When Looks Could Kill: The Rise of Basil the Macedonian
Emperor Michael III crowns Basilikinos as co-emperor, 866 (Wikimedia Commons)
In Joseph Genesios’ tenth century chronicle, On the Reign of the Emperors, the medieval writer recounts a curious competition between the ninth century Eastern Roman emperor, Michael III, and one of his relatives, Theophilitzes, in which the two jockeyed to see who “would collect the most comely and brave youths” for their respective entourages. Michael’s was notorious for its drinking, gambling, and “licentious desires,” whereas Theophilitzes apparently strove to make his the most beautiful.
Like many Mediterranean civilizations preceding and concurrent to it, homosociality was the norm in the Eastern Roman world. It was a world in which outward appearances were believed to reflect a person’s interior character, where the men you spent time with defined the man that you were. As such, noblemen like Theophilitzes and Michael competed with one another to surround themselves with handsome and courageous “manly men” so that they could project their own masculinity. It seemed only natural that a young peasant named Basil, noted for his “manliness” and “strength of body,” would be fated to join their crews…
The Road to New Rome
Despite later genealogies attempting to connect him to Armenian kings and Constantine the Great, the Roman emperor Basil I was likely born around 830 AD to a non-descript farm family in the province of Macedonia. Like many others of his time, Basil left for Constantinople to find work to support his family back home. Founded by Constantine I as the capital of the Roman Empire’s eastern provinces, Constantinople was the most prosperous city in Christian Europe, and a boon to provincial peasants like Basil who hoped to advance their position in society.
As such, Basil arrived in the Queen of Cities with nothing but the clothes on his back and “a stick and a knapsack,” a phrase that Byzantinists Shaun Tougher and Mark Masterson cite as a crude euphemism for the lad’s genitalia, perhaps with a classical valence. Why would Roman chroniclers have chosen to highlight such a colorful detail? It may well be because Basil’s “stick and knapsack” were ultimately indispensible to his ascension through the ranks of Roman society. After arriving in Constantinople, Basil fell asleep on a monastery porch, but was later invited inside by one of the sanctuary’s workers, a man named Nicholas, who bathed Basil and enjoined with him the next day in a unique act of Byzantine homosociality: adelphopoiesis.
Adelphopoiesis, or brother making, was a ritual wherein two men became spiritual brothers through a priest’s blessing. The rite originated with early Christian monks who used to it to help organize their monastic communities, but it eventually entered practice amongst laymen as a networking tool to strengthen ties between families. While spiritual brotherhood did not sanction sexual activity between men, it was well recognized as a possibility, to the point that Roman authorities in later centuries complained how, “ritual brotherhood gives rise to many sins.”
The Eastern Roman Empire, often referred to today as Byzantium, ca. 864 CE (Wikimedia Commons)
Within this context, it isn’t unreasonable to conclude that Basil’s spiritual brother may have been interested in him for more than just his piety. In fact, one tenth century chronicle notes that Nicholas and Basil “rejoice[d] in one another” after bonding, much like a husband and wife “rejoice together” in the Book of Proverbs, a sensual Biblical reference medieval Roman audiences likely would’ve caught.
But Basil’s charm didn’t just capture Nicholas. The churchman reportedly introduced the young provincial to the emperor’s relative, Theophilitzes, who, impressed by his “manly looks,” employed Basil as his horse groom. It didn’t take long for Theophilitzes’ royal relation to fall for Basil for just the same reason.
Although stories of their meeting vary, Basil probably caught the Emperor Michael’s attention during an incident involving one of the latter’s royal mounts. According to the Vita Basilii, a biography commissioned by Basil’s grandson, Michael’s mount misbehaved during a hunt with Theophilitzes and his retinue, leading the Emperor to call for its execution. Basil, horrified to see such a remarkable beast killed, asked Michael to allow him a chance to tame it instead. Michael acceded and Basil accomplished the feat with legendary ease, jumping from his horse onto Michael’s mid-gallop, and was compared with Alexander the Great breaking in his steed, Bucephalus. The Emperor, at once “greatly pleased with Basil’s courage,” stole him from Theophilitzes’ entourage and put him in charge of his stables.
Palace Politics
Per The Chronicle of the Logothete’s telling, after Basil entered Michael’s orbit, “the emperor’s love for Basil grew.” Basil joined the young emperor on his military campaigns in the east, attended to him in court, married his mistress, and even became the Emperor’s private chamberlain, or parakoimomenos. The parakoimomenos, which literally means “sleeping at the side [of the emperor],” was a bedroom position reserved for eunuchs. Eunuchs throughout the history of the Eastern Roman Empire were pejoratively characterized as passive partners in bed, and in Late Antiquity were even ridiculed as being sexually licentious, a stereotype that may well have survived until Basil’s time. Coupled with Michael and his entourage’s own proclivity for “licentious desires,” one might suspect that Basil’s responsibilities as parakoimomenos demanded more than just sleeping.
Despite being reported as “depraved” in the mostly pro-Basil sources that survive to us, Michael was plausibly a competent, if not eccentric, ruler who kept the Empire afloat thanks to his deference to his uncle and co-emperor, Bardas. Their regime reestablished a university in Constantinople, galvanized the Christian conversion of the Empire’s Bulgarian neighbors, and led more than a few successful military campaigns against their Arab enemies in eastern Anatolia.
Given their martial achievements, the two planned an invasion of the island of Crete in the year 866. Before the fleet launched, however, Basil decided to put Michael’s loyalties to the test. He concocted a plan to remove Bardas from power by informing Michael that his uncle had conspired to murder him. Michael reportedly ignored Basil’s lies, as he’d no reason to distrust Bardas at the time. But Basil remained committed. After manipulating Bardas’ son-in-law to vouch for his lie, Michael’s devotion shifted to Basil in full. Thus on the day the expedition to Crete was supposed to sail, Michael ordered Basil to ambush Bardas in the imperial tent, butchering the kaisar at his nephew’s feet. Michael called off the assault on Crete and crowned Basil co-emperor in his place.
The noblewoman Danielis being conveyed to Constantinople from the Madrid Skylitzes 12th century manuscript (Wikimedia Commons)
Becoming Basileus
While desire made Basil successful in ascending the Roman hierarchy, it swiftly threatened to upend him. Not a year after elevating Basil to co-emperor, Michael found a new favorite to replace him, a handsome oarsman named Basilikinos.
One source claims Michael announced to the Roman Senate how he wished he’d chosen this man to rule alongside him rather than Basil; another states that Michael had Basilikinos stand up during an afternoon at the chariot races and try on his tzangia, a pair of scarlet shoes reserved for the emperor alone. Michael then exclaimed to Basil how, “they suit him better than they suit you!”
Whatever the tale, one thing remains clear: Basil’s desirability had slipped. Rather than wait for Basilikinos to formally supplant him, Basil decided to ply Michael and his new boy-toy with a night of heavy drinking. While the two slid into their cups, Basil covertly slipped out of the dining hall, and broke the lock on Michael’s bedroom door, setting the stage for his bloody ascent.
Once Michael and Basilikinos finally retired to sleep, Basil and his allies burst into the bedroom and attacked, hacking off Michael’s hands before running him and Basilikinos through with their swords. At dawn Basil summoned the Roman Senate in the Hagia Sophia, and was acclaimed alone as Basileus ton Romaion: Emperor of the Romans.
Far from a great queer love story, Basil’s relationship with Michael is a testament to desire’s deadliest potentialities. But their tale also reflects the unique place same-sex desire held in Eastern Roman society: it could formalize ties between families through rituals like adelphopoiesis, be flexed by noblemen like Theophilitzes to project their masculinity, or welcomed by nobodies like Basilikinos to improve their social standing.
Perhaps most notable of all is that Basil’s tryst with Michael, and his subsequent nineteen-year long reign, suggest that same-sex desire could serve as a legitimate avenue of acquiring power in the Eastern Roman Empire.
Further Reading:
Masterson, Mark. Between Byzantine Men: Desire, Homosociality, and Brotherhood in the Medieval Empire. London: Routledge, 2022.
Morris, Stephen. When Brothers Dwell in Unity: Byzantine Christianity and Homosexuality. Jefferson: McFarland & Company, 2016.
Rapp, Claudia. Brother-Making in Late Antiquity and Byzantium: Monks, Laymen, and Christian Ritual. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016.
Ringrose, Kathryn M. The Perfect Servant: Eunuchs and the Social Construction of Gender in Byzantium. University of Chicago Press, 2004.
Tougher, Shaun. “Michael III and Basil the Macedonian: Just Good Friends?” In Desire and Denial in Byzantium: Papers from the 31st Spring Symposium of Byzantine Studies, 149-158. Aldershot: Ashgate, 1998.
About the Author
Harrison Voss is a native New Yorker and recent college graduate. He has published research and essays on the Eastern Roman Empire, Classical Athens, and Roman poetry, and several short stories set in antiquity. When not writing, you can find him running, reading, or scrolling through Twitter.