A Tale of Two Coins: Power, Propaganda, and the Year of Six Emperors

Rebeka Costa Brabo
Mythology Journal
Published in
10 min readOct 1, 2024

From Military Might to Fragile Hope in Rome’s Year of Chaos

Two coins, two men, one year. In 238 CE, Rome’s empire was not just fighting enemies at its borders but tearing itself apart from within. As soldiers marched under new banners and emperors rose and fell, coins like the ones in my collection became more than money — they were symbols of power, war, and fleeting hope in a world unraveling.

This period, known as the Year of the Six Emperors, wasn’t just a power struggle. It marked the beginning of a deeper crisis for the Roman Empire, one that would last decades and see constant battles for the throne, foreign invasions, and economic strain. Historians call this wider era the Crisis of the Third Century — a window of nearly 50 years when it seemed the tragedies and threats to the empire would never end. A time when the empire almost fell apart entirely. We discussed this period in my last article, Coins of Crisis.

The emperors who rose to power during this period often didn’t come from Rome’s political elite, like the majority of their predecessors. Instead, many were soldiers, hailed by their troops after proving their worth in battle. Maximinus Thrax, one of the six emperors of 238 CE, was the first of this kind — a giant of a man, both in stature and in ambition (according to the notoriously unreliable Historia Augusta). His rise from the ranks of the army set a trend that would continue for years to come.

In the Roman Empire, like the majority of governments that came after it, coins weren’t just money. They were political propaganda. When an emperor minted coins, he was making a statement. It ’s one of my favorite things when looking at an ancient coin — I ask myself: what statement did they try to make here? What was their message to the people of Rome?

In my collection, I have two coins from this pivotal year. One shows the stern face of Maximinus Thrax, projecting the power and authority of a man who fought his way to the top. The other features Gordian III, a young boy placed on the throne as a symbol of hope after months of turmoil.

These coins, minted during one of the most dramatic years in Roman history, offer a glimpse into the emperors’ attempts to navigate a world of shifting loyalties and constant threats. Through them, we can explore how these rulers tried to hold onto power in a time when it was slipping away from them at every turn. Let’s dive right in.

Maximinus Thrax: The Soldier-Emperor and His Coin

Maximinus Thrax, born of humble origins in the rugged frontier of Thrace (modern Bulgaria), rose to power in a way that would shape the future of Rome: through sheer military force. His reign from 235 to 238 CE marked a shift in how emperors came to power, where strength in battle was more valuable than noble birth. Known as the first of the “barracks emperors,” Maximinus was chosen by his troops, and his coin reflects this very image: that of a man forged in war and respected by the sword.

Denarius of Maximinus, obverse.

Looking at the obverse of my coin, you see the battle-hardened face of Maximinus Thrax. His bust is adorned with a laurel wreath, the traditional symbol of Roman victory, which was s standard symbol on the silver Denarius. The inscription around the edge reads IMP MAXIMINVS PIVS AVG, abbreviating his titles: Imperator Maximinus Pius Augustus.

Denarius of Maximinus, reverse.

On the reverse, the image of the goddess Fides Militum, or “Loyalty of the Soldiers,” takes center stage. She holds two standards, the very symbol of Rome’s legions. This imagery wasn’t subtle: Maximinus owed everything to the army, and this coin was a reminder to the troops — and to Rome — that his power came from the legions. By minting coins with Fides Militum, he was making a clear statement: this was an emperor who ruled through strength.

Historical context and propaganda insight

Maximinus, being the first emperor to rise directly from the ranks of the army, used this to his advantage. The imagery on his coins was carefully chosen to reflect his origins and to appeal to his greatest source of power: the military.

By placing the image of Fides Militum on the reverse, he was reinforcing the message that the army was behind him, and by extension, so should the empire. This wasn’t an emperor lounging in a palace in Rome; this was a man who had fought alongside his soldiers, and the coin made sure to emphasize that.

Yet, this heavy reliance on military power was also Maximinus’ downfall.

As this coin passed through the hands of soldiers stationed on the Roman frontiers, unrest was building behind the scenes. While the army revered him, the Roman Senate and the elites resented him. They saw his military-first approach as a threat to the stability of Rome’s political traditions.

The emperor’s priorities, so effective in rallying the troops, alienated the upper classes, who yearned for a return to the more diplomatic and traditional forms of governance.

The high taxes and property confiscations Maximinus imposed to fund his campaigns against the Goths created deep resentment, especially in the provinces. In North Africa, a revolt was brewing — a spark that would soon ignite the Year of the Six Emperors. Even though the silver denarius in my hand carries the imposing face of an emperor who projected strength and control, it also shows a man who couldn’t stop the looming rebellion.

The Gordians: A Brief Spark of Hope

As dissatisfaction with Maximinus Thrax bubbled over, the Roman province of Africa became the flashpoint for rebellion. In March of 238 CE, Gordian I, an elderly senator, and his son, Gordian II, were declared emperors by local elites who were fed up with Maximinus’s heavy taxation and autocratic rule.

The Gordians represented a brief glimmer of hope for a return to traditional Roman governance — where the Senate and aristocracy had a say, not just the legions. But this spark of rebellion flickered out almost as quickly as it ignited.

Roman province of Africa, where the rebellion against Maximinus started.

The Gordians’ reign was shockingly short — lasting a mere 20 days — and the story of their rise and fall is written not just in history books, but also in the rarity of their coins. In fact, the absence of Gordian I and Gordian II in my collection is a silent testament to the fragility of their rule.

Coins were one of the first things emperors minted when they seized power, a way of announcing to the empire: I’m in charge now. But the Gordians had barely begun to distribute their coins when their rebellion was crushed.

Though the Senate eagerly threw its support behind the Gordians, seeing them as champions of Roman tradition, their failure to win over the military sealed their fate. Capelianus, governor of a neighboring region, invaded Africa with the only legion located in the entire area. The resulting battle ended with the death of Gordian II. Upon hearing the news of his son’s demise, Gordian I committed suicide. Game over.

The Senate’s Gamble: Pupienus, Balbinus, and the Youthful Hope of Gordian III

After the swift downfall of Gordian I and II, Rome found itself in yet another crisis. Maximinus Thrax was marching on Rome, and the Senate, desperate to regain control, made a bold move. They installed two new emperors — Pupienus and Balbinus — in a power-sharing arrangement that looked good on paper but quickly deteriorated into distrust and infighting.

While all this was happening, Maximinus had set for Rome in a long winter march. But he would never make it to his destination. Following some losses in battle and facing the bitter winter, his own troops mutinied and assassinated him.

Maximinus was emperor for only 2 years, during which time he never set foot in the capital city of Rome as its ruler.

And yet, his demise wasn’t enough to secure a path forward for the empire. It became clear that neither Pupienus nor Balbinus could unite the empire, even after Maximinus was out of play. And so, the Senate turned to a third figure, someone who could symbolize stability in the chaos: a 13-year-old boy named Gordian III.

Gordian III, the grandson of Gordian I, was not a warrior like Maximinus or even an experienced statesman like Pupienus and Balbinus. But he had something that the others didn’t — an untainted image. His youth and family ties to the Gordians made him a popular figurehead, and the Senate believed they could use him to unite the people. This is where my coin of Gordian III comes into play, offering a glimpse into the new hope he represented for Rome.

Coin analysis

Look closely at this silver antonininus of Gordian III. The contrast between this young emperor and Maximinus Thrax couldn’t be starker. On one side, you have Maximinus, the embodiment of military power — a battle-hardened man whose image was designed to intimidate. On the other, Gordian III, youthful, and idealized. His portrait on the coin radiates innocence, even fragility, with a calm expression that projected a sense of renewal and hope after months of violent upheaval.

Antonininus of Gordian III, obverse.

The inscription around him reads IMP GORDIANVS PIVS FEL AVG, abbreviating his titles as Imperator Gordianus Pius Felix Augustus. Here, Pius Felix emphasizes Gordian’s piety and blessed fortune, traits that contrasted sharply with the brutal, soldierly image of his predecessor.

Antonininus of Gordian III, reverse.

On the reverse of the coin, we see Fortuna, the Roman goddess of fortune and fate, seated and holding both a rudder and a cornucopia. These symbols represent the promise of a steady hand guiding Rome’s future (the rudder) and the hope of prosperity (the cornucopia). The inscription FORTVNA REDVX reinforces this message, signaling the “return of fortune.”

This imagery was a deliberate choice, reflecting the hope that with Gordian III’s ascension, the empire would return to a period of peace and stability after the chaos of Maximinus’s rule and the brief reigns of Pupienus and Balbinus.

Historical context and propaganda insight

Gordian III’s coin was designed to symbolize more than just youthful innocence; it was meant to project the idea of renewal and continuity. After a year of such rapid turnover in leadership, the Roman people were exhausted, and the Senate knew they needed a figure who could unite both the military and the civilians.

Gordian III, with his unblemished image, was the perfect choice. His coinage widely circulated through the empire not just as currency, but as a signal to both soldiers and citizens that Rome was entering a more stable phase.

His youth, far from being seen as a weakness, was portrayed as a strength — a chance to shape the future of the empire with fresh energy. In contrast to Maximinus’s warlike imagery, Gordian’s coin suggested that the empire could rely on good fortune and the steadying hand of the Senate to guide it forward.

Gordian III was only a child when he ascended the throne, which meant he wasn’t in control in the way other adult rulers were. The real power lay behind the scenes, especially with figures like Timesitheus, his highly capable Praetorian Prefect, who directed much of the empire’s military and political affairs during Gordian’s reign.

His coinage was part of a broader narrative — one that aimed to reassure the empire that stability, even in uncertain times, was within reach.

Ultimately, Gordian III’s reign was one of precarious balance. Though he lasted longer than many expected, the empire as a whole was still on shaky ground. His coinage, however, remains a testament to the momentary hope he inspired during a year of such intense crisis.

Conclusion: Coins as a reflection on the year of six emperors

In the Year of the Six Emperors, coins were more than just currency — they were tools of legitimacy, propaganda, and power. Maximinus Thrax’s coin reflected his reliance on military strength, an image meant to secure the loyalty of the army. However, this very emphasis on brute force alienated the Roman elite, revealing his disconnect from traditional governance.

In contrast, Gordian III’s coin symbolized hope and renewal. His youthful portrait, paired with the image of Fortuna, projected a return to peace and stability after months of chaos. His coin was the Senate’s attempt to signal a fresh start for the empire, though it, like his reign, rested on fragile foundations.

Now, we come to the heart of why so many people love collection coins — they are historical narrators. In this case, they tell the story of power, struggle, and fleeting hope in a year of turmoil. Each coin, etched with the image and message of its emperor, offers a glimpse into Rome’s desperate quest for stability during one of its most chaotic years.

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Rebeka Costa Brabo
Mythology Journal

SEO specialist with a passion for finance and ancient history. Works in the crypto industry and is in love with fintech. Avid investor and coin collector.