Abstract
This paper proposes an analysis of the labarum, a military banner introduced by Constantine the Great during his campaign against Maxentius (AD 310–312) as a “charismatic object”. It briefly examines the origins of the banner, its function, and its transformations over time. The paper argues that, originally, the labarum acted as the material embodiment of Constantine’s charismatic leadership, his mystical visions and military victories. Moreover, it worked as a focus of his personal charisma and a totem to rally his supporters. In later years, the Christian interpretation of the labarum as God’s talisman gained popularity, and Constantine tried to use it to transfer his authority to his sons. After Constantine’s death, successors and usurpers copied and displayed the labarum to claim Constantine’s prestige. Yet, in this process, they weakened the charismatic aura of the banner. The Theodosian emperors of the fifth century completed this process, transforming the labarum from an exceptional talisman of war into a traditional symbol that represented the Christianised ideology of Roman imperial triumph.
1 Charismatic Objects
In the last decade, scholars interested in the study of religion and material culture have started to use the concept of “charismatic objects” to designate some extraordinary items that could be understood in the framework of Weber’s theory of “charisma”.1 The Weberian concept of “charisma” denotes a kind of personal authority and legitimacy of an extraordinary nature, based on the attribution of supernatural or superhuman qualities to an individual.2 The notion of charismatic objects developed from the “material turn”: a renewed academic interest in material culture with new approaches towards materiality that emerged in the 1980s, such as the discussions around agency and art.3
Accordingly, Christopher Wingfield used the term “charismatic object” in 2010 to explain the nature of the Buddha statue exhibited in the Birmingham Museum & Art Gallery, which provoked a high degree of human response.4 Anne Taves also used the term discussing non-ordinary magical objects.5 In 2018, Marianne Vedeler placed the term in the scholarly debates about social agency, defining charismatic objects as material things that could arouse awe within a given cosmological frame; objects that are believed to be powerful, and, thus, things with cultural-specific agency that may become “acting forces” in history.6 Furthermore, in 2019, Martin Radermacher addressed the theoretical foundations of the concept and considered its use to analyse the Christian cult of relics. He related the idea of charismatic objects with Walter Benjamin’s concept of “aura”: a feeling of awe and reverence towards art, with Bruno Latour’s notion of “fetish”, and the debates surrounding the agency of things and material religion. Radermacher argued that the concept is useful to understand the agency of objects, when religious communication explicitly addresses this agency; when narratives describe the object in ritual practice, performing miracles or being sacred.7 Moreover, it is relevant to highlight that the notion of a “cosmological frame” and the emphasis on communication are crucial, since, in these current approaches, the concept of charisma is not understood as a force inherent to the charismatic individual or object but as a relational phenomenon: a characteristic that is created through social relations, attitudes, practices and language within a specific cultural context.8
Radermacher used the concept of charismatic object to understand why and how Christian relics work. Nevertheless, here I propose applying it to a particular object: the labarum of Constantine the Great. Charismatic objects are material things that, given a particular cosmological frame, could cast a strong aura of extraordinary power and awe. In terms of methodology, this approach simultaneously considers the materiality of the objects, the narratives constructed around them, and their sociocultural meanings. According to Vedeler, “These [charismatic] objects are carriers of collective narratives that help to stabilize, maintain, and create community and relationships of power”, and quoting Radermacher: “just like the communications around an object are powerless without the object, the object is powerless without these narrations. Both mutually enhance their respective socio-cultural agency”.9 The term is linked with a methodological focus on material culture, narratives, agency, religion and power. Accordingly, this paper shows how the concept helps to clarify the origins, function, and evolution of the Constantinian banner.
2 The labarum and Its Origins
The life of Constantine (VC), written by Eusebius of Caesarea around AD 336–339, contains the earliest written mention of the labarum. The reference in this narrative is directly associated with the story of the Battle of the Milvian Bridge (AD 312), and with Constantine’s alleged vision and conversion, which linked the object with one of the most debated and over-interpreted episodes in the history of Late Antiquity. The present paper attempts to examine the nature of Constantine’s labarum without diving into the “conversion debate” more than necessary. Scholars have questioned the VC’s narrative based on several inconsistencies with earlier sources. Nevertheless, beyond some specific discrepancies, all the literary and iconographic sources suggest that, at some point during the civil war against Maxentius (AD 310–312), Constantine introduced a new symbol as an emblem for his army.10
The exact shape and meaning of this emblem are not completely clear. Based on one coin issued by Constantine and Eusebius’ description, it seems that the object was some sort of monogram affixed to a Roman military standard of the vexillum type.11 The Christian narratives attributed a spiritual meaning to the emblem, which Eusebius described as a “cross-shaped trophy of salvation” and linked with Constantine’s conversion. In this interpretation, the monogram usually represents some variation of Christ’s name.12 However, numerous scholars have questioned these narratives as later fabrications, suggesting that – at least originally – the monogram represented some pagan solar symbol.13 The word labarum – first attested in the chapter heading added by the first editor of the VC – is of apparent Celtic origin, possibly linked with the significant presence of Gauls and Britons among Constantine’s troops.14
It seems that, in its origins, the new emblem represented a general idea of a victory granted by a “supreme divinity”, and it was related to the different accounts of visions and dreams experienced by Constantine during his campaign against Maxentius. It is impossible to establish for sure if the object had, in its origins, an exclusively Christian or pagan meaning for Constantine or his army. Considering that Constantine’s supporters included some Christians, but also numerous pagans and followers of different cults, it is likely that the labarum began as an ambiguous sign of “divine victory” that allowed various interpretations for different groups.15 Yet, if the emblem initially lacked a clear Christian meaning, it is likely that between the war against Licinius (AD 316–324) and the later years of Constantine, the interpretation of this banner as a Christian symbol became more popular.16
3 The Banner’s Use and Function
Regarding the use and function of the Constantinian standard, the VC is the only “contemporary” source. In the context of the war against Licinius, which Eusebius represented as a conflict between Christianity and Paganism, the VC narrates that the labarum led Constantine’s army, and that wherever the banner was present, it filled the soldiers with strength and energy while causing their enemies to flee.17 It also says that the emperor appointed fifty of his best bodyguards to carry and protect the labarum. According to Eusebius, Constantine personally told him several miracles of the banner, such as arrows never touching the standard-bearer, except for one who once abandoned it and died immediately.18 Thus, Eusebius portrays the labarum as a powerful Christian talisman that protected Constantine’s troops and granted them victory in battle. Considering this and the numismatic evidence, it is likely that the reverence of Constantine and his troops towards the labarum evolved from the Roman tradition of the signa militaria and other similar practices. From ancient times, the Romans venerated their insignia and attributed to them a sacred status. Around the second century A.D., a cult of the standards developed among the Roman imperial army. In a few narratives, the Roman banners are even described as the focus of divine portents.19 However, before the labarum, Roman military standards were usually described as an emblem of the Republic, the army, or specific military units, without a direct link to a specific leader or the emperor.20 Moreover, the Romans had never attributed the incredible powers of the labarum, as described in the VC, to their banners.21 On the other hand, while some Christians had probably started using Christian signs as apotropaic amulets since the second or third century, there was no precedent in the Christian tradition for an object such as the labarum.22 Nevertheless, in his Church History, Eusebius compared the defeat of Maxentius with the drowning of the Egyptian Army in Exodus 14, and in the VC, right after telling the miracles of the labarum, he compared Constantine to Moses.23 Consequently, it seems that Eusebius attributed to the labarum a similar function that the Ark of the Covenant or the Rod of Moses had in the Old Testament; a holy talisman that acted as the focus of God’s intercession in war. Constantine’s vision gave the object a miraculous origin, and his victories worked as a divine sanction of his actions.24 While it is unclear to what extent Constantine, or the rest of his contemporaries, shared the Eusebian interpretation of the labarum as the Christian version of an Old Testament talisman, it is likely that it gained popularity as a post facto explanation during the later years of Constantine’s reign.
According to the VC, Constantine entrusted the original labarum to his bodyguards. In the later iconographic evidence, the standard and the Chi-Rho are always associated with the emperor or his bodyguards. Based on these facts, several scholars concluded that the labarum served as Constantine’s personal banner.25 Yet, Eusebius claimed that the ruler sent copies of his standard to all his armies and that it always led his forces. Moreover, in a later passage, Eusebius said that the emperor made “the saving trophy to be marked on their shields” and that only the labarum and not “any of golden images” or “golden statues” led the army. The apologist Lactantius, writing several years before Eusebius and referring to the war against Maxentius, described Constantine’s troops marking their shields with the Chi-Rho monogram.26 Eusebius and Lactantius probably did not have an accurate or detailed knowledge of the Roman army, and the intention of their works was to show God’s power rather than a precise description of the events or practices of the army. Nevertheless, the use of the labarum and the Chi-Rho symbol is attested in several iconographical sources, and thus, there must be some factual basis to their narratives. It is possible that, following the introduction of the labarum in the war against Maxentius, some of Constantine’s troops marked their weapons with a similar symbol, following traditional amuletic practices common among ancient cultures.27 In the years following the victory at Milvian Bridge, the monogram became a permanent design and distinctive emblem of Constantine’s personal bodyguards, displayed on their shields, helmets, or uniforms. During the war against Licinius, Constantine made copies of the original labarum to be carried by his armies. The troops, accustomed to the traditional Roman cult of the standards and other amuletic practices attributed great powers to the banner, so the labarum – and the monogram represented in it – became associated with Constantine’s military victories, prestige and divine favour.28
Eusebius’ description of the labarum holds one key clue for clarifying the function of the banner. According to the VC, the portraits of the emperor and his sons were later added to the standard.29 The Roman legions used to carry an image of the emperor, which was a way of evoking the presence of their supreme commander in his absence. The imperial image received honours and oaths from the soldiers.30 Accordingly, it is possible that, in the campaign against Maxentius, the labarum was a personal banner of Constantine, carried only by his personal guard. Yet, later, during the war against Licinius copies of the banner, with images depicting Constantine and his sons, were sent to all his forces, to evoke the presence of the emperor and to inspire the troops when he was not leading them personally. Consequently, it seems that Constantine’s labarum aligns well with the definition of a “charismatic object”: an artefact that, within a certain cosmological frame, is considered animated by magical or holy powers, and can cast a strong aura of reverence and awe.31 The literary sources describe the banner as capable of inspiring courage and strength in the troops, granting them victory. According to Eusebius, this was not just a “psychological” effect: Constantine told him stories about the labarum working as a supernatural protective amulet, shielding his men from physical harm. Moreover, it seems that Eusebius suggested a parallel between the banner and the Rod of Moses, which implies that he understood the labarum as a focus of divine power, a sacred talisman of war with miraculous properties.32
According to Vedeler, one of the possible sources of the charismatic quality of an object is the transference of power from the classical “charismatic leader” to the object.33 Constantine conforms perfectly to the idea of a “charismatic authority”: a leader followed by his exceptional personal qualities, whom both his pagan and Christian supporters considered “touched” or “chosen” by divine powers, like Julius Caesar or Alexander the Great. The narratives of dreams or visions bring Constantine closer to the figure of the prophet or the mystical warlord, like Moses or Muhammad. In this sense, it is no accident that Eusebius compared Constantine to Moses, a traditional example of charismatic authority. While the fourth-century Bishop clearly did not know Weber’s concept, he surely saw parallels between the Biblical character and the emperor.34 Vedeler also argued that charismatic objects work as carriers of collective narratives. The labarum banner was the material embodiment of the story of Constantine’s divinely inspired vision and victory.35 Thus, during the war against Maxentius, Constantine used the labarum as a material expression of his divinely inspired visions, a focus of his personal charisma that acted as a totem to rally the unity of his diverse supporters – Christians and non-Christians – behind his leadership and boost their morale with an apotropaic talisman.36 In the following years, the copies of the labarum with images of Constantine worked as reminder of the victory at the Milvian Bridge. They were a portable memorial of the always victorious divus Constantine, the invictus emperor who shines like the sun.37 The copies of the banner sent to different armies acted as instrument to project some of Constantine’s personal charismatic authority and prestige beyond his physical presence.
Eusebius tells us that Constantine attached images of his sons to the labarum.38 Constantine probably added these at some point between AD 317 and AD 336. One copper coin of AD 326–327 shows the labarum with three discs on the cloth of the banner, and the obverse of the coin includes the names of Constantine and two of his sons.39 Scholars have interpreted these discs as representations of the portraits of Constantine and his sons. The attachment of the images was probably an attempt to transfer Constantine’s authority and prestige to his sons, securing the continuity of his dynasty.40 Nevertheless, as Weber pointed out, charismatic authority primarily arises from the leader’s personal attributes and, thus, by its nature, the transmission of this authority is often problematic.41
4 The labarum Among Constantine’s Successors
There is not much evidence about the labarum or its use in the period of civil wars that followed Constantine’s death (AD 337), except for the numismatic iconography. The representation of explicit Christian signs and the labarum became much more frequent on coins of this period.42 The Christogram started to appear regularly inside the labarum. Some coins began depicting standards accompanied by the Greek letters
There is some limited evidence that the religious iconography of the standards became a polemical issue during the reign of Julian “the Apostate” (AD 361–363). The Christian sources probably distorted the nature of Julian’s policy and exaggerated its relevance.47 Nevertheless, these narratives still indicate that the presence of Christian iconography had become common on the military banners by the mid-fourth century, which is confirmed by its frequent appearance in the numismatic record. Therefore, it seems that a gradual process of Christianisation of the signa militaria began with Constantine and developed significantly with his successors. The house of Valentinian, which ruled after the reigns of Julian and Jovian, restored the favourable position that Christianity had held under Constantine and his sons.48 Since the early years of the new dynasty, their coinage shows a recurrent use of the labarum motif, featuring either the Chi-Rho monogram or the cross.49 Additionally, it seems that between AD 360–380, the Christogram and the cross became interchangeable symbols to represent the Constantinian sign and the idea of Christian imperial victory associated with its legacy.50 Nevertheless, the scarcity of references to the actual object is noteworthy. While Gregory Nazianzen and one hagiographic text mention Christian banners, there are not many more allusions to them until the early-fifth century, and certainly nothing comparable to the descriptions of Eusebius. Moreover, except for Cyril’s letter, which describes a vision of the cross in the sky as a sign of victory, nothing in the evidence of the period suggests that rulers, clerics or soldiers considered the Christian banners to be miraculous talismans. Thus, it is likely that, in the decades following Constantine’s death, with different pretenders and rulers copying the labarum and using it recurrently as their emblem – and some of them losing battles while carrying the standard – the belief in its exceptional miraculous properties declined.
The original labarum was a charismatic object strongly associated with the figure of Constantine, which derived much of its prestige and aura from him. Weber argued that charismatic authority is inherently difficult to transmit. Upon the succession of a charismatic figure, his authority becomes either traditionalised or rationalised – or a combination of both – through routine, a process known as the routinisation of charisma.51 Accordingly, charismatic objects can work as instruments to store and transfer authority, but if they are not “recharged” by specific events the routinary use or the reproduction of the object risks losing its special aura.52 The successors of Constantine used copies of the labarum to harness some of his charisma – and the prestige associated with his visions and military victories – to build their own legitimacy. Some of them were partially successful; they achieved power and consolidated the alliance between Christianity and the imperial office. Yet, in the process, they transformed the labarum from an exceptional and miraculous talisman of war into a traditional symbol representing the idea of Christian imperial victory.
Finally, it is likely that Theodosius the Great (AD 379–395) and his successors led a revival of the labarum as part of a wider propaganda campaign that sought to legitimise their rule by associating their house with the first Christian emperor. Theodosius I was a soldier-emperor, who personally led his troops under the labarum and thus could easily be presented as a “new Constantine”.53 Moreover, it is likely that his victories rejuvenated the military prestige of the labarum “recharging” its charismatic nature. However, none of Theodosius’ successors led his armies personally, always entrusting them to experienced generals, and they made extensive use of labarum in their official art, coinage and propaganda.54 Thus, under the “sedentary emperors” of the fifth century, the idea of God-granted triumph became an intrinsic attribute of the imperial office, instead of a consequence of concrete historical victories.55 In this way, the routinisation of the labarum was completed, and the banner became one the traditional symbols of the Christianised Roman ideology of “triumphal rulership”.56
5 Conclusions
The labarum was a military standard of the vexillum type, which Constantine introduced during his war against Maxentius as a sign of divine favour towards his rule. This notion probably evolved from the Roman tradition of the signa militaria as venerated sacred objects – which were considered the focus of divine portents – and other similar amuletic practices. It is unknown if the labarum had, in its origins and first years, a distinctive pagan or Christian connotation. It was likely an ambiguous symbol, representing the notion of victory granted by a “supreme deity” which could be interpreted differently by the various supporters of Constantine. Following the Old Testament, Eusebius of Caesarea – and possibly other Christians as well – understood the labarum as a new Rod of Moses or Ark of the Covenant: a miraculous talisman that acted as the focus of God’s power in war, protecting and giving victory to the faithful. The Christian interpretation of the labarum probably gained popularity between the war against Licinius and the last years of Constantine’s reign.
Accordingly, we can understand the labarum as a charismatic object, a material artefact that Constantine’s followers considered animated by holy power, and which cast a strong aura of reverence and authority. Belief in apotropaic magic and amuletic practices – widespread in the ancient world – and, more specifically, the Roman cult of the standards offered the “cosmological frame” for this interpretation. In this context, Constantine transmitted some of his own charismatic authority – and the prestige associated with his mystical visions and military victories – to the labarum. He made copies of it for his armies, attaching his image to the banner, to project his personal charisma beyond his physical presence, and he included images of his sons to transfer his authority to his successors.
While it is unknown what happened to the original labarum, the artistic representation of the banner – and probably the military use of its copies – became popular in the period of civil wars that followed Constantine’s death. The successors, usurpers and pretenders of the throne displayed the labarum to associate themselves with Constantine, attempting to gain some of his charismatic authority. In this period, the Christian understanding of the labarum became the hegemonic interpretation, and it seems that a gradual Christianisation of the Roman military standards took place in the second half of the fourth century. Yet, following Constantine’s death, the recurrent reproduction of the labarum, and its regular use, weakened its exceptional nature as a charismatic object and prompted a routinisation of the item, transforming it into a traditional imperial symbol. The house of Theodosius led a revival of the labarum. The propaganda of the court sought to present this imperial family as the rightful heirs of Constantine, the first Christian ruler, and the display of the labarum was part of a strategy of gaining legitimacy and prestige by association. Yet, while Theodosius the Great commanded his troops in real victories, none of his successors led their armies in person, and they still depicted themselves with the labarum. Thus, the banner became one of the main symbolic and material expressions of the Christianised ideology of Roman imperial triumph. Therefore, the Theodosian rulers completed the transformation of the labarum – which began after Constantine’s death – from a charismatic miraculous talisman of war, into a traditional symbol of the Christian Roman Empire.
Acknowledgement
I would like to thank the academics and students of the Centre of Late Antique, Islamic and Byzantine studies (CLAIBS) of the University of Edinburgh for their commentaries and suggestions when I presented an early version of this paper in the “Late Antique lunch”.
Biography
Joaquín Serrano del Pozo is a historian specializing in Late Antique and Byzantine culture, with a focus on medieval war from a sociocultural perspective, Christian relic veneration, and the interplay between literary, material, and iconographic sources. Originally from Chile, he earned a BA and MSt in History at the Pontifical Catholic University of Valparaíso before completing a PhD at the University of Edinburgh, where he explored the use of Christian relics in Late Roman and Byzantine war. His academic training includes Byzantine Greek, palaeography, and digital humanities, with research visits to institutions like the British School at Athens. Currently, as a postdoctoral fellow at the University of Tübingen, he is expanding his research to explore the political and military use of Christian relics across the medieval euro-Mediterranean world with a comparative perspective (AD 600–1200).
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Taves, Ann, “Non-Ordinary Powers: Charisma, Special Affordances and the Study of Religion”, in: Mental Culture: Classical Social Theory and the Cognitive Science of Religion, edited by Dimitris Xygalatas and William W. McCorkle, 80–97. Religion, Cognition and Culture. Acumen Publishing, 2013.
Töpfer, Kai Michael, Signa Militaria: Die römischen Feldzeichen in der Republik und im Prinzipat, Regensburg: Schnell & Steiner, 2011.
Vedeler, Marianne/Ingunn, Marit Røstad/Siv, Kristoffersen/Zanette Tsigaridas Glørstad (eds.), Charismatic Objects: From Roman Times to the Middle Ages, Oslo: Cappelen Damm Akademisk, 2018.
Viermann, Nadine, Herakleios, Der Schwitzende Kaiser: Die Oströmische Monarchie in Der Ausgehenden Spätantike, Berlin-Boston: Walter de Gruyter GmbH, 2021. http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/ed/detail.action?docID=7014867.
Viermann, Nadine, “Merging Supreme Commander and Holy Man. George of Pisidia’s Poetic Response to Heraclius’ Military Campaigns”, in: Jahrbuch der Österreichischen Byzantinistik 70 (2021): pp. 379–402. https://doi.org/10.1553/joeb70s379.
Weber, Max, Economy and Society: An Outline of Interpretive Sociology. Edited by Guenther Roth and Claus Wittich, Berkeley, California: University of California Press, 2013.
Weinstein, Minna F., “The Problem of the Succession in the Roman Empire”, in: The Historian 24, no. 1 (1961): pp. 84–102.
Weiss, Peter, “The Vision of Constantine”, in: Journal of Roman Archaeology 16 (2003): pp. 237–259. https://doi.org/10.1017/S1047759400013088.
Wingfield, Christopher, “Touching the Buddha: Encounters with a Charismatic Object”, in: Museum Materialities: Objects, Engagements, Interpretations, 2013. https://doi.org/10.4324/9780203523018.
Woods, David, “Julian, Arbogastes, and the Signa of the Ioviani and Herculiani”, in: Journal of Roman Military Equipment Studies 6 (December 1995): pp. 61–68.
Vedeler et al., Charismatic Objects; Radermacher, ‘From “Fetish” to “Aura”’.
Adair-Toteff, ‘Max Weber’s Charisma’; Weber, Economy and Society, chap. 3.
Gell, Art and Agency; Hoskins, ‘Agency, Biography and Objects’; Kirchhoff, ‘Material Agency’; Drpić, ‘The Enkolpion’.
Wingfield, ‘Touching the Buddha’, pp. 53–70.
Taves, ‘Non-Ordinary Powers’, pp. 80–97.
Vedeler et al., Charismatic Objects, pp. 10–28.
Radermacher, ‘From “Fetish” to “Aura”’, pp. 166–190.
Radermacher, ‘From “Fetish” to “Aura”, p. 177: “Charisma (…) is an attribute that is ascribed to persons and objects in social communication. It is a relational phenomenon that needs both the social ascription and confirmation of something or someone as charismatic and the person or thing in question affording and being receptive to this ascription.” Vedeler talks about “cultural-specific agency”: Charismatic Objects, 1.
Vedeler et al., Charismatic Objects, p. 28; Radermacher, ‘From “Fetish” to “Aura”’, p. 184.
Regarding the “conversion debate” and the questioning of the Christian sources: Burckhardt, The Age of Constantine the Great, pp. 258–335; Grégoire, ‘La “Conversion” de Constantin’; Grégoire, ‘La Vision de Constantin “liquidée’; Grégoire, ‘L’authenticité et l’historicité de La Vita Constantini Attribuée à Eusèbe de Césarée’; Jones, Constantine and the Conversion of Europe; Alföldi, The Conversion of Constantine and Pagan Rome; MacMullen, Constantine., pp. 72–78; Baynes, Constantine the Great and the Christian Church; Barnes, Constantine and Eusebius; Elliott, The Christianity of Constantine, pp. 61–72; Weiss, ‘The Vision of Constantine’; Odahl, Constantine and the Christian Empire, pp. 98–120; Shean, Soldiering for God, 61: pp. 258–277; Barnes, Constantine; Flower, ‘Visions of Constantine’; Stephenson, Constantine: Roman Emperor, Christian Victor, pp. 182–187.
Eusebius, VC, I, 28–31; 40; II, 3–7; RIC VII, 19; 26; The British Museum, Inventory N °: 1890,0804.11; Rostovtzeff, ‘Vexillum and Victory’, 92–106; Egger, Das Labarum, die Kaiserstandarte der Spätantike, pp. 3–26.
Lactantius, DMP, XLIV, 5; Eusebius, VC, I, 28–31; 40; II, 3–7; Eusebius, HE, IX, 9, 10.
Rostovtzeff, ‘Vexillum and Victory’; Bruun, ‘The Victorious Signs of Constantine’; Weiss, ‘The Vision of Constantine’; Flower, ‘Visions of Constantine’; Girardet, ‘Der Kaiser und sein Gott’, pp. 30–52; Barnes, Constantine, pp. 75–80; López Sánchez, ‘Under This Signs You Shall Be the Ruler!’, pp. 139–158.
Several scholars have suggested a Celtic etymology of the word, Rudolf Egger was one of the first to develop the argument, more recently taken up by Weiss and Barnes: Egger, Das Labarum, pp. 4–21; Weiss, ‘The Vision of Constantine’, pp. 254 et seq.; Barnes, Constantine, p. 78.
Egger, Das Labarum, pp. 3–26; Bardill, Constantine, Divine Emperor of the Christian Golden Age, pp. 202–222; Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, pp. 50–58.
Bardill, Constantine, pp. 305 et seq.; Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, pp. 50–58. Girardet and Barnes argued that the labarum started in AD 310 as Pagan symbol but it was Christianised in the following years. For Charles Odahl, the labarum was Christian emblem from its origins. Paul Stephenson suggested that the labarum was made for the war against Licinius: Odahl, ‘Christian Symbols on Constantine’s Coinage’; Odahl, Constantine and the Christian Empire, pp. 98–120; Girardet, ‘Der Kaiser und sein Gott’, pp. 32–42; Barnes, Constantine, p. 80; Stephenson, Constantine: Roman Emperor, Christian Victor, pp. 182–187.
Eusebius, VC, II, 3–7. It is likely that Constantine’s propaganda presented the defence of the Christians – and the defence of religious freedom – as a justification of his war against Licinius, but the real relevance of the religious aspect in this war is dubious.
Eusebius, VC, II, 8–9.
Hebblewhite, ‘Standards, Cult Of’; Töpfer, Signa Militaria. According to John. F. Shean: “Constantine’s adoption of the labarum as the standard of his army represented the insertion of Christian symbolism into the traditional army cult of the standards.”: Shean, Soldiering for God, p. 269.
It would seem that, from the first or second century A.D., the imperial image began to be added to Roman military standards. It is likely that the labarum developed as a combination of the cult of the imperial image and the cult of military standards: Hebblewhite, ‘Standards, Cult Of’; Töpfer, Signa Militaria, pp. 18–35.
In ancient Roman narratives, it is common for military standards to inspire courage and heroic deed in the troops, but more as a psychological than a supernatural effect. In a few episodes, banners are involved in propitiatory portents (Tacitus, Annals, 2, 17), but they are never depicted as objects with a great supernatural power of their own, as the Constantinian labarum: Töpfer, Signa Militaria, pp. 29 et seq.
Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, pp. 27–41.
Eusebius, HE, IX, 9, 2–5; VC, II, 12.
The use of the Old Testament as a model for Christian rulers was a common Byzantine and medieval tradition that started with Eusebius depiction of Constantine the Great: Rapp, ‘Old Testament Models for Emperors in Early Byzantium’, pp. 182–184..
Cameron, The Last Pagans of Rome, pp. 104–107; Stephenson, Constantine: Roman Emperor, Christian Victor, pp. 182–187. Constantine disbanded the old praetorian guard and replaced it by a new unit, which probably became the Scholae Palatinae: Jones, The Later Roman Empire, 284–602, p. 54, 614–614; MacMullen, Constantine., pp. 45–49..
Eusebius, VC, I, 31; IV, 20; Lactantius, DMP, XLIV, 5.
Bonner, Studies in Magical Amulets; Egger, Das Labarum, pp. 3–26; Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, pp. 3–80; Porto, ‘Material culture as amulets’, pp. 492–502.
Shean, Soldiering for God, 61: pp. 217–277; Bardill, Constantine, Divine Emperor of the Christian Golden Age, p. 220; Hebblewhite, ‘Standards, Cult Of’; Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, pp. 50–77.
Eusebius, VC, I, 31.
Hebblewhite, ‘The Signa and the Imperial Imagines’; Töpfer, Signa Militaria, pp. 18–35.
Vedeler et al., Charismatic Objects; Radermacher, ‘From “Fetish” to “Aura”’, pp. 166–190.
Eusebius, VC, II, 8–9, 12. Eusebius, HE, IX, 9, 2–5. According to Cameron and Hall, the narrative about the construction of the labarum also evokes the making of the Ark of the Covenant, a Biblical war talisman: Cameron and Hall, Eusebius’ Life of Constantine, p. 205.
Vedeler et al., Charismatic Objects, p. 28. Regarding the Weber’s concept of charismatic authority: Adair-Toteff, ‘Max Weber’s Charisma’; Weber, Economy and Society, chap. 3.
The idea of Constantine as a case of charismatic leadership has been briefly addressed by some scholars: Drake, ‘The Impact of Constantine on Christianity’, p. 131; Kahlos, ‘Charismatic Leadership in Ancient Rome’, pp. 73 et seq.
Vedeler et al., Charismatic Objects, p. 28.
The followers of Constantine were a mix of Pagan and Christians, but also of Romans from different provinces and of several “Barbarians” troops, probably with various degrees of Romanisation.
The idea of divined-granted victory was a traditional “pagan” motif but compatible with Christianism. The Christian followers of Constantine clearly interpreted his visions, victories and titles in a Christian way, and it is likely that, in the later years of Constantine reign, this interpretation was gaining popularity. Yet, the idea of the always-victorious Constantine was also acceptable and familiar for his numerous non-Christian supporters: MacMullen, Constantine.; Elliott, The Christianity of Constantine; Stephenson, Constantine: Roman Emperor, Christian Victor; Barnes, Constantine; Bardill, Constantine, Divine Emperor of the Christian Golden Age.
Eusebius, VC, I, 31.
RIC VII, 19; 26; The British Museum, Inventory N °: 1890,0804.11.
In the Roman Empire, there was never a law or principle of hereditary imperial succession, and while hereditary succession was common in some periods, it was not the case in the decades before Constantine: Hammond, ‘The Transmission of the Powers of the Roman Emperor.’; Weinstein, ‘The Problem of the Succession in the Roman Empire’; Börm, ‘Born to Be Emperor’; Hekster, Emperors and Ancestors; Grainger, Roman Imperial Succession.
Weber, Economy and Society, chap. 3.
Kent, RIC 8, 32–49, 234–381, 459–596.
Bruun considers the use of the Greek letters
Constantine showed Eusebius the banner, and told him about it. Their conversation probably took place in the Imperial Palace of Constantinople, but it is unclear for how long the object remained there: Eusebius, VC, I, 31.
Bruun, ‘The Victorious Signs of Constantine’, pp. 48–58.
Cyril of Jerusalem, Epistula ad Constantium; Dam, Remembering Constantine at the Milvian Bridge, pp. 50–52.
Gregory Nazianzen, Oratio 4,66; Sozomen, HE, p. 5, p. 17, pp. 2 et seq.; Woods, ‘Julian, Arbogastes, and the Signa’, pp. 61–68.
Jones, The Later Roman Empire, 284–602, pp. 138–69, pp. 321–29; Soraci, L’imperatore Valentiniano I; Boeft, Ammianus after Julian; Grig and Kelly, Two Romes.
Kent, RIC 8, 8; Bruun, ‘The Victorious Signs of Constantine’, pp. 54–58.
Gagé, ‘
Weber, Economy and Society, chap. 3 (Sec. 5).. Regarding the “routinisation” of the Constantinian charisma: Chesnut, The First Christian Histories, p. 223.
The “authenticity” of charismatic objects is fundamental for their exceptional character and awe-inspiring nature: Radermacher, ‘From “Fetish” to “Aura”’, pp. 180–85. Thus, it was impossible for the reproductions and copies of the labarum to preserve the full charisma of the original object; they could have some of it, but not all.
Szidat, ‘Die Usurpation Des Eugenius’; Raspanti, ‘Clementissimus Imperator’; Millar, A Greek Roman Empire; Cameron, The Frigidus; Marzo, ‘The Battle of Frigidus (394 AD)’, pp. 51–63.
For instance, in the consular diptych of Probus, in the drawings of the lost column of Arcadius, and in all the coinage of the dynasty: Kelly, ‘The Column of Arcadius’, pp. 258–265; Cameron, ‘The Probus Diptych’, pp. 192–202; Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, pp. 72–80.
McCormick, Eternal Victory, pp. 47–64, pp. 100–130; Viermann, Herakleios, Der Schwitzende Kaiser; Viermann, ‘Merging Supreme Commander and Holy Man.’, pp. 379–381.
Gagé, ‘
