices. Exploration of the potentially beneficial financial ramifications for the elite resulting in the formation of the imperial estates (kouratoria and episkepseis) in the tenth century and deeper investigation into the nature of the post-stations (mansiones/stathmoi) are but two examples of many issues, large and small, that require further work. Archaeological surveys along the frontier borders, full study of the fortresses dotting the land, and a variety of other endeavours are largely undone.
Before we can start the journey into Cappadocia’s past, however, a few words are warranted regarding the nature of the available evidence and some of the challenges posed.
Evidence: the written sources
Literary sources produced in Cappadocia are rare and especially so after the fourth century, when we have the work of the Cappadocian Fathers, Basil of Caesarea, Gregory Nazianzos, and Gregory of Nyssa to provide precious insights into life there. Afterwards, our sources are more generalised to the empire as a whole and though there are a few texts written by Cappadocians in the Middle Byzantine era, these often provide only glimpses of social conditions. The fate of ordinary people is almost completely absent from most sources.
The written sources for Cappadocia occasionally mention people, places, or events within the region, but rarely provide prolonged discussion. We are thus forced to comb through the many histories, saints’ Lives, and so forth to glean what we can. So too for the legal documents, wills, strategic manuals, lists of precedence, and so forth. We are able to expand upon what the Byzantines wrote by examining other contemporary, earlier and later written documents, particularly Arabic and Syriac sources. But despite this seemingly abundant source material, the fact is that the picture is all too often incomplete. Specific details are left unmentioned; specifically described sites unlocalised. Even sources that should give an accurate picture on issues related to Cappadocia may not be as entirely trustworthy as one might expect.
A handful of Arabic texts do provide notices of conflict in the region or provide useful nuggets of information about Byzantine Cappadocia. We have utilised many of these, particularly in discussion of the political situation along the frontiers of the Dark Ages and Middle Byzantine era.
Evidence: archaeological
Much more abundant than the textual evidence is that from material sources. Archaeological evidence poses its own set of issues, depending on what kind of material it is. Archaeologists generally rely heavily on ceramic studies and to a lesser degree on numismatics (coins). But Byzantine Cappadocia is effectively aceramic in terms of publication; the vast majority of Byzantine ceramic finds are unprovenanced, untested, out of context, unrecognised, or a combination thereof. One also wonders if various finds simply were not published. One result for Cappadocian assemblages is that there are no pottery sequences for either coarse-wares or fine-wares. Such a gap in knowledge means that there is no opportunity to develop a deeper understanding of occupational sequences and settlement patterns. Nor do we possess the valuable insights so successfully achieved elsewhere through careful pottery analysis, such as that by Hayes at Sarachane, illuminating local, regional and long-distance exchange.* The lack of a clearly defined pottery sequence thus particularly impacts two areas of our discussion: site analysis (including settlements and individual complexes), and economic frameworks.* Until systematic ceramic chronologies are worked out that build on the work of scholars like Vroom and Armstrong and utilise excavated material and intensive survey rather than large-scale regional and site-based recording, we will lack a nuanced picture of settlement and economic life in Byzantine Anatolia.°
Similar remarks can be made regarding the lack of coin finds associated with Cappadocian sites. Certainly, as in the case for pottery, part of the apparent scarcity of finds owes to the relatively few excavations conducted in the region, and easily accessible sites typically have been scoured clean over the centuries. However, coins are also inherently valuable and can be sold or recycled, which further render them rare. Moreover, a great majority of the Byzantine coins allegedly found in rock-cut sites, particularly in subterranean cities, either have been lost or improperly recorded. Most coins from Byzantine Cappadocia have no firm archaeological context. Due to their lack of contextualisation, the data provided by these finds, while valuable, are often less instructive than one could hope. The Cappadocian numismatic material is anonymous and too scant to offer meaningful information; it thus is excluded largely from discussion.
In fact there are very few items of any kind from the period that have been properly recorded and reported for archaeological purposes in Cappadocia. Take for example the scant Byzantine material presented in publications from Tyana, Melitene, and Topakli, the focus of which is upon earlier periods or, if they do include Byzantine material, do not publish full ceramic data and other crucial chronological indicators.’ The work of Ousterhout at Canli Kilise and Rosada and Lachin in Tyana are examples of a new generation of work that offers more advanced methodologies and scientific rigour upon which future studies can build.®
Built and rock-cut sites
Cappadocia as a whole is poorly explored in terms of Byzantine remains, whereas neighbouring regions such as Galatia, Paphlagonia, and the Konya Plain have been investigated archaeologically, most notably in the form of survey, to a relatively high degree and have provided significant data and insight about Byzantine settlements in their respective areas.”
The most thorough archaeological treatment of Byzantine Cappadocia remains the second volume of the Tabula Imperii Byzantini series, by H. Hild and M. Restle, which lists hundreds of sites within Cappadocia.! The information provided is from the written sources, scholarly articles, archaeological reports, and some personal visitation by the authors. Yet the vast majority of the region remains uncovered. The result is that smaller Byzantine villages and other such sites that have escaped mention in the written sources remain unknown to us. Despite this shortfall, the work is invaluable for the information that it does convey, but with more limited usefulness for assessing types of settlement, settlement density and land use."
Adding in varying degrees to the data are surveys of more limited scope, such as the work conducted by D’Alfonso north of Tyana.!* However, the overwhelming majority of archaeological investigations that have been conducted within the region are confined generally to Rocky Cappadocia (roughly defined as the south-central region, whose limits are Aksaray on the west, the Caesarea-Tyana road on the east and Nigde to the south), primarily because of the substantial amount of extant architectural remains.The thematic survey project by the Societa Speleologica Italiana, which investigated numerous rock-cut sites, including settlements and hydrogeological engineering, is still the largest survey of its kind.!? Recent work by Ousterhout, Equini Schneider, and Kalas has provided further insight regarding Byzantine settlement and domestic architecture.'* Despite such efforts, more surveys and fresh sites excavated using modern techniques are needed to ameliorate dark gaps in our vision.
How are Cappadocian sites dated? There are very few extant Byzantine built structures, and it is impractical — if not impossible - to excavate extensively and consistently in modern urban sites to unearth more. And even though archaeometrical testing, for example carbondating, and stratigraphic sequencing, are essentially nonexistent, it sometimes is possible to compare the building style and other architectural elements with examples outside Cappadocia.
In contrast, numerous rock-cut sites dot the landscape of Rocky Cappadocia, but the great majority of these sites lack architectural features that are diagnostic for dating. A plainly excavated cavity is anonymous and could date back millennia just as easily as decades. Since the written sources provide no aid in identifying or dating specific structures encountered in Cappadocia, the material record becomes the only source of data. An underlying premise employed for dating anonymous rock-cut structures is occupational persistence. In other words, it is important that a structure or system was occupied during the period under examination; not who initially excavated it. Items such as graves can be telling, as can certain architectural features. The most obvious indicator of Byzantine-inhabited rock-cut structures is the church, and by extension those structures associated with it. In such cases, attributions are given to the chronological range of occupation or use and not to initial formation. But such low resolution of chronology (attributions spanning multiple centuries) is unsatisfying and often insufficient for the needs at hand. However, interior features such as chancel screens and painted decoration can be useful in narrowing down a date. And more generally, when dating churches and non-ecclesiastical structures, features such as floor plans, facades, and particular carved decorative motifs sometimes can be used, although typically with still less precision than desired. Better dating results often occur in the presence of painted decoration and inscriptions, which are discussed in-text.
Seals and sigillography
Byzantine sigillography (the study of Byzantine document seals) remains both art and science. Certainly, the poorer the condition of the seal, the more dating and interpreting that seal become an art.'§ Yet the study of Cappadocia is aided by the sigillographic evidence in several ways. Most obviously, we gain knowledge of many civil, military, and church officials who are otherwise unmentioned in the sources. We also can expand knowledge about certain aspects such as family dynasties in the region or notable areas of interest to the government like taxation and resource extraction. Sometimes indications about when the Byzantine administrative districts did or did not change are also revealed. Vexingly, however, we do not have any seals properly recorded from a site within Cappadocia. All of the known seals representing people or offices within the region were found outside of it, with the vast majority of Cappadocian seals found in and around the former imperial capital Constantinople.
And while we know that seals were often kept in archives — evidence of such archives is found also at Mt Athos, Preslav, Cherson, Caesarea Maritima, and probably Carthage and Trebizond — we do not know the nature of the archives or why these seals were retained (with their respective documents). We can say, however, that archives typically received a variety of material but did not keep everything, and in the case of the Cappadocian sigillographic corpus the vast majority of material retained was from higher-level officials, whether they be civil, military or religious. This is not at all surprising since the Cappadocian seals essentially were found at the imperial capital, but the result is that we have basically no indication from the seals of the more middle and junior ranks that were certainly active in the region.'®
Indeed, looking at the entire corpus of Cappadocian seals strongly suggests that the record is far from complete. In terms of general numbers, the provinces and themes from the region show notably fewer seals than many others; this is particularly evident for the theme of Kappadokia. Chronology also appears clustered, for example there are precious few seals spanning the seventh through ninth centuries and a relative explosion of them for the eleventh. So, too, for offices, some of which are entirely missing from the region or represented by only one or two. In the case of the chrysoteles, a cash-based tax official, the paucity may reflect the low level of monetisation of Cappadocia. Nevertheless, only three seals represent the office for the entire region: one from Koloneia and two from Charsianon.!”
Since archives were maintained at churches, monasteries, and civil and military centres, we can hope that an archive will one day be found in Cappadocia. Perhaps more likely are smaller or single finds at various sites, which would still be useful. Provincial sites and archives may have contained a substantially larger portion of middle-ranking seals than those in Constantinople, and thereby help fill the gap.'® While such finds remain a desideratum, and despite the shortfalls mentioned, seals nevertheless remain an important, and often underused, category of evidence.
Style, Cappadocia vs Kappadokia, references, and illustrations
Throughout the work we have generally referenced primary sources in notes. In some instances where major sources are frequently raised, we have opted to place references in-text so as to reduce the number of notes. In Greek transliteration we have usually followed the Oxford Dictionary of Byzantium. In transcribing Greek and Arabic we have elected to use a simple system that eliminates macrons and complex script. It should be noted that we use the term ‘Cappadocia’ to designate the region and ‘Kappadokia’ to refer to the theme; any exceptions to this should be clear in the text. Finally, due to the limitations of space, we have kept our illustrations to the minimum. To produce more would not have been practical in a volume of this nature. We have also tried to keep our citations and notes limited. All dates, unless otherwise specified, are AD.
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