Emperor leo iii the isau.., p.13
Emperor Leo III the Isaurian, page 13
According to the shared source of Theophanes and Nikephoros, Anastasius did a good job in choosing his officials and strategoi, including possibly a certain Leo as Anatolic strategos. The empire needed its best men in position due to what the Umayyad caliphate was planning for the next few years. The annual Arab raids had continued, with 713/714 seeing Maslamah leading a devastating raid on Galatia,46 but something more was in the offing and Anastasius’ intelligence sources told him he needed to find out more. Therefore, he dispatched an embassy under the patrician and urban prefect, Daniel of Sinope, to caliph al-Walid I in Syria ‘on the pretext of negotiating peace,’47 but really to investigate the size and strength of the expedition that was being planned. When Daniel returned, he was able to inform the emperor that the Umayyads were planning a massive strike not just into Roman territory, but a targeted attack on Constantinople itself by land and sea. Anastasius took significant steps towards the preparation of the city and the empire. He ordered that anyone who could not provide three-years’ worth of food should leave Constantinople, while also building up its stores. He also set about making significant repairs to the imperial fleet, both in terms of smaller and larger ships, and to the land, sea, and machine defences of the capital.48 The significance of these actions should not be forgotten.
Anastasius did not just rely on diplomatic and defensive measures to disrupt Umayyad preparations for their expedition (which were already facing some disruption through the death of al-Walid and dispute between his son Abd al-Aziz and his brother Suleiman). He also looked to go on the offensive. Some encouragement may have been given to the Anatolic and Armeniac strategoi to put pressure on the Arab raiding columns and even Umayyad territory, but the largest counter-offensive came with his rebuilt imperial fleet. Reports arrived of the Alexandrian fleet moving north to Phoenix (likely that on Rhodes rather than in Lycia or Phoenicia) with the aim of collecting cypress wood for repairs and shipbuilding. Anastasius took this opportunity to send a squadron of the imperial navy, loaded with some Opsikon regiments, to join with other ships at Rhodes (probably from the naval forces in southern Anatolia – either Karabisiani or Kibyrrhaeots). He gave command of the expedition to ‘a prudent and experienced man’49 John the Deacon, the grand logothete. Upon assembling at Rhodes, John called a council with his officers on the plan to attack the Arab fleet at Phoenix. ‘While everyone else readily obeyed,’50 there was a section of the expedition – called ‘evildoers’ by Theophanes – who not only rejected this plan, but openly rebelled against John and the regime of Anastasius II – the Opsikons.
With this one act of mutiny, what was a strong and decisive start to the reign of Anastasius II came crashing down within months. And the catalyst was one of the reign’s earliest actions. The attempt to impose discipline and unshackle himself from the influence of the military, particularly the Opsikons, through the removal of George Bouraphos and Theodore Myakios, had the opposite effect. Rankling under strict disciplinary measures and angry at the perceived imperial ingratitude, the Opsikons were likely waiting for the opportunity to vent that dissatisfaction with Anastasius. And their dispatching from the capital to take part on the planned raid on the Arab fleet at Phoenix was just such an opportunity. John the Deacon was murdered and the fleet broke up. However, the mutinous Opsikon regiments could not simply return to the capital. Instead, they headed for their thematic bases in north-western Asia Minor to gather further support. By the time they reached Adramyttium (part of the Thrakesian theme), they had decided to elevate their mutiny to a usurpation.
Their choice of imperial candidate fell upon a local tax collector called Theodosius. Reputedly, he was ‘an idle and ordinary fellow’51 who had little interest in being thrust into imperial contention, going as far as to flee for the hills around Adramyttium. The Opsikons had to drag him out of hiding and forcibly proclaim him emperor. There could be some truth to this for the end of Theodosius III’s reign hardly demonstrated that his heart was in the job, but it could also be said that this reluctance to accept imperial elevation was merely part of the traditional refutatio imperii, around in some form since Augustus nearly 750 years previously. Indeed, similar ‘reluctance’ had reputedly been shown by Heraclius in 610, so it was not completely unheard of by 715.52
The sources likely made a little too much of this reluctance. It has been argued that far from being a tax-collector in Adramyttium, Theodosius III was instead the son of Tiberius III, marking him out as a viable contender. Certainly, the Theodosius, bishop of Ephesus, who played a significant role at the iconoclastic Council of Hieria in 754 was listed as ‘son of Apsimaros’ by Theophanes,53 but if this bishop was the former emperor, it would surely have been mentioned. This suggestion also requires Theodosius III to survive his deposition by 40 years and for Theophanes to record that the grave of an iconoclastic heretic reputedly performed miracles. The bishop of Ephesus could have had some connection to the deposed Theodosius III (a son perhaps?), but it seems unlikely that the usurper of 715 was connected to Tiberius III.54
Upon hearing of this usurpation, Anastasius posted loyal officers around the capital and the fleet, and then crossed the Bosphorus and made for Nicaea. Moving away from the defences of Constantinople was a strange choice and he had the example of Justinian II to learn from. Did Anastasius feel insecure in the capital or was he keen to nip this usurpation in the bud by attacking and defeating it quickly? It must be said that Nicaea was the Opsikon thematic capital, so maybe he thought to cut off the head of the snake; furthermore, moving to Asia Minor would have brought Anastasius into closer contact with two men who would later claim to be firm supporters of his, Leo and Artabasdos, the Anatolic and Armeniac strategoi. This denial of the Opsikons some of their home territory and a congregating of loyalist thematic forces in north-western Asia Minor should have been enough to bring matters to a head rather quickly. Instead, the civil war lasted six months, with Leo and Artabasdos offering Anastasius only nominal support. While they were distracted by the Arab advances into Anatolia and Armenia, it seems that neither strategoi really cared about keeping Anastasius on the imperial throne. It may even be that they were already planning a move of their own.
Anastasius was left shorn of a major part of his military support, which rendered his bold move to Nicaea the cause for his defeat. Theodosius and his backers rallied much of the Opsikon theme and a force of Gothograeci, Hellenised descendants of Goths settled in Bithynia. They were also able to capture some more ships and sail through the Hellespont and the Sea of Marmara to establish themselves at Chrysopolis, on the opposite side of the Bosphorus to Constantinople itself. Without the Anatolics and Armeniacs, Anastasius was unable to make any inroads against Theodosius’ position. The conflict descended into a contest for control of the Bosphorus and Constantinople itself. The renovated imperial fleet, operating out of the harbour of St Mamas, was strong enough to repel Theodosius’ ships over the next six months. However, when the imperial fleet moved to the urban harbour of Neorion, Theodosius seized the opportunity, quickly ferrying his forces across to Thrace and effectively taking control of the land outside the walls of Constantinople. This move away from blocking the crossing of the Bosphorus was another strategic misstep by Anastasius. Perhaps they were thinking that the fighting was done for the year as it was by now late autumn/early winter 715, but the subsequent admittance of Theodosius’ forces into Constantinople through treachery could suggest that some of those ‘loyal officers’ Anastasius had posted to lead the fleet and the capital in his absence were anything but. Whoever it was who opened the Blachernae gate likely soon regretted that decision because the Opsikons and the Gothograeci effectively treated Constantinople like a conquered foreign city as they ‘raided by night the houses of the citizens and wrought great havoc without respect for anything.’55 This reflects disastrously on the control, or lack thereof, that Theodosius had over his own forces; however, this was not the first time in living memory that Constantinople had been treated in such a way – the forces of Tiberius III had plundered the city upon their capture of it from Leontios in 698, although these episodes could represent ‘urban-rural hostility as much as the general behaviour of soldiers.’56
In the face of the Opsikon-backed usurper, who was now in control of Constantinople, and the failure of his thematic allies to aid him Anastasius may have reached out to the only other army of any size which might be willing and able to intervene on his behalf – that of Maslamah, the commander of the Arab armies charged by the caliph with attacking and capturing the Roman imperial capital … You could imagine that such treachery would see any support for Anastasius melt away, but then not only was he becoming increasingly desperate, Justinian II and Bardanes had used foreign aid to further their imperial ambitions in recent years. If there was any concerted interaction between the emperor at Nicaea and the advancing Umayyad general, it came to nought. With the imperial capital in his hands and loyalist resistance crumbling away, Theodosius marched upon Nicaea. In the end, little to no fighting was required. When Anastasius saw the hostages in the train of the usurper – pro-Anastasian officers and patriarch Germanos, together with the failure of his land and sea forces, his nerve broke. He made contact with Theodosius, and asked for safe conduct in return for him giving up the imperial title and taking monastic orders. Theodosius agreed, exiling the now ex-emperor to Thessalonica.57
The recording of Anastasius’ reign throws up some chronological issues. His accession is straightforward, dated to Pentecost – 4 June 713; however, Theophanes attributes him with a reign of only 1 year 3 months; a section in which Theophanes also misdates the reign of Bardanes as lasting 2 years 9 months, rather than 1 year 9 months at most.58 Demonstrating the chronological tangle that Theophanes has gotten himself into, in recording Germanos’ translation to the Constantinopolitan patriarchate, he places it in Anastasius’ second year, but then mentions it being in the 13th indiction, which would equate to 715 instead of 714, giving Anastasius a third regnal year he otherwise denies him. A follis from Ravenna bearing the legend ANNO III suggests that Anastasius did have a third regnal year, and therefore was still emperor after 4 June 715 (if the coin is of Anastasius). Theophanes is not the only one to make a dating error with regard to Anastasius’ deposition – the Chronicon Altinate puts it on 1 June 715, but has mixed up his deposition date with his execution in 719.59 It would seem that the twelfth-century Chronicle of Michael the Syrian produces the most likely length for the reign for Anastasius II: 2 years 5 months, stretching from 4 June 713 to November 715.60
Despite the ‘military anarchy’, we should not overlook the actual skills of the men who attained the imperial throne, however briefly, with Anastasius II appearing to be a ‘highly competent [emperor] … who took a firm grip on fiscal and military administration and prepared Constantinople for the coming Arab siege.’61 Perhaps partly due to this competence and Theodosius’ lenience in not enforcing any sort of physical mutilation, this was not the last we will hear of Anastasius II.
Was He Bovvered?: The 22-Month Reign of Theodosius III
Assigning the man who reigned as Theodosius III a 22-month reign is being a little generous, for while he was acclaimed in around May 715, he was not firmly on the throne, figuratively or literally, until his entrance into Constantinople possibly at late as November 715. It was possibly more of a 16-month reign, but even with this brevity and the lack of detail in the sources, Theodosius’ time on the throne saw important developments. The focus of much of the attention for the reign of Theodosius was the developing situation in Anatolia with the advance of the Arab expedition targeting Constantinople. Part of that situation was the fact that the civil war between Theodosius and Anastasius did not technically end with the surrender, abdication and exile of the latter. While they had provided little aid to Anastasius, the strategoi Leo and Artabasdos refused to capitulate to Theodosius, claiming to be continuing to resist in the name of the now-deposed emperor.
While his forces had been brutal towards parts of Constantinople, Theodosius III proved moderate in the face of his opponents, pardoning patriarch Germanos and then following his advice in allowing Anastasius II to live in monastic exile. He also quickly demonstrated his religious orthodoxy, restoring an image of the Sixth Ecumenical Council removed by Bardanes, while also removing images of the heretic emperor and his Monothelite patriarch. Somewhat optimistically, in recording this action, the Liber Pontificalis claims ‘that by the fervour of [Theodosius’] faith all dispute in the church ended.’62 This would also suggest that Theodosius sent a profession of his orthodoxy to the pope to further elicit such a positive reaction in Rome. However, this appears to be the height of Theodosius’ involvement in Italy, highlighting the increasing impotence of imperial authority on the peninsula.
The event from Theodosius’ reign with perhaps the most important legacy for the future of the Roman Empire, beyond the approaching storm in Anatolia, came in relations with the Bulgars. There had been Romano-Bulgar conflict of some sort since the Roman defeat at Anchialus in 708, and even if these Bulgars raiding Thrace were not from the khanate, the possible failure to pay pre-existing tribute payments under Bardanes led to a Bulgar khanate raid of Thrace in 712. It could be that skirmishing continued post-712, especially if Bardanes, Anastasius and Theodosius either refused to or could not pay the tribute. Continued raids would certainly provide a reason for the newly-enthroned Theodosius to look to negotiate a cessation of the conflict. Unfortunately, the exact circumstances of the so-called ‘Treaty of 716’ are not recorded and we are only informed of its terms due to the khan Krum seeking a re-establishing of it in his negotiations with the emperor Michael I in early 813. Strangely, Theophanes records the treaty and its terms for his entry of 812/813, but not for that of 716.
The terms in question established the boundary at Meleones in Thrace, [a tribute] of vestments and [dyed] red hides to the value of 30 lbs. of gold; furthermore, that refugees from either side should be returned to their respective homes even if they had plotted against their own rulers, and that those who traded in both countries should be certified by means of diplomas and seals: (anyone not having seals would lose) his assets which would be confiscated by the Treasury.63
These terms represent a Roman recognition of the Bulgar ownership in the Zagora region, and while the boundary marker of Meleones cannot be identified, it could be a geographic term, suggested as being a mountain peak in northeastern Thrace, possibly the summit of the Manastir Heights. While the Romans paying any sort of annual tribute to the Bulgars might seem strange, this was a reaffirmation of previous tribute arrangements conceded by both Justinian II in 705 and his father Constantine IV in 681. The Bulgars were also granted access to Constantinopolitan markets, although it was not unfettered with imports and exports requiring state seals and documents.
We might ask if Theodosius’ willingness to make peace with the Bulgars, ceding territory and promising further tribute payments to them, reflects not only the growing unease regarding the approaching Umayyad expedition against the imperial capital but also some rumours about the rebel strategoi Leo and Artabasdos coming to some arrangement with Maslamah. Indeed, the specific term regarding the exchange of refugees charged with conspiracy may not only be looking back to Bulgar involvement in the restoration of Justinian II and his failed repelling of the usurpation of Bardanes, but also the possibility of them aiding in any attempted overthrow of Theodosius III. Such Bulgar interference in Roman imperial politics had not only been seen before, it would be seen again in the very near future. And yet, even with that aspect of failure in the ‘Treaty of 716’, it would prove to be very advantageous for the Roman Empire. This was perhaps because the treaty not only shut down a frontier for the Romans to allow them to focus more of their military strength on the defence of Constantinople, it may have restored the alliance between Tervel and Justinian II. And the Roman Empire was soon going to need any friends it could get.
One other aside about the ‘Treaty of 716’ is a question over who was the Bulgar khan that Theodosius was negotiating with. It is usually considered to have still been Tervel, but there is discussion over the dates of his reign, with suggestions that it ended in 715, 718 or 721: this has the Romano-Bulgar treaty of 716 come under the aegises of Tervel or his successor Kormesiy.64 Our sources introduce further issues with what seems like a misidentification. When recalling the terms of the treaty, Theophanes records Kormesios as ‘the then lord of Bulgaria,’65 which is a definite error as Kormesios was the Bulgar khan during the early reign of Constantine V, around 753–756. The similarity between ‘Kormesiy’ and ‘Kormesios’ would make for an understandable error on the part of Theophanes or his source. There have been some attempts to rectify this inconsistency beyond it just being a misidentification, such as there being another Romano-Bulgar treaty between Constantine V and Kormesios which also used the ‘Treaty of 716’ and was being referred to by Krum in his negotiations with Michael, or even suggesting that Kormesios was long enough lived to have been a joint ruler with Tervel.66 There could have been some overlap between Tervel and Kormesiy, but it seems more likely that Tervel remained the Bulgar khan throughout the 710s, negotiating the ‘Treaty of 716’ with Theodosius III and then initiating the Bulgar involvement in the Arab siege of Constantinople, either through treaty obligations or other reasons.
If Theodosius had been thinking about peace with the Bulgars to facilitate a refocusing of more of his attention on Anatolia, it either came too late or he did not take full advantage of it. In early 717, an army appeared before the walls of Nicomedia, but it was neither the native thematic army of the Opsikon nor the vanguard of the Arab land expedition against Constantinople. Instead, it was the Anatolic army under the command of Leo the Isaurian, who had gone from ‘supporter’ of the previous emperor to a usurper claiming the throne for himself. Fortuitously, in taking control of Nicomedia, Leo captured Theodosius’ son. He then pressed on to Chrysopolis and entered into negotiations with the emperor. Faced with this Anatolic, Armeniac and even Arab-backed usurper on his doorstep, who also held his son as a hostage, Theodosius seems to have offered little in the way of resistance.
