4

The Political and Ideological Context of the Epitome

4.1 The Political Context: Kaiserkritik

The section of the Epitome dedicated to Roman and Byzantine history has strong political leanings. Elements of Kaiserkritik, namely the critique of a ruler or a ruling dynasty, which could be expressed in the form of subtly disapproving remarks or more blatant accusations,¹ are prominent in Zonaras’ narrative. Scholarly discussions that touch upon Zonaras’ political and social ideas are closely linked with the presentation of the Komnenian regime under Alexios Komnenos.² Laying emphasis on Zonaras’ critical attitude towards Alexios’ kingship is reasonable to some extent, since the narrative dedicated to the Komnenian era relates to the author’s own experiences as a judicial official and can be read as an account counterbalancing Anna Komnene’s Alexiad, the major historical source for the reign of Alexios.³

The rights and public responsibilities of the sovereign in Byzantium are themes that are addressed and investigated in texts of different genres, from legal collections and ‘mirrors for princes’ (an admonitory type of text which offers rulers advice on leadership) to histories and works of court oratory. For authors of historical accounts, it was quite common to criticize policies pursued by past emperors as well as to evaluate whether the reigning emperor was efficient or inefficient in managing government affairs. Franz Tinnefeld’s seminal study of Kaiserkritik has shed light on the various ways in which historians and chroniclers from the sixth to the twelfth centuries conceived the notion of the abuse of imperial power.⁴ To provide an indicative example, John Skylitzes disapproves of the well-known ‘ἀλληλέγγυον’ of Basil II, characterizing it as an unreasonable burden on the wealthy class.⁵ He also accuses Michael IV the Paphlagonian of wasting state wealth on ‘what were supposed to be his good works’ (‘τὰς δοκούσας εὐποιΐας ἀποπληρῶν’), by which the emperor hoped to earn divine forgiveness for the sins he had committed to ascend to the throne.⁶ The empresses Zoe and Theodora are criticized by Michael Psellos for spending the wealth that had been accumulated by Basil II on frivolities,⁷ and Constantine IX Monomachos (r. 1042–1055) for, among other things, spending public money on his mistresses.⁸ Michael Attaleiates comments that contemporary emperors break the law and act in a hideous way, using as the pretext that they are acting in the public good.⁹

Members specifically of the Komnenian family became targets of attack by authors of the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries. Like Zonaras, the patriarch of Antioch John Oxeites was a severe critic of Alexios Komnenos.¹⁰ In an oration delivered in 1091 in the presence of the emperor himself, the patriarch expressed a series of concerns about the decline of the Εmpire under Alexios.¹¹ He accused the emperor of unacceptable taxation, of seizing the properties of the Church and of favouring his relatives, a clan which, in his view, greatly damaged the imperial office and the people. In his account of the sack of Thessalonike by the Normans in 1185, Eustathios, the metropolitan of the city, depicts the emperor Andronikos I Komnenos (r. 1183–1185) in a negative light, condemning him for brutally executing all those he believed harboured ambitions of becoming emperors.¹² Similarly, David Komnenos, the governor of Thessalonike during the capture of the city, is characterized by Eustathios as a traitor for neglecting the common good and caring only for his own well-being.¹³ In an epistle to Theodore I Laskaris (r. 1205–1221), the first emperor of Nicaea, Michael Choniates, Niketas’ brother, hints at the Komnenoi when he indicates that former Byzantine rulers, who took over the reins of the state by means of a huge army, an extensive network of relatives, and hidden resources, achieved nothing significant.¹⁴

Leaving aside Zonaras, the most concrete criticism of the mismanagement of the Empire by the Komnenian emperors was made by Niketas Choniates, whose historical narrative covers the period from 1118, the year of Alexios Komnenos’ death, to c.1206, during the aftermath of the conquest of Constantinople by the Crusaders. Niketas makes a harsh assessment of the policies followed by Manuel Komnenos in particular. In an illuminating article dedicated to the Kaiserkritik of twelfth-century writers, Paul Magdalino has underlined that Manuel’s systematic practice of surpassing the limits of his constitutional role lies at the centre of Niketas’ critique.¹⁵ Niketas castigates the emperor for regarding his subjects as servants instead of free men, eliminating prominent citizens, and exploiting state properties as if they were his own.¹⁶ The fierce opposition expressed by Niketas to Manuel’s methods offers an insight into the author’s reflections on the constitution of emperorship. This aspect of his critique, however, does not involve questioning the monarchy itself, but addressing the functions and limitations of imperial authority.¹⁷ As will be seen, Zonaras’ Kaiserkritik has a constitutional character in much the same sense as Choniates’; Zonaras’ critique reflects his thoughts on the mechanisms of imperial administration, rather than his alleged disapproval of the institution of monarchy in itself.¹⁸

The following quotation, certainly one of the most famous extracts from the entire Epitome, encapsulates the essence of Zonaras’ critique of Alexios Komnenos: ‘he treated state affairs neither as common, nor as public and regarded himself not as their administrator, but as their master’ (‘τοῖς πράγμασιν οὐχ ὡς κοινοῖς οὐδ’ ὡς δημοσίοις ἐκέχρητο καὶ ἑαυτὸν οὐκ οἰκονόμον ἥγητο τούτων, ἀλλὰ δεσπότην’).¹⁹ Readers are confronted here with the image of an authoritarian ruler who governed the Byzantine state as if he were managing his own private property. At the core of Zonaras’ disapproval of the emperor lies Alexios’ policy of granting great privileges to his relatives and their followers.²⁰ Alexios appointed members of his family and those who served them to the highest offices. He also offered them so much wealth that they lived as if they were emperors themselves. Alexios, however, was not equally generous to other members of the aristocracy, which shows the emperor to be an unjust leader, one who did not discriminate according to merit.²¹ A direct and very serious consequence of Alexios’ practice of providing members of his family with extensive wealth was that ‘the imperial treasury, or rather the common vault, was impoverished’ (‘τὸ βασιλικὸν ταμεῖον ἢ τὸ κοινὸν πρυτανεῖον ἐστένωτο’).²² The writer purposely underlines that the emperor spent public funds on achieving his own private goals. Alexios is thus viewed as a ruler who made bad use of the money that belonged to the state. The chronicler further accuses the Komnenian emperor of mistreating the civilian nobility and aiming at weakening specifically the aristocratic class of his time. He protests that Alexios cut the annual instalments which had always been given to those of high rank, deprived senators of their properties (breaking thus a centuries-old tradition)²³ and humiliated them.²⁴ The fact that the emperor did not preserve the traditional customs of the Roman polity is one of Zonaras’ main charges against him.²⁵ Alexios’ policy of allocating offices and honours to those closest to him, instead of granting those privileges according to merit, is understood by Zonaras to be a corruption of the Roman political tradition, which should be preserved intact. The same must be true of Zonaras’ accusation that the members of the senatorial class saw their social status diminished during Alexios’ regime. A final source of grievance for Zonaras is that the emperor invented abominable ways of collecting money. Alexios is accused of inventing new taxes,²⁶ making his subjects pay non-existent debts and stripping people who did not owe anything to the state of their belongings.²⁷

There can be no doubt that the author is opposed to Alexios’ individual model of governance; he makes a direct attack on the political and fiscal reforms of the founder of the Komnenian dynasty. Placing relatives and supporters in key positions in the political and military administration was a policy implemented to a great extent by the Komnenian emperors in general, and was a distinctive feature of their style of rulership.²⁸ By extension, therefore, Zonaras’ critical account of Alexios could be read as an outward rejection of the Komnenian system of government as a whole. It is also very much in line with the critique levelled against the family of the Komnenoi by John Oxeites, Niketas, and Michael Choniates.

I would also suggest that the author’s severe criticism of Alexios can be understood as a response to the rhetoric exalting the emperor which was prominent during the regime of his descendants. Both John II Komnenos and Manuel Komnenos sought to keep Alexios’ memory alive, publicly extolling his greatness and heroism.²⁹ They deliberately tried to identify themselves with the founder of their dynasty as a means of reinforcing the legitimacy of their claim to the throne.³⁰ At the same time, they would advertise themselves as being the only ones of his heirs capable of exceeding Alexios’ remarkable accomplishments. Examples of such propaganda include, for instance, the Mousai, an admonitory poem which is attributed to Alexios containing advice to his firstborn son,³¹ as well as the encomiastic verses of the court poet Manganeios Prodromos, who praised Manuel for emulating and even surpassing the deeds of his father and grandfather.³² The Alexiad is the result of Anna’s own effort to perpetuate her father’s memory and is a reaction to the comparisons made between Alexios and his descendants.³³ The chronicler’s portrayal of Alexios should be seen against this background of imperial panegyric. Raising his objections to the emperor’s style of rulership, Zonaras attempts to set the record straight and restore the truth about some aspects of Alexios’ management of the state. This does not mean that his presentation of the Komenian regime was meant to be an answer specifically to Anna Komnene, whose work might have been known to Zonaras.³⁴ The chronicler himself reveals that the intention behind his focusing on aspects of the emperor’s personality was to ‘make his character manifest to those that will live afterwards and indicate his disposition to later generations’ (‘τὸν τρόπον ἐκείνου δῆλον θείημεν τοῖς μετέπειτα καὶ τὸ ἦθος τοῖς ὀψιγόνοις χαρακτηρίσαιμεν’).³⁵ This is a key statement: Zonaras addresses his portrayal of the emperor to future generations, namely audiences who will have no personal recollections of public life under Alexios and who will learn of his reign through the flattering accounts of his encomiasts.

Interestingly, evidence in the Epitome demonstrates that Zonaras was well aware that propaganda created by Alexios’ successors was circulating about the founder of the Komnenian dynasty. The chronicler mentions that while Alexios was on his deathbed, his son John attempted to take control of the Great Palace.³⁶ John claimed that he had his father’s permission for this initiative, and that he had been offered a ring by Alexios as a token of his blessing. Zonaras does not openly dismiss this story. His careful remarks, however, to the effect that the incident was reported by John himself and that it escaped the notice of Alexios’ wife, Irene Doukaina, indicate that he seriously questioned its truth.

Reading the Epitome, one can observe that many faults identified by Zonaras in the Komnenian system of government are not unique to their era. In the Epitome, we do not read of any other leaders appointing a large number of their relatives and followers to crucial positions. We learn, however, of numerous emperors, such as Michael III, Constantine Porphyrogennetos, and Michael VI Stratiotikos,³⁷ who allocated honours and ranks based on questionable criteria. As far as Alexios’ practice of lavishing his circle with immense wealth (which led to a deficit in the imperial treasury) is concerned, it is interesting that the same remark appears in Zonaras’ overall evaluation of the emperors who reigned after Basil II and up to Isaac Komnenos (r. 1057–1059).³⁸ Zonaras says that these emperors would spend the public revenues indulging their own pleasures, building churches, and giving money to whomever they wished.³⁹ As a result, ‘the imperial treasuries were empty and the public vaults in want of money’ (‘οἱ βασιλικοὶ θησαυροὶ ἐκκεκένωντο καὶ τὰ δημόσια πρυτανεῖα χρημάτων ἐσπάνιζον’).⁴⁰ In addition, a recurring point throughout Zonaras’ account of imperial history is that emperors often spent excessive sums of money.⁴¹ Furthermore, the Komnenian emperor is presented by Zonaras as only one of the emperors who, in various ways, curtailed the income that was traditionally connected with several high offices. Nikephoros Phokas (r. 963–969), for instance, also partly reduced the imperial grants given to senators.⁴² Such measurements are comparable, to some extent, to policies that were meant to achieve the same goal—limiting the wealth and power of those high up in the social hierarchy. Indicative of such policies is the ‘ἀλληλέγγυον’ of Basil II.⁴³ Zonaras, moreover, sometimes makes the point of telling us that emperors either shunned or ignored the members of the senate and their counsellors.⁴⁴ Complaints that a ruler did not maintain the traditional customs of the Roman political order do not appear very often in Zonaras’ text. Such remarks, though, are made not only about Alexios but also about Basil II.⁴⁵ Finally, in Zonaras’ presentation of imperial history, there exist numerous examples of emperors, such as Justinian (r. 527–565), Nikephoros I (r. 802–811), and Nikephoros Phokas,⁴⁶ who devised outrageous new ways of collecting taxes, from which one can infer that imperial fiscal policies were generally among the subjects that attracted Zonaras’ attention.

Taken together, all these remarks suggest that the chronicler’s disappointment with the abuse of imperial power by the Komnenians during his time ultimately turned into a general disdain for similar policies, irrespective of the emperors who enforced them. Zonaras makes his sentiments about such policies known throughout his account of Byzantine history.

That Zonaras fundamentally condemned over-taxation, for example, is corroborated by his alterations to an extract derived from Theodoret of Cyrrhus’ Commentary on Daniel. The chronicler employs Theodoret’s work to analyse the seventh chapter of the book of Daniel, a prophecy which likens the appearance of four beasts to the succession of four great kingdoms in the world. The fourth beast, traditionally interpreted as being the Roman Empire, is depicted as having teeth made of iron. Here is Theodoret’s exegesis of this:

And there [Daniel] says: ‘The teeth of the beast are made of iron.’ It is clear that he is hinting at the same kingship at this point. He says: ‘[T]he beast was eating and making [people] thinner.’ And indeed Romans put heavier taxes on their subjects. He says: ‘[A]nd the beast was treading on the rest with its feet.’

Καὶ ἐνταῦθα δέ φησιν· ‘Οἱ ὀδόντες τοῦ θηρίου σιδηροῖ·’ ὡς εἶναι δῆλον, ὅτι τὴν αὐτὴν κἀνταῦθα βασιλείαν αἰνίττεται. ‘Ἤσθιε, φησὶ, καὶ ἐλέπτυνε.’ Καὶ τῷ ὄντι μείζους ἐπετέθησαν ὑπὸ Ῥωμαίων τοῖς ὑπηκόοις οἱ φόροι. ‘Καὶ τὰ ἐπίλοιπα, φησὶ, τοῖς ποσὶν αὑτοῦ συνεπάτει’.⁴⁷

The writer disapproves of the fiscal administration of the Roman Empire, apparently protesting against the heavy taxation levied upon citizens at the time he was writing.⁴⁸ Zonaras tries to sharpen his critique of Roman emperors who put burdensome taxes on their subjects by adapting Theodoret’s analysis:

The fact that it [the beast] was eating and making [people] thinner is understood to be the collection of taxes, because heavier taxes were levied upon subjects. These taxes feed and make emperors fat, while they make thin and impoverish the people from whom they are exacted. The beast treads on with his feet and destroys those men who do not bear to pay taxes, striving for their freedom.

τὸ μὲν οὖν ἐσθίειν καὶ λεπτύνειν εἰς τὴν τῶν δασμῶν ἐξείληπται εἰσφοράν, ὡς βαρυτέρων τοῖς ὑπηκόοις φόρων ἐπιτεθέντων, οἳ τοὺς βασιλεύοντας τρέφουσι καὶ πιαίνουσι, τοὺς δ’ εἰσπραττομένους αὐτοὺς ἐκλεπτύνουσι πενητεύοντας. οἳ δὲ δασμοφορεῖν οὐκ ἠνείχοντο, τῆς ἐλευθερίας ἀντιποιούμενοι, τούτους τοῖς ποσὶ συνεπάτει τὸ θηρίον καὶ ἐξωλόθρευε.⁴⁹

With a hint of sarcasm, the chronicler draws the mocking picture of emperors growing fat on the collection of taxes. This underscores that emperors imposed excessive taxes for their own personal gain, while forcing their subjects into circumstances of extreme poverty. The consequences for those who objected to such treatment on the part of the state were disastrous. Zonaras links economic prosperity with liberty: he implies that weighty taxation leads private men to lose their freedom and, by extension, shows an emperor to be an autocratic ruler with no concern for the well-being of his people.

According to the author, there was a certain set of principles that were once fundamental for the Byzantine political system, but have long ceased to be so. A valuable insight into these is provided by his commentary on the story of the astronomer Valens, who at the encaenia of Constantinople made a prediction about the longevity of the city.⁵⁰ This short extract from the Epitome is, along with the assessment of Alexios, among those usually exploited by scholars interested in Zonaras’ political ideology.⁵¹ Valens foretold that the newly built city would last for 696 years. Since the Byzantine capital had long outlived this by the time Zonaras was writing, the chronicler assumes that the prophecy was either false or intended to be taken figuratively. He believes that the astronomer might have meant those years when the customs of the polity were kept intact, the senate was treated with respect, private men prospered, and the administration of public affairs was lawful. Here, we can get a glimpse into Zonaras’ vision of the ideal Byzantine state, with the author enumerating its four main principles. It is not at all clear how long it had been since these ideal circumstances had changed. One is given to understand that the principles on which the model state was based had apparently ceased to exist a long time before.

In elaboration, he gives us the description of a tyranny as well, a polity which does not possess any of these principles. Tyrants administer public affairs as if they were their own to satisfy their own pleasures, and also offer state funds to whomever they wish. The writer further states that tyrants treat their subjects not as shepherds tending their flock, but ‘as thieves slaughtering the sheep and devouring their flesh, or even sucking the marrow from their bones’ (‘δίκην λῃστῶν αὐτὰ καταθυόντων τὰ πρόβατα καὶ τῶν σαρκῶν ἐμφορουμένων ἢ καὶ αὐτοὺς ἐκμυζώντων τοὺς μυελούς’).⁵² With this striking metaphor, he insinuates that a tyrannical ruler is one whose actions include imposing extremely heavy taxes.

The descriptions of an ideal and a tyrannical state accord well with the series of charges laid by Zonaras against several emperors. The author uses the principles that, in his view, characterize an ideal and a tyrannical rulership as standards against which to measure Byzantine emperors. Alexios Komnenos is presented in the Epitome in precisely the terms befitting a tyrant: he managed state affairs as if he were handling his own business, granted public property to family members and squeezed his subjects by extracting money from them in various unjust ways. All these aspects add up to the image of an autocratic despot. Without explicitly labelling Alexios a tyrant, Zonaras evidently does consider him one, but leaves it up to his audience to infer for themselves whether this was indeed the truth.

It is interesting that another mention of tyranny, this time in combination with the senate, is located in Zonaras’ interpretation of canon law. The writer makes an extensive analysis of the twenty-eighth canon of the Council of Chalcedon, which concerns the organization of the Church.⁵³ According to the canon, the see of New Rome was accorded equal prerogatives to those of Old Rome. The reason for this is that, just like Rome, Constantinople was also an imperial city and the seat of the senate. Commenting on this justification, Zonaras adds bitterly: ‘Even though nowadays the first [kingship] has turned into tyranny, and the second [the senate] has been closed and abandoned’ (‘Εἰ καὶ νῦν ἡ μὲν εἰς τυραννίδα μετήμειπται, ἡ δὲ συγκέκλεισται καὶ ἐκλέλοιπε’).⁵⁴ Here, he admits much more openly than in his section about Valens’ prediction that the Byzantium of his age has fallen short of the ideal state he envisioned. The contemporary political system is a tyranny, rather than a lawful kingship, and senators who, in his opinion, should be worthy of respect have been marginalized.

The two extracts above echo the writer’s belief that the Byzantine polity has declined with the passage of time. Judging from Zonaras’ severe attack on the Komnenian system of government, it is clear that, for him, this decay characterized the age in which he lived. It can be traced back much earlier, too, with a number of prior emperors implementing similar policies to those of Alexios. Like the Komnenian emperor, several rulers of the past would, for instance, spend enormous amounts of money or levy heavy taxes. What is striking in both the depiction of the ideal state in the passage about Valens and the short remark on the twenty-eighth canon of Chalcedon is the author’s emphasis on the role of the senate. This attests to the high regard in which he held the senatorial class. Although Zonaras, in principle, condemns certain political practices and feels that the Empire has long fallen short of the ideal state described in the passage about Valens, he by no means rejects the institution of emperorship itself. He does not challenge the political and ideological construct of Byzantium. His narrative very much concentrates on assessing the competence and character of rulers. Like Niketas Choniates, through his critique of the emperors, Zonaras shares his ideas about how a monarch should exercise government, discussing the balance between the powers and duties that arise from the imperial office.

As a private individual, he feels he has the right to reprehend a ruler for ill behaviour or ill administration of state affairs. This idea is eloquently expressed in his exegesis of the eighty-fourth apostolic canon, according to which if one unjustly insults a ruler, one should be punished. Commenting on the canon, the author notes that: ‘Nobody is allowed to insult emperors and lords. The canon, nevertheless, does not forbid [one] from rebuking them in the event that they do something improper, even if the words of rebuke are perhaps so fierce that they might be regarded as insults by those being rebuked’ (‘Ὑβρίζειν μὲν οὖν κεκώλυται πᾶς τις καὶ βασιλέας, καὶ ἄρχοντας̇ ἐλέγχειν δὲ παρὰ τὸ προσῆκον ποιοῦντάς τι, οὐ κωλύεται, κἂν οἱ τῶν ἐλέγχων λόγοι, δριμύτεροι ὄντες ἴσως, εἰς ὕβριν τοῖς ἐλεγχομένοις λογίζωνται’).⁵⁵ At this point, Zonaras makes a crucial distinction between insulting and rebuking an emperor. He accepts that being offensive towards a ruler is forbidden, but highlights that rebuking him, even very harshly, is permissible. In view of this comment, one can surmise that the writer must have understood his Kaiserkritik as a form of ‘ἔλεγχος’, an assessment of what an emperor has done or failed to do and, consequently, as a rebuke to emperors who instigate unlawful policies.⁵⁶

It is worth pointing out, however, that Zonaras does not lose sight of the fact that there can be no perfect rulers. Indicative of this is that not even Constantine the Great, traditionally the model emperor, is described solely in positive terms; he is said to have spent money lavishly and levied high taxes.⁵⁷ There is the other side of the coin, too. Readers of the Epitome may learn of the appealing qualities of emperors who are best known for something negative. The most characteristic example of this is the presentation of Julian, who, although condemned for his Hellenism, is acknowledged to be well-educated and temperate in his lifestyle.⁵⁸ Zonaras even tells us that the founder of the Komnenian dynasty exhibited some remarkable personality traits.⁵⁹ We learn, among other things, that he was neither contemptuous nor arrogant, and that he was not excessively avaricious. He was merciful, moderate in temper, easy to approach, and would not rush to inflict punishment on his subjects. He took notice of and honoured men of virtue, and was not excessively solemn when talking to his entourage, so that they did not approach him with fear. The author clearly did not consider Alexios an altogether bad or unworthy emperor.⁶⁰ He recognizes that the Komnenian ruler did possess qualities that a competent ruler ought to have. Nevertheless, according to Zonaras, a leader should display other virtues in addition to these; he ought to be fair, care for his subjects, and preserve the customs of the polity.⁶¹

All these lead the writer to arrive at a significant conclusion at the end of his presentation of imperial history: that, to make an overall assessment of an emperor’s character, one should take into account how he would conduct himself and act on most occasions during his reign. The relevant passage is as follows:

If someone seeks absolute perfection in emperors, I do not think that any of those who held the sceptre of the Romans from the beginning will be assessed as successful in everything, but the conduct of each emperor is characterized by the sum of his dispositions and deeds. For no one would ever seem either blameless or without faults. For this is of a more divine fate, but could never be part of human nature.

εἰ δὲ τὴν ἄγαν ἀκρίβειαν ζητοίη τις ἐν τοῖς αὐτοκράτορσιν, οὐκ οἶμαί τινα τῶν ἀνέκαθεν τῆς Ῥωμαίων ἐπιβεβηκότων ἡγεμονίας ἐν πᾶσιν εὐδοκιμηκότα κριθήσεσθαι, ἀλλ’ ἐκ τοῦ πλεονάζοντος ἐν τοῖς ἤθεσι σφῶν καὶ ταῖς πράξεσιν ἑκάστῳ ἡ πολιτεία κεχαρακτήρισται. ἀνέγκλητος γὰρ οὐδεὶς ἄν ποτε δόξαι οὐδ’ ἀμιγὴς τῆς χείρονος ἕξεως· θειοτέρας γὰρ τοῦτο μοίρας, ἀλλ’ οὐκ ἀνθρωπίνης εἴη ἄν ποτε φύσεως.⁶²

Bringing his narrative of the Empire to an end, the author presents his readers with the lesson he had derived himself: that no emperor in the course of the Empire’s history was excellent in every respect. This is natural, according to him, because, like all human beings, rulers have flaws. Surprisingly, despite the vehemence of his criticism, particularly against Alexios Komnenos, Zonaras ultimately takes a lenient approach to the way in which emperors should be judged. His conclusion can also be taken as a hint about those authors of historical accounts who paint hagiographical pictures of their benefactors, concealing or undermining their subjects’ objectionable actions. The chronicler’s unstated message to his audience is that they should treat such accounts with caution.

4.2 The Ideological Context

Building on the observations made so far in this chapter, I want to look into some additional passages which are revealing of the author’s ideological sympathies. The first is the section of the chronicle in which Zonaras talks about the social strata created by Romulus once he became king. In the following segment, Zonaras explains how the choice of the patricians was made: ‘From those most notable for their family, intelligence and way of life, he [Romulus] chose a hundred senators, naming them patricians’ (‘τῶν μέντοι περιφανεστέρων γένει τε καὶ συνέσει καὶ βίου αἱρέσει ἑκατὸν ἀπέδειξε βουλευτάς, πατρικίους ὀνομάσας αὐτούς’).⁶³ This statement should be compared to Zonaras’ original source, the Plutarchean Romulus: ‘He [Romulus] proclaimed a hundred noble men senators, and called them patricians’ (‘ἑκατὸν δὲ τοὺς ἀρίστους ἀπέδειξε βουλευτάς, καὶ αὐτοὺς μὲν πατρικίους […] προσηγόρευσεν’).⁶⁴ The chronicler modifies and expands the term ‘noble’ that he finds in Plutarch’s narrative. This is an enlightening alteration because it reflects Zonaras’ own understanding of nobility. His paradigm of nobility includes prominent lineage, remarkable intellectual qualities, and exemplary conduct. The writer had a broad concept of the aristocratic class in mind, one not associated strictly with a man’s descent, but also with his intellect.

Immediately afterwards, he explains why the class of patricians was given this name. One of the reasons, according to Zonaras, was that ‘for themselves, each one could prove that their own fathers came from eminent families’ (‘ὅτι αὐτοὶ πατέρας ἑαυτῶν ἀποδεικνύειν ἠδύναντο ἕκαστος ἐκ γένους ὄντες γνωρίμου’).⁶⁵ In the Romulus, Plutarch writes that it was ‘because they could tell who their own fathers were’ (‘αὐτοὺς ἔχοντας ἑαυτῶν ἀποδεῖξαι πατέρας’).⁶⁶ The chronicler adds the detail about the illustrious origin of the patricians. He paraphrases Plutarch’s text to point out that patricians were given their title because their patres, their fathers, were of distinguished extraction. In this way, he aims to emphasize that, following the establishment of the senatorial class, its members have been aristocrats; they were by no means a random group of people. Zonaras here provides an additional reason why senators are worthy of respect—their noble historical origins.

In addition, one can identify the chronicler’s ideological sympathies when noting Zonaras’ telling amendment to a passage of Theophanes. This passage is the speech which Justin II (r. 565–574) publicly addressed to Tiberius II (r. 578–582) when he named him as his successor.⁶⁷ The speech, which was first recorded by Theophylaktos Simokattes and was then copied by later authors,⁶⁸ Theophanes included, contains advice to Tiberius about how an emperor should rule. In the Epitome, one can read that an emperor should ‘allow men of wealth to enjoy their properties without being subject to envy’ (‘τοῖς εὐποροῦσιν ἀπολαύειν τῶν οἰκείων ἀνεπιφθόνως παραχωρεῖν’).⁶⁹ The original segment in Theophanes’ chronicle is ‘those who have properties should enjoy them’ (‘οἱ ἔχοντες οὐσίας ἀπολαυέτωσαν αὐτῶν’).⁷⁰ Zonaras adds the adverb ‘ἀνεπιφθόνως’ to the text of his source to emphasize that emperors should not deprive private people of their money out of jealousy,⁷¹ for instance by means of confiscation or heavy taxation. More importantly, he narrows the category of people who should be allowed to enjoy their possessions. Theophanes speaks generically of people who have property, without taking their social standing into consideration. Slightly changing the text of his source, Zonaras conveys the message that a ruler ought to protect the property of the members of the upper class specifically.

A further passage that is of interest concerns the beginning of Leo III’s campaign against icons. Basing his account primarily on George the Monk’s chronicle, Zonaras tells his readers that twelve men, all extremely educated and knowledgeable, resided in an imperial house in the basilica near the Chalkoprateia and provided the emperor with advice.⁷² After launching his policy of iconoclasm, Leo asked for their opinion. Here follows what we read in the Epitome:

And having summoned the men, he communicated to them his wicked decision about the holy icons. Not only did they not agree with him, but they attempted to entirely change his decision, in some way stroking the beast which bears the name ‘lion’ and chanting magical words for his deliverance, in some way going against him more intensely and rebuking him regarding his impiety. Like a cobra he blocked his ears and was neither listening to the voice of those who chanted incantations, nor was he being healed by the wise men. […] But he [Leo] ordered that much wood, which was easy to ignite a fire, should be collected, put around the residence and kindled during the night. He thus burnt the residence down along with the books, and also those wise and respectable men.

καὶ τοὺς ἄνδρας μεταστειλάμενος τὴν περὶ τῶν σεβαστῶν εἰκόνων γνώμην αὐτοῦ τὴν πονηρὰν αὐτοῖς ἐκοινώσατο. οἱ δὲ οὐχ ὅσον οὐχ ὡμοδόξουν αὐτῷ, ἀλλὰ καὶ αὐτὸν μεταστῆσαι τῆς γνώμης ταύτης ἐπεχείρουν ὁλοσχερῶς, πῇ μὲν καταψῶντες τὸν θῆρα τὸν λεοντώνυμον καὶ κατεπᾴδοντες αὐτοῦ τὰ σωτήρια, πῇ δὲ γενναιότερον ἀντιβαίνοντες καὶ διελέγχοντες τὴν ἀσέβειαν. ὁ δὲ ὡσεὶ ἀσπὶς ἔβυε τὰ ὦτα καὶ φωνῆς ἐπᾳδόντων οὐκ ἤκουεν οὐδ’ ἐφαρμακεύετο παρὰ τῶν σοφῶν.⁷³ […] αὐτὸς δὲ κελεύσας εὔπρηστον ὕλην συναχθῆναι πολλὴν καὶ πέριξ τοῦ οἴκου τεθεῖσαν ἀναφθῆναι νυκτός, οὕτω τόν τε οἶκον σὺν ταῖς βίβλοις καὶ τοὺς σοφοὺς ἐκείνους ἄνδρας καὶ σεβασμίους κατέκαυσε.⁷⁴

George the Monk writes in the corresponding section of his work:

Having summoned them, the most savage beast and vulgar man of evil name was trying to convince [them] to agree to his neglect of God. As they did not accept it but very much rebuked him regarding his impiety, he ordered that they be dragged dishonourably and be confined in the same place of the school. When this had happened, in the night, after sending out again some chiefs of the night watch and cruel men, the wild monster ordered that much wood to be collected and, once the wood had been set alight, the men along with the dwellings and books and all the rest of their belongings to be burnt.

τούτους ὁ ἀγριώτατος θὴρ καὶ δυσώνυμος βάναυσος προσκαλεσάμενος ἐπειρᾶτο πείθειν συνθέσθαι αὐτοῦ τῇ ἀθεΐᾳ. τῶν δὲ τοῦτο μὴ καταδεξαμένων, ἀλλὰ καὶ μᾶλλον ἐλεγξάντων αὐτοῦ τὴν ἀσέβειαν, προσέταξε συρομένους αὐτοὺς ἀτίμως ἐν τῷ αὐτῷ τόπῳ τοῦ διδασκαλείου αὐτῶν ἐγκλεισθῆναι. τούτου δὲ γενομένου τῇ νυκτὶ πάλιν ἀποστείλας ὁ ἀνήμερος δράκων νυκτεπάρχους τινὰς καὶ ἀπηνεῖς ἄνδρας προσέταξε συναχθῆναι πλῆθος ξύλων καὶ τούτων ὑπαφθέντων κατακαῆναι τοὺς ἄνδρας σὺν τῶν οἰκημάτων καὶ τῶν βιβλίων καὶ τῶν λοιπῶν αὐτοῖς ὑπαρχόντων.⁷⁵

Zonaras expounds the text of his source to highlight two points. The first concerns the intellectual capacities of Leo’s advisers. The writer adds two epithets about them in this extract: wise (‘παρὰ τῶν σοφῶν’, ‘τοὺς σοφοὺς’), a characterization which appears twice; and respected (‘σεβασμίους’). These men were apparently worthy of respect because of their sagacity and level of education. There is no mention of their descent. Second, Zonaras inserts a couple of lines not found in George the Monk’s text (‘ἀλλὰ καὶ αὐτὸν μεταστῆσαι […] τὰ σωτήρια’), aiming to stress that the twelve counsellors made a great effort to dissuade the emperor from banishing the icons. Not only did they attempt to change his mind, but they also reproved him for his lack of piety. Both texts mention the concept of ἔλεγχος (‘διελέγχοντες’, ‘ἐλεγξάντων’), but Zonaras purposely adds that the advisers displayed great bravery in reprimanding the emperor. These points illustrate how an educated man close to the emperor might be able to prevent him from pursuing the wrong course of action.⁷⁶ Zonaras, as we see, lays the emphasis on the idea of nobility of intellect.

A short extract that should be given attention in addition to this one is found in Zonaras’ portrayal of the emperor Constantine X Doukas (r. 1059–1067): ‘Despite the fact that he [Constantine] was not versed in letters, he loved them and also respected learned men, and used to say that he wished to become known much more for his scholarly knowledge rather than for his kingship’ (‘λόγοις δὲ οὐχ ὡμιληκὼς ἠγάπα τούτους καὶ τοὺς λογίους ἐσέβετο, καὶ ἔλεγε βούλεσθαι μᾶλλον ἐκ λόγων ἢ τῆς βασιλείας γνωρίζεσθαι’).⁷⁷ This part of the chronicle depends on Psellos’ Chronography. The relevant segment of Psellos is as follows: ‘He [Constantine] very much devoted himself to letters. He said: “Would that I became known from my scholarly knowledge, rather than my kingship” ’ (‘τοῖς δὲ λόγοις ἐξόχως προσκείμενος, “ὤφελον» ἔλεγεν «ἐκ τούτου, ἢ τῆς βασιλείας γνωρίζεσθαι”.’).⁷⁸ In contrast to Psellos, Zonaras notes that Constantine was not an educated man. Also, the brief sentence inserted by Zonaras about the respect shown by Constantine to men of letters is absent from Psellos’ account. It is evident that it was added by the author to provide an example of an emperor who, despite not being a learned man himself, appreciated and honoured the intellectuals in his entourage.

Extracts such as these testify to the chronicler’s ideological orientation. There can be hardly any doubt that he favoured noblemen of birth and men of letters, two social groups affected badly by the Komnenian style of government. Prior to Alexios Komnenos’ accession to the throne, learned men were offered greater chance to attain either high positions in the state bureaucracy or prestigious offices in the imperial court.⁷⁹ Zonaras alters or expands on his source texts in order to bestow importance on the aristocratic and intellectual elite that should surround a ruler. He attempts to promote the idea of a group of noblemen and learned men around the emperor, perhaps counterbalancing the dominance of those related to the Komnenoi. He implicitly presents his own alternative here, namely that men of noble birth as well as men of education are able to offer great services to the emperor. They should therefore be given the chance to do so, instead of being sidelined.

It is evident that Zonaras’ idea of ‘upper class’ includes the families of the traditional aristocracy, but also those who occupied important positions thanks to their level of education. The chronicler himself, who had a distinguished career as a judge, belonged to the second group. As was seen in the first chapter, moreover, he came from a family whose members were apparently well-educated and had worked in the higher echelons of the civil administration.⁸⁰ He clearly believes that the members of his own social group belonged to the elite class on the basis of their ability.

Overall, as has been shown in this chapter, Zonaras condemns in principle those practices that are not in line with the concept of the model state he envisions. In his view, the foundation of an ideal state is the preservation of the traditional customs of the polity, showing respect to the senate, the prosperity of private individuals and the lawful administration of state affairs. Using these principles as a compass, Zonaras evaluates an emperor’s efficiency in the administration of public affairs. He touches upon issues that relate to the nature of the imperial authority and the constitutional rights of a monarch, without, however, questioning the authority of the imperial office. By amending the relevant passages of his sources, Zonaras gives prominence to the qualities exhibited by aristocrats as well as men of culture, and thus argues in favour of an enhanced role for these groups at the imperial court.

John Zonaras’ Epitome of Histories: A Compendium of Jewish-Roman History and Its Reception. Theofili Kampianaki, Oxford University Press. © Theofili Kampianaki 2022. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780192865106.003.0005

¹ Elements of Kaiserkritik can be identified in various media, apart from written texts. For example, it has been argued that the person who commissioned a mid-eleventh-century psalter, the Vat. gr. 752, criticizes imperial behaviour through the careful selection and arrangement of miniatures in the manuscript: I. Kalavrezou, N. Trahoulia and S. Sabar, ‘Critique of the Emperor in the Vatican Psalter gr. 752’, DOP, 47 (1993), 195–219.

² I cite a selection of studies that deal with the political and social background of the chronicle: Kaldellis, Byzantine Republic, 47–8; Fryde, Renaissance, 53–4; Kazhdan, ‘Social Views’, 59–63; Magdalino, ‘Kaiserkritik’.

³ Two studies that compare Zonaras’ account with that of Anna are: Macrides, ‘Who Wrote the Alexiad?’, 72–5; Angold, ‘Afterword’.

⁴ F. Tinnefeld, Kategorien der Kaiserkritik in der Historiographie von Prokop bis Niketas Choniates (Munich, 1971). For the concept of Kaiserkritik, see also Magdalino, ‘Kaiserkritik’.

⁵ Skylitzes, Synopsis, 347.76–80 (Book 17, chapter 32).

⁶ Skylitzes, Synopsis, 997.64–998.74 (Book 20, chapter 7). The translation is taken from John Skylitzes: A Synopsis, 375.

⁷ Psellos, Chronography, 131.1–132.4 (Book 6, chapters 62–3).

⁸ Ibid., 176.1–176.9 (Book 6, chapter 153).

⁹ Attaleiates, Historia, 151.2–4.

¹⁰ V. Stankovic and A. Berger, ‘The Komnenoi and Constantinople Before the Building of the Pantokrator Complex’, in The Pantokrator Monastery, ed. by Kotzabassi, 3–32, at 23–4; Frankopan, ‘Advice’.

¹¹ John Oxeites, Τοῦ ἁγιωτάτου πατριάρχου Ἀντιοχείας κῦρ Ἰωάννου λόγος εἰς τὸν βασιλέα Ἀλέξιον τὸν Κομνηνόν, ed. by P. Gautier, in Diatribes de Jean l’Oxite contre Alexis Ier Comnène, REB, 28 (1970), 19–49, esp. from 29 onwards. See also Angold, Church and Society, 66–7.

¹² Eustathios of Thessalonike, Capture, 14.31–18.15, 54.16–28.

¹³ Ibid., 74.19–29.

¹⁴ Michael Choniates, Τῷ βασιλεῖ τῷ Λάσκαρι τῆς Ἀνατολῆς, in Michaelis Choniatae epistulae, ed. by F. Kolovou (Berlin, 2001), 284–6, at 284.11–18.

¹⁵ Magdalino, ‘Kaiserkritik’, 327. In general on Choniates’ Kaiserkritik, see also Magdalino, The Empire of Manuel, 158–79. According to Alicia Simpson, Choniates used Psellos as ideological and literary model for his critique of earlier emperors: Simpson, Niketas Choniates, 253–6.

¹⁶ Choniates, Historia, 60.35–44, 143.42–64, 209.59–65.

¹⁷ See also the observation in Frankopan, ‘Advice’, 71–2.

¹⁸ For a different view of Zonaras’ assessment of Alexios Komnenos as a ruler, see Kaldellis, Byzantine Republic, 47, where it is stated that Zonaras ‘articulated a republican critique of the new regime’ and expected his readers ‘to sympathize with the republican values he outlines’.

¹⁹ Epitome, III, 766.14–16.

²⁰ Ibid., 732.10–4 and 767.2–9. This subject is examined in Frankopan, ‘Kinship’. The Komnenian system of government, based on the domination of members of the ruling family, is explained in Magdalino, The Empire of Manuel, 180–201.

²¹ Epitome, III, 767.1–2. Highly educated men of noble extraction and aristocrats without ties to the imperial family were among those excluded by the favouritism of the Komnenian emperors towards their extended family: see Magdalino, The Empire of Manuel, 189–90.

²² Epitome, III, 732.15–733.1.

²³ Ibid., 733.1–3.

²⁴ Ibid., 766.17–19.

²⁵ Ibid., 766.7–14.

²⁶ Ibid., 737.15–738.2.

²⁷ Ibid., 737.11–14.

²⁸ Frankopan, ‘Kinship’, 2–3.

²⁹ Magdalino, ‘The Pen of the Aunt’, 17–20.

³⁰ Another member of the Komnenian family, the sebastokrator Isaac Komnenos, the third son of Alexios Komnenos, also had imperial aspirations and tried to appropriate his father’s memory to pursue his political ambitions: K. Linardou, ‘Imperial Impersonations: Disguised Portraits of a Komnenian Prince and Ηis Father’, in John II Komnenos, ed. by Bucossi and Rodriguez Suarez, 155–82; Magdalino, ‘The Pen of the Aunt’, 20.

³¹ Mousai, ed. by P. Maas, ‘Die Musen des Kaisers Alexios I’, BZ, 22 (1913), 348–69. See also M. Mullett, ‘Whose Muses? Two Admonitory Poems Attributed to Alexios I Komnenos’, in La face cachée de la littérature byzantine: le texte en tant que message immediate, ed. by P. Odorico (Paris, 2012), 195–220; D. R. Reinsch, ‘Bemerkungen zu einigen byzantinischen ‚Fürstenspiegeln‘ des 11. und 12. Jahrhunderts’, in Synesios von Kyrene: Politik—Literatur—Philosophie, ed. by H. Seng and L. M. Hoffmann (Turnhout, 2012), 404–19, at 412–16.

³² For Manganeios Prodromos, as the writer of the extensive corpus of poems found in the codex Marc. gr. XI 22 is commonly known, see E. and M. Jeffreys, ‘Literary Reactions’; W. Hörandner, ‘Marginalien zum ‘Manganeios’ Prodromos’, JÖB, 24 (1975), 95–106. The titles of Manganeios’ poems can be found in Magdalino, The Empire of Manuel, 494–500. An edition of the full corpus of Manganeios’ poems is currently in progress by Professors Elizabeth and Michael Jeffreys.

³³ Magdalino, ‘The Pen of the Aunt’, 21–3.

³⁴ See p. 58 of this book. I share the opinion of Michael Angold that ‘it is just an assumption that it [the Epitome] was intended as a riposte to the Alexiad’: Angold, ‘Afterword’, 400.

³⁵ Epitome, III, 765.5–6.

³⁶ Ibid., 762.10–16.

³⁷ Ibid., 393.9–15; III, 483.12–15; III, 663.12–664.2, respectively.

³⁸ His assessment at this point draws on the corresponding section of Psellos’ Chronography: see Psellos, Chronography, 234.1–236.1 (Book 7, chapters 58–9).

³⁹ Epitome, III, 667.1–7.

⁴⁰ Epitome, III, 667.6–7.

⁴¹ Epitome, II, 537.2, 562.17; III, 25.1–2, 151.17–152.4, 243.9–13, 283.4–7.

⁴² Epitome, III, 504.18–19.

⁴³ Deriving this piece of information from Skylitzes’ Synopsis, the chronicler writes that, according to Basil’s decree, men of high rank had to cover the tax contributions of peasants who had been financially ruined: Epitome, III, 561.1–3. Cf. Skylitzes, Synopsis, 347.76–80 (Book 17, chapter 32).

⁴⁴ Epitome, II, 532.18; III, 563.1–3; 260.4–261.5; 561.11–12.

⁴⁵ Following Michael Psellos at this point, the chronicler states that the Macedonian emperor did not wish to manage the affairs of the army and the state according to established tradition, but according to his own judgement: see Epitome, III, 561.8–11. Cf. Psellos, Chronography, 18.8–10 (Book 1, chapter 29).

⁴⁶ Epitome, III, 152.4–6, 306.3–308.2, 504.12–14, respectively.

⁴⁷ Theodoret of Cyrrhus, B. Theodoreti episcopi Cyrensis commentarius in visiones Danielis prophetae, PG, 81, 1420.17–23.

⁴⁸ Indeed, Theodoret was particularly concerned with the issue of taxation. Seven letters of the bishop addressed to public authorities ask for tax relief for the citizens of Cyrrhus: see F. Millar, A Greek Roman Empire: Power and Belief Under Theodosius II (Berkeley, 2006), 29, 146–8.

⁴⁹ Epitome, I, 227.22–228.4.

⁵⁰ Epitome, III, 14.11–15.16.

⁵¹ Kaldellis, Byzantine Republic, 47; Macrides and Magdalino, ‘Fourth Kingdom’, 128–9; Magdalino, ‘Kaiserkritik’, 330–1. The last two studies contain a translation of the extract.

⁵² Epitome, III, 15.14–16.

⁵³ Rhalles and Potles, Σύνταγμα, II, 282–4.

⁵⁴ Ibid., 283.

⁵⁵ Ibid., 108.

⁵⁶ The term ‘ἔλεγχος’, common in Late Antique and Byzantine sources, can be used in various contexts. Apart from the evaluation and criticism of someone as a ruler, ‘ἔλεγχος’ often means the assessment of a person’s religious beliefs against the Bible and the writings of the Church Fathers. Hence, we sometimes find the title Ἔλεγχος καὶ ἀνατροπή (‘Assessment and refutation’) in theological treatises: see, for example, the titles in: Nikephoros I, patriarch of Constantinople, Refutatio et Eversio Definitionis Synodalis Anni 815, ed. by J. Featherstone (Turnhout, 1997); Peter of Sicily, Historia utilis et refutatio Manichaeorum vel Paulicianorum, in ‘Les sources grecques pour l’histoire des Pauliciens d’Asie Mineure I. Pierre de Sicile. Histoire des Pauliciens’, ed. by D. Papachryssanthou, TM, 4 (1970), 7–67.

⁵⁷ Epitome, III, 25.1–2.

⁵⁸ Ibid., 69.1–4.

⁵⁹ Ibid., 765.5–766.3.

⁶⁰ This is also eloquently stated as the chronicler concludes his critique of Alexios: ‘but one could not characterize the Komnenian as a bad emperor either’ (‘ἀλλ’ οὐδὲ μέντοι φαῦλον εἴποι τις τὸν Κομνηνὸν αὐτοκράτορα’): Epitome, III, 767.11–12.

⁶¹ Epitome, III, 766.4–11.

⁶² Ibid., 767.12–19.

⁶³ Epitome, II, 10.17–19.

⁶⁴ Plutarch, Romulus, 49.21–3.

⁶⁵ Epitome, II, 11.1–2. The syntax of this short segment is problematic. It seems to me that the accusative ‘πατέρας’ is the subject of the infinitive ‘ἀποδεικνύειν’, just as the word ‘πατέρας’ is the subject of ‘ἀποδεῖξαι’ in the Plutarchean text. In this case, we would expect ‘ὄντας’ to be in the accusative, rather than to have ‘ὄντες’ in the nominative. In the edition of the Epitome by Dindorf, we also find ‘ὄντες’: Epitome historiarum, ed. by Dindorf, II, 91.24–6. I believe the use of the participle in the nominative, instead of the accusative, is a mistake by either a scribe or Zonaras himself.

⁶⁶ Plutarch, Romulus, 49.26–7. The translation is taken from Plutarch: Romulus, in Lives, Volume I Theseus and Romulus. Lycurgus and Numa. Solon and Publicola, trans. into English by B. Perrin (Cambridge; MA, 1914), 125.

⁶⁷ This part of the Epitome is commented on Kazhdan, ‘Social Views’, 26.

⁶⁸ For Justin’s speech, see S. Efthymiadis, ‘A Historian and His Tragic Hero: A Literary Reading of Theophylact Simokatta’s Ecumenical History’, in History as Literature, ed. by Macrides, 169–86, at 177–8.

⁶⁹ Epitome, III, 178.14–15.

⁷⁰ Theophanes, Chronographia, I, 249.2–3.

⁷¹ The emotion of envy (‘φθόνος’) in Byzantium has been discussed at length by Martin Hinterberger in several studies. According to Hinterberger, the emergence of envy was connected to social mobility in Byzantium, as it fostered rivalry and competition. Envy also has connotations connecting it to the devil: M. Hinterberger, Phthonos. Missgunst, Neid und Eifersucht in der byzantinischen Literatur (Wiesbaden, 2013); M. Hinterberger, ‘Envy and Nemesis in the Vita Basili and Leo the Deacon: Literary Mimesis or Something More?’, in History as Literature, ed. by Macrides, 187–203; M. Hinterberger, ‘Phthonos als treibende Kraft in Prodromos, Manasses und Bryennios’, Medioevo Graeco, 11 (2011), 1–24; M. Hinterberger, ‘Emotions in Byzantium’, in A Companion to Byzantium, ed. by James, 123–34, at 130–2.

⁷² Epitome, III, 259.18–260.9.

⁷³ See Psalms 58.5–6.

⁷⁴ Epitome, III, 260.10–17, 261.2–5.

⁷⁵ George the Monk, Chronicon, II, 742.9–18. The story of Leo’s twelve wise advisers appears in other sources too, such as the chronicles of Symeon the Logothete and George Kedrenos: see Symeon the Logothete, Symeonis Magistri et Logothetae chronicon, ed. by S. Wahlgren (Berlin, 2006), 184.76–9; George Kedrenos, Georgius Cedrenus Ioannis Scylitzae ope, ed. by I. Bekker (Bonn, 1838), 796.2–6. The Epitome bears striking linguistic similarities to the accounts of both George the Monk and Symeon the Logothete. Zonaras seems to follow primarily George the Monk though, not only because there is an almost identical phrase in both texts (‘διελέγχοντες τὴν ἀσέβειαν’ in Zonaras, ‘ἐλεγξάντων αὐτοῦ τὴν ἀσέβειαν’ in George the Monk) but also because there is a piece of information in the Epitome, namely that the burning of the house and the wise men occurred during the night, which can be found in George the Monk, but not in Symeon the Logothete. Zonaras might have also consulted Kedrenos’ text, as both chroniclers note that the fire was ignited ‘around’ the residence of the twelve men, a detail that is not present in either George the Monk or Symeon the Logothete. What should be underlined is that the additions, which, as will be shown, Zonaras made to this story are all original to the author.

⁷⁶ Zonaras’ contemporary audience would have been familiar with the theme of wise intellectuals as advisers to rulers, as it was a popular topos in eleventh- and twelfth-century Byzantine literature. Stories of wise literati offering advice to kings and princes feature, for instance, in prose narratives of Eastern origin that were translated into Greek during these centuries, such as The Book of Syntipas the Philosopher, Stephanites and Ichnelates, and The Book of Aesop: see I. Toth, ‘Fighting With Tales: 2 The Byzantine Book of Syntipas the Philosopher’, in Fictional Storytelling in the Medieval Eastern Mediterranean and Beyond, ed. by C. Cupane and B. Krönung (Leiden, 2016), 380–400, particularly at 382, 390–2. In works of a historical character, the theme of an intellectual’s role as a counsellor to a ruler emerges, most notably, in Psellos’ Chronography, where it is employed by Psellos as a means to promote and polish his image: see, for instance, Psellos, Chronography, 182.9–183.11 (Book 6, chapter 168); 202.1–11 (Book 6, chapter 216); 226.1–16 (Book 7, chapter 39); 248.3–9 (Book 7, chapter 86).

⁷⁷ Epitome, III, 682.8–9. In this section, Zonaras plays on the words ‘λόγος’ and ‘λόγιος’.

⁷⁸ Psellos, Chronography, 262.7–8 (Book 7, chapter 121).

⁷⁹ Magdalino, The Empire of Manuel, 189.

⁸⁰ See p. 7 of this book.