Hello to everyone reading this article. I’m excited to announce that I’ll be starting a new writing series! I’ve always loved reading history and hearing stories of the past. The people, the zeitgeist, and the individual experiences have always seemed so important to me, and I’ve never been able to get enough. As I’ve continued my never-ending journey of studying history, one significant historical phenomenon I’ve always found uniquely interesting are the men, women or groups who established new norms, “precedent-breakers,” and the stories these remarkable characters or groups lived.
You might be wondering what precisely I’m referring to when I say “precedent-breakers.” To sum it up concisely, I’m referring to important figures or groups of people who established a new norm away from what was traditionally expected in their part of the world. I plan on making this a running series. I don’t have concrete plans for a set schedule, but I reckon I’ll post about this series at least once a month. I think I’ve mentioned what needs to be said. So, without further ado, let me introduce our first precedent-breaker of the series.
Empress Irene of Byzantium!
What makes her our series’ first precedent-breaker? The fact that she was the first Empress of the Roman Empire to rule in her own right!
Before I tell Irene’s story, a little backstory first. It’s important to note that the Roman Empire was never a stranger to powerful women in the political realm. Chances are, if you’re familiar with the early history of the Roman Empire, you know that Emperor Nero’s mother, Agrippina, would attempt to become an empress in all but name, the true power behind the throne. This attempt by Agrippina would see some initial success on her part, but her actions would ultimately frustrate the teenage Emperor Nero enough to eventually order the murder of his own mother. It’s reported that Irene studied the lives of many powerful Roman women, especially the life of Agrippina. As will become apparent when I tell Irene’s story, Irene would take to heart the failure of Agrippina and ensure, in a dark reversal of what played out between Agrippina and her son Nero, that Agrippina’s end would never repeat between herself and her own son, Constantine the Sixth.
The information about Irene’s early life is scant. She was born in Athens sometime in the 750s to an influential Greek family. She was, by all accounts, described as beautiful and incredibly intelligent. It’s suspected that she found her way into the imperial family in what was the 8th-century equivalent of an imperial bridal show, where potential wives were displayed in front of Roman royalty, with brides chosen based on various factors. As luck would have it, Irene would marry Leo the Fourth in 769, who was heir to the Roman Empire at the time. Following the death of Leo the Fourth’s father in 775, Irene would be elevated to the rank of Empress beside her husband. Beginning her nearly three decades at the center of Roman power.
From the outset of her husband’s ascent to power, Irene would take an active role in government far in excess of what was expected of an empress during this time. During her husband’s reign, she was described as a gifted player of court politics, notably allying herself with the Roman Christian Orthodox Church. Her support from within the Orthodox Church was, however, quite controversial. She supported the veneration of icons in Christian life in a era where such behavior was persecuted under Roman law, which was extremely dangerous for Irene but earned her great rapport with large swathes of the persecuted iconophile population of the Roman Empire. She was also notably charitable to the lower-class population of the capital, further earning her the hearts and minds of many.
She would give birth to a son, Constantine the Sixth, in 771. For a woman attempting to become the leader of the Roman Empire, fortune clearly favored her as the birth of a healthy son secured Irene’s position in power, so long as her son remained alive. In 780, Irene’s husband, Leo the Fourth, became ill and suddenly died. Her husband’s death left Irene as Empress-Regent of the Roman Empire, as her son, Constatine the Sixth, was only 9 at the time of his father’s death, making Irene the most powerful person in the empire. Opponents of Irene’s regency would be quick to capitalize on her husbands unexpected death. Irene would demonstrate to those in the Imperial Court that she was not one to be trifled with.
Six weeks after Irene’s ascension to Empress-Regent, a conspiracy to oust Irene and her son was revealed to the her. The plot involved the imperial bodyguard and other major military units stationed near the palace, with these units declaring their loyalty to Constantine the Sixth’s Uncle and aiming to place him on the imperial throne. Not one to let fate do its thing, Irene would act swiftly, swiftly removing the leaders of the rebelling military units and replacing them with men loyal to her. She then forced Constantine’s Uncle and his Uncle’s four other brothers into becoming priests, which in Roman tradition meant permanent disqualification from becoming Emperor. To make sure that Constantine’s Uncles knew their place in this new political order, Irene forced them to serve communion on Christmas 780, where they reportedly were required to kneel in submission to Irene first and her son second.
As time progressed through Irene’s regency, it became more and more evident that she had no plans of stepping down once her son was of age to be Emperor. When new military commanders were assigned to their postings across the empire, they were required to swear an oath that had Irene’s name mentioned first and her son Constantine’s name second. Gold coins during the 780s showed Irene and Constantine standing side by side as equals rather than Constantine as a soon-to-be-Emperor and Irene as merely a stewarding Empress-Regent, ready to leave her position when her son was fit to rule.
It was reported that Irene dominated her son’s political and personal life. She made sure that Constantine was kept in luxurious isolation away from the levers of political power. She ensured that the heir to the Roman throne had no say or experience in any political matters while Irene served as Empress-Regent.
During the 780s, Irene would make one of her most remarkable contributions to history by officially bringing back the veneration of icons to Roman church life. This might sound rather dry, but the outlawing of icon veneration in the Roman Church had plagued the Romans with internal rebellion and political turmoil for decades; matters of faith were not taken lightly back then. Her steadfast support of icons led her to be declared a saint, with her feast day being August 9th, coincidentally the day I decided to post this article.
In 790, Irene would be suddenly removed from power. Like Emperor Nero seven and a half centuries before, Constantine began to chafe under his mother’s dominance. This would lead the then 19-year-old in 790 to stage a palace coup with the help of the Roman Anatolian Army. Unfortunately for the young Emperor, he didn’t follow the precedent of killing deposed Roman monarchs. Instead, he opted to banish his mother. This would prove disastrous for the young Emperor as geography didn’t diminish the pull Irene held on Constantine. During her time in exile, Irene reportedly sent many letters to Constantine. While the contents of these letters are lost to time, I suspect they were an attempt by Irene to convince her son to let her back into the capital. The letters must have worked wonders as following 2 years of exile, Constantine would allow his mother back into the palace, returning her many formal titles and putting her in a position of power second only to him.
Constantine’s love for his mother would prove fatal. Following Irene’s return to the imperial palace and center of Roman politics, she would slowly begin to accrue influence and allies loyal only to her. Five years after returning from exile, she initiated a coup to overthrow her son. Constantine fled the palace in fear for his life and from fear of his own mother. Irene’s supporters would find Constantine outside the capital and capture him. He was brought back to the palace, where Irene ordered the blinding of her own son. He would later die from the wounds he received from his blinding. As I mentioned before, the end of Constantine is mirrored by Agrippina and Nero, only this time, it is the mother doing the murder.
Irene would spend the following five years as the sole Empress and ruler of the Roman Empire, stewarding it with a relatively steady hand. She would meet the myriad military challenges that faced her empire competently and did a rather fine job ensuring domestic tranquility across her lands. Her continued dedication to the Orthodox Church led her to implement tax exemptions on church land, which, combined with a few other unpopular financial policies, had the unfortunate side effect of straining the empire’s economic power, a major cause leading to Irene’s overthrow. In 802, a palace coup led by her Minister of Finance would remove Irene from power and see her banished to the island of Lesbos. Irene would live on the island for a year before finally passing away in 803.
The fact that Irene was simply banished from the capital and not outright killed speaks volumes of the kind of gravitas and respect she garnered in Roman society. Most Roman monarchs that end up deposed would typically be killed or maimed to prevent their return to power, like the treatment Irene showed her own son. Her Minister of Finance, while clearly not a fan of her style of rule, must’ve respected Irene enough to see that she be given a favourable, if ignominious, way out of power, a luxury few deposed monarchs in Roman society would ever get to enjoy.
Her time as true Empress of the Romans would last for 5 years which might sound brief but speaks volumes of Irene’s political acumen and intelligence. Irene grew up in a famously turbulent era in Roman history. The empire was less than 170 years removed from being the sole superpower nation of the Mediterranean to losing three-quarters of its territories during the Islamic expansions of the 7th and 8th centuries. The Islamic expansion during this time fundamentally altered the worldview of the Romans and was seen and felt most acutely at its highest echelons of power. The prestige that buttressed the position of Emperor was gone from these humiliating losses of territories, and the “divine protection” that traditionally surrounded the Emperor and his people was clearly gone in the eyes of the people and the aristocracy, which led to the habitual overthrowing of ruling monarchs, right up to the time of Irene. For an Emperor to hold power for any time in this era was an incredible feat, making Irene’s sole hold on power for 5 years all the more incredible.
Irene is a fascinating figure. It takes incredible cunning and skill to survive the treacherous game of 8th-century Roman politics, doubly so if you’re attempting to become the first Empress in a society that had never had one before. However, the saying that power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely holds some bearing in light of Irene’s reign. She murdered her own son to maintain her hold on power, which requires a level of ruthlessness that I find hard to comprehend. The world of the 8th and 9th century isn’t exactly well-regarded for its glowing humanitarianism. Still, I imagine those who knew what Irene did to her son were more than a little disturbed that a mother could do that to her own flesh and blood. It’s ironic that Irene would be declared a saint within the Roman church, considering the rather unchristian treatment of her own son. Again, however, It’s also important to consider her ruthlessness isn’t an anomaly amongst Roman leaders. Four centuries before Irene’s time, Constantine the Great would have his son murdered, and he is remembered fondly amongst many for making Christianity the mainstream religion of the Roman Empire.
If I were to massively simplify Irene’s life, I would say she follows the trend of many great figures in times past. She accomplished great things for herself and her people but was cold, calculating and deeply selfish in regard to what needed to be done for her to stay in power. Her tale isn’t one of humanism, but then again, she grew up in a time and position where that idealism wouldn’t stand in the face of the constant turmoil surrounding the Romans. She did everything in her power to ensure the empire had a steady hand to guide it. Her nearly three decades at the center of Roman power tells us she must’ve done an exceptional job at this; as many a Roman Emperor and now Empress would tell you, the will of the people is a fickle thing at best.
Thank you for reading.
Till next time,
Rhys B.
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