Contrary to what its title suggests, this is neither a book about conversions as individual religious experiences and transformations nor about creeds (in the sense of ‘faith statements’) in early medieval Christianity. The individual motives for and the precise ‘mechanics’ of conversions (understood as changes of religious allegiance) in the West in this period remain in most cases obscure, simply because we possess no detailed autobiographical accounts such as those by Justin Martyr, Cyprian or Augustine from the Early Church. Following Andrew S. Jacobs, Marta Szada suggests a hermeneutical approach to conversion, proposing to ask ‘why the author employs conversion rhetoric, how it persuades within the text, and what interpretation and meanings arise from it’ (pp. 9–10). But, in fact, there is little such ‘rhetoric’ in the texts she analyses. In most cases, conversions are dealt with in a summary fashion by the early medieval historians or hagiographers. In most cases these authors simply state that a person or group (mostly belonging to the elite) converted from the ‘heretics’ or ‘Arians’ to the ‘catholic Church’ or vice versa. There is little the modern historian can do in this respect except present this scant evidence and, perhaps, suggest some more or less plausible scenario to account for the little information that we possess. Szada does this most effectively, often toying with different theories without finally committing herself, because more than one explanation may be plausible for someone’s changing their religious allegiance. But more than once it is simply frustrating that our sources are contradictory or give little or no historical context. To illustrate the point I quote Szada’s conclusions with regard to the (alleged) wife of Sigismund, king of the Burgundians (pp. 516–24): ‘All in all, Ostrogotho-Areagni might have had a dual name or not, might have been Nicene or not, might have been Sigismund’s wife or not; her name might have been linked to the empress’s name or not, and even if it was, it might have had religious meaning or not. And last but not least – even if all these assumptions were true, we still could not be sure if she had ever converted’ (p. 204).
Although welcoming Szada’s caution in discussing the evidence, I think that with regard to creeds or ‘faith texts’ she could have been a bit more daring. Yet she seems to shy away from doctrinal statements, a problem to which I will return below. In the end, what we find in this book is a tale of two denominations (Nicene and Homoian) occupying the same social and geographical space; it is a book about religious policies and, in particular, about religious tolerance, but also about competition, tensions and frictions in three different territories in which these denominations co-existed: North Africa, Italy and Gaul and Hispania. (Illyricum is not included, although ‘in the 560s, Pannonia hosted a functioning Homoian hierarchy’ [p. 139].)
In chs i–iii Szada describes the situation in North Africa under Vandal rule, then moves on to Ostrogothic and Lombard Italy (chs iv–v) before ending her geographical survey with the situation in Gaul and Hispania (chs vi and ix). This is interspersed by comparative chapters about family life in Gaul, Hispania and Italy (ch. vii) and a chapter which contains a plethora of information about conversions of kings and the role of the veneration of saints (ch. viii).
Szada convincingly demonstrates that one must be wary of simplistic accounts of the religious atmosphere in the early Middle Ages. Religious policies changed according to time and region; no single factor was responsible for conversions either way, and there was considerable room for manoeuvre between denominations. People were able to negotiate doctrinal differences to a surprising degree, in families, at work and even in the administration of the successor states to the Roman Empire. However, religious tolerance varied according to region: by and large, Ostrogothic and Lombard rule in Italy was more successful in handling religious difference than the Vandal kings in North Africa who tried in vain to impose Homoian orthodoxy. The overall picture resulting from this account is enormously complex. Szada uncovers these complexities with great patience and scholarly acumen.
None the less, at the end of the day it does not become entirely clear what the distinguishing marks of the ‘Nicenes’ and ‘Homoians’ were and, in particular, what actually distinguished them from each other. In fact, Szada’s brief description of both parties on pp. 4–5 is slightly flawed. The ‘Nicenes’ she is referring to were no longer first-generation Nicenes, defending the Creed of Nicaea, but the champions of the Creed of Constantinople of 381 and should, therefore, more accurately be called ‘Neo-Nicenes’. As regards the Homoians, Szada’s statement that homoios as used at the Councils of Rimini in 359 and Constantinople in 360 ‘was a non-committal formula designed to accommodate the variety of theological currents opposing consubstantiality’ (p. 5) would need further explanation. Although they both argued against the use of the term homooúsios, the Eastern Homoians were distinct from, and increasingly opposed to, the Neo-Arians (Eunomians), because the latter insisted on the dissimilarity between Father and Son. In the end the Neo-Arians formed their own Church in the 360s. It is very difficult to say what actually constituted the sense of identity of Homoianism, if it was not ethnicity (which Szada rejects). Clearly, doctrinal and liturgical differences must have played a major role in the respective self-definitions of Nicenes and Homoians, but, somewhat surprisingly, Szada shows little interest in these aspects (cf. pp. 276–7). In the last article before his death in 2010, Knut Schäferdiek summarised the relevant evidence (‘Ulfila und der sogenannte gotische Arianismus’, in G. M. Berndt and R. Steinacher, Arianism: Roman heresy and barbarian creed, Farnham–Burlington, Vt 2014, 21–43, not cited in the bibliography). He pointed out that we do have some first-hand information about Western Homoian doctrine. Furthermore, it made a difference whether in catechesis you memorised the Creed of Constantinople of 360 or that of 381, the latter perhaps including the filioque, or if at mass you prayed to the Trinity or to the Father alone or ‘through the Son in the Holy Spirit’. In addition, one major stumbling-block in the process of conversion was the fact that the Homoians practised rebaptism in these cases whereas the Western Nicenes, by and large, did not, anointing with chrism instead (cf. pp. 5–6, 102, 175, 205, 207, 245). For example, in Victor of Vita’s Historia persecutionis Africanae provinciae we find vivid accounts of forced rebaptisms that would have been worth a closer look (pp. 3, 46, 48–9) – Szada mentions these accounts only in passing (pp. 9, 65, 211).
Having said that, I wish to emphasise that Szada’s book displays an admirable learning both in the sources and in the secondary literature, which is presented in an elegant style. Her translations from Latin, where not taken from previous literature, are impeccable. Few books are missing from the bibliography, in particular Konrad Vössing’s comprehensive account of the Vandal Kingdom (Das Königreich der Vandalen: Geiserichs Herrschaft und das Imperium Romanum, Darmstadt 2014). It is hoped that Szada will continue to produce such careful studies.
