This chapter discusses an oft-cited source of the All-Affected Principle in a procedural maxim of Roman private law known by the tag quod omnes tangit (‘what touches all’), a maxim that became a more expansive principle of medieval canon and civil law. By exploring some of the maxim’s original contexts and formulations, the chapter draws out several important lessons for the All-Affected Principle itself: the interplay between procedural and substantive claims; the empowerment of some to advance such claims on behalf of others; and the need for procedural closure. It then explores the possible application of this approach in the context of how climate change touches all and how claims might be made on the basis of the All-Affected Principle accordingly. Identification of moral rights to a fair per capita share of a global carbon budget, and rights against the unjust imposition of harm or the risk of harm, are both considered as potential sources of such claims. A range of possible institutional arrangements to advance and realize such claims, such as trusteeship, are briefly considered in conclusion.

Scholars generally assume that Procopius, the noted sixth century classicizing historian, was a misogynist who in his notorious Secret History belittled the impact Theodora and Antonina had on the Empire’s fortunes. In that work and his Wars, Procopius highlights the plight of women in the warfare of the reign of Justinian. How, then, are we to reconcile the seeming hatred of, for example, Antonina in the Secret History with the apparent empathy of the suffering inhabitants of Italy in the Wars? In this chapter the author explores the role of women in the military of the age of Justinian at both the top (amongst the officer class – Antonina) and the bottom (amongst the civilians and the rank-and-file) ends, through the gaze of Procopius, and in the process establish the female component of what is generally assumed to have been a wholly male space. Comparative evidence is abundant and includes such materials as the Code of Justinian; other sixth century texts such as those of Pseudo-Joshua the Stylite, Agathias, and Corippus; the papyri of Nessana (which detail the relationship between soldiers and civilians in late sixth century Israel/Palestine); and the material remains of Roman fortresses such as el-Lejjun.

Chapter 3 discusses the process by which Vandal Africa was transformed under Justinian’s reign into a province of the Roman Empire in which the Homoian presence declined and is no longer traceable in the sources. Our understanding of this development depends on two main aspects: the role of religious conflicts before and during the East Roman offensive on Africa and the measures (political, legal, ecclesiastical) taken to change the religious situation in Africa after the defeat of the Vandals.

Chapter 4 deals with Nicene–Homoian conversions in Italy under Ostrogothic rule. First it discusses the religious history of the Goths from the fall of the Hunnic empire to their triumph in the war with Odoacer, allowing us to better understand the nature of Gothic Homoianism in Italy and its relationship with the Nicene church. Then it examines conversions under Amal rule and the role of tolerance in their politics and ideology, and finally conversions between the Nicene and Homoian faith in the period of the Gothic War (535–54) and its aftermath.

A social history of Antioch under Justianian, amidst political turmoil and environmental downturns.

The walls of Antioch are the only visible memento of the ancient city. Continuously repaired and reconfigured, they encompass at least eight different phases. How these defenses document the transformation of the city through the ages is the core issue.

This chapter addresses the subject of sex in Constantinople in the sixth century CE, the heart of the Eastern Roman Empire. It draws on a range of rich evidence. A fundamental starting point is provided by the writings of the contemporary historian Procopius, in particular his comments in Secret History on the life and deeds of the empress Theodora, wife of the emperor Justinian I (527–565), who was an actress before marrying her husband. In addition it draws on the legislation of the emperor Justinian, the chronicle of John Malalas, erotic epigrams of the period, and Christian ascetic literature. From these writings strong ideals of right and wrong sexual behaviour emerge, revealing both traditional Roman values and the increasing Christianisation of society. This can create the impression that sexual activity was very tightly controlled, especially prostitution, extra-marital sex, and same-sex sex. However, it is apparent that life was less clear-cut. Justinian himself recognized that desire was a powerful impulse and that people did ‘sin’. It is also evident that people could enjoy thinking about illicit sex, and engage in it enthusiastically. Ironically, overtly Chistian texts could even incite the desire they sought to neutralize.

This chapter examines the ideological, political, and cultural significance of law in the East Roman empire in the ‘Age of Justinian’. It argues that imperial legislation was at the forefront of the political struggles and debates that characterised the era and suggests that knowledge of the law circulated much more rapidly and widely than has often been supposed, even reaching elements of the peasantry. The evidence for the circulation and dissemination of legal knowledge, it is suggested, raises important issues concerning the possible circulation and dissemination of political and religious ideas amongst non-elite strata of East Roman society at this time, and thus may be important for how we think about the broader reception of religious and doctrinal disputes.

Chapter 1 introduces the Iohannis and sets the book in its intellectual context. It discusses the particular difficulties associated with the epic and the different approaches scholars have adopted to it. It argues that the poem cannot be read as an extended panegyric and suggests that the poet was motivated to address the perceived shortcomings of imperial rule, rather than simply to celebrate recent military victories. The chapter provides a survey of the chapters to follow and closes with a detailed summary of the narrative of the Iohannis itself.

Caroline Humfress explores the distinctive relationship between sacred (Christian) temporality and (Western) ‘hermeneutics of the state’, through a focus upon the founding texts of the Civilian legal tradition: the sixth-century CE Digest, Code and Institutes. Part 1 analyses the Emperor Justinian’s claim that these law-books were to be ‘valid for all eternity’ through a series of close textual readings of the same law-books’ prefatory constitutions. Part 2 contextualises Justinian’s lawyerly invocation of ‘eternity’ within contemporary Eastern Christological disputes, including a set of theological debates, orchestrated by Justinian himself, that took place at the same time (and location) as his law-books were being compiled. Part 3 concludes by arguing that the ‘timeless’, rational, universal, authority of the Civilian Legal tradition – as explored in the chapter by Ryan – was in fact underpinned by a specific Eastern (‘Byzantine’) sacred temporality.

This chapter traces the gradual unwinding of the Notitia system in response to the shifting strategic needs of the east Roman empire. Anastasius began the process by deploying the praesental armies to the east, first against the Isaurians and then against the Persians, but it was Justinian who fully dismantled them. Beginning with his creation of a new military command for Armenia and continuing through the establishment of a standing field army for North Africa and Italy, Justinain cannibalized the praesental armies and dispersed the striking power of the armies of Oriens, Thrace, and Illyricum. The consequences of Justinian’s decisions were keenly felt by his successors who struggled to defend the empire against escalating threats in the Balkans and the east. By the time Herakleios came to the throne, the Romans could barely muster three field armies, those for Thrace, Armenia, and Oriens, and it was these depleted armies that Herakleios used to defeat Persia and lay the basis for the thematic armies of Byzantium.

The main question scholars have asked about the coutumiers is the extent of ‘penetration‘ or ‘influence‘ of Roman law on customary law. That there was influence is an undeniable fact. While the history of the coutumiers is undoubtedly connected to and overlaps with Roman law, this chapter challenges current historiography, which places Roman law at the centre of the development of written custom. Instead of asking how well an author knew his Roman law or how much of it was used in each text, this chapter looks more widely at citation practices, to establish what authorities were used and with what reverence they were treated. The citation practices in the coutumiers betray their authors’ confidence vis-à-vis the more august Roman law. These authors used learned law in service of their own projects but did not feel bound by its authority – unlike university thinking that famously placed Roman law in the middle of the page and medieval commentary in the marginalia. Roman law was certainly an important source for some coutumiers, but rather than treat it reverentially as an authority their authors used Roman law to build something new, lay, customary, and vernacular.

This chapter considers what we know about climate in ancient Greece and how this structures our thinking. The issue of very different local environments and interannual variation is observed, both its challenges but also the potential for exploitation. The question of whether and when climate can be related to history is then discussed –the case of 541 CE and the plague under Justinian is considered as an example of what we do and do not know – and some of the main climate proxy evidence available for ancient Greece are briefly reviewed. The Greek to Roman period is mainly notable for a relatively benign and stable climate regime over a number of centuries.

Modern legal systems are by and large very similar across most countries on earth. A widespread opinion ascribes this similarity to common heritage from Roman law, because this law (as codified under the Roman emperor Justinian 529–34 CE) was so useful. This is not, however, fully correct. Countries living under law originating in Europe share the same methods of legal argumentation, share many principles and categories, and also have a vast mass of procedural rules and substantive law in common. That conformity, however, did not come about by directly adopting legal rules or doctrines from Justinian. Instead, Christians all over Europe lived under the learned canon law of the Roman Church, whose lawyers from the late twelfth century adopted doctrines of medieval Roman law whenever there existed no appropriate ecclesiastic rules. Roman law regained importance in the Middle Ages through canon law; this is why Roman doctrines so often still survive.

In De jure belli ac pacis, Grotius constructs international law with the vocabulary of private law. For this purpose, he uses distinctions from the Institutes of Justinian and the Digest, but redefines key concepts of Roman law, such as natural law or law of nations (jus gentium). In doing so, he uses a method that is typical for humanist jurisprudence. On the one hand, he describes history, on the other hand, he renews the traditional system of law and adapts the law to the needs of his own day and age.

What is the legacy of Grotius’ doctrinal efforts, and how did they impact on current structures of international law? Was he providing a natural law foundation for the global order, or rather an instrument of power for sovereigns to assert their political and commercial dominion over the world?

After thirty years of Ostrogothic rule in Italy (493–534) that ended with the ensuing destruction of the Gothic War (535–54), the eastern emperor Justinian sought to reassert direct control over Italy. The sixth-century Wars of Procopius vividly describes three sieges and two sacks of Rome during the course of this war. But the focus of this chapter is rather on Roman recovery in the aftermath of the war. I emphasize the constitutions in an underappreciated document from this period, Justianian’s Pragmatic Sanction. These enactments, along with texts and material evidence, show how damaging the Justinianic reconstruction of Italy was to Rome and senatorial aristocratic society. In this vacuum, the popes of Rome took on an ever-greater secular role, as the letters of Pope Pelagius show.