How Europe became Christian

Review of The Conversion of Europe: From Paganism to Christianity, 371-1386 AD by Richard A. Fletcher

During the last 2000 years, perhaps the most fundamental transformation in Europe was the conversion of pagans into Christians. This subject fascinates me and I have been seeking a full explanation since my days as a classics civ major. To put it mildly, explanations are legion, ranging from the purely theological to psychological and sociological removes. So far, none of them seem satisfactory to me.

Fletcher’s book takes a sociological approach, grounded in historical examples as proof. He starts by asking, who Christianity was for? This was essentially a question of whether Christianity was for the Roman Empire alone – guarded and promoted as a strictly internal and unifying creed – or whether it was also the business of the state and its evangelists to attempt to spread its doctrines everywhere as missionary preachers. The former was the initial view of the patriarchs in Constantinople, who would later found the Greek Orthodox Church, while the latter was that of the west, as argued by Augustine, the most important Catholic theologian of his time. Notably, the eastern position represented an ideological consolidation of the state – us versus those outside their borders. Shades of totalitarianism. Eventually, the Augustinian view won out, but Christianity remained a potent instrument of political power.

In the very beginning, Christianity was largely an elite, urban phenomenon, in particular promoted by influential women in the royal and aristocratic courts. The conversion of Constantine in 312 CE was an example of this: his mother was Christian and had long worked to convince him to adopt the new faith. His conversion was personal, providing official permission for those who wished to convert; it essentially ended the periodic discrimination against Christians, but conversion was by no means mandatory. It was only with the imperial ascension of Theodosius in 379 that Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire. Interestingly, Fletcher does not emphasize that Constantine’s conversion, at a difficult moment for the Empire, was also a way to consolidate his political power and legitimacy as the special representative of God on Earth.

At that point, the Augustinian view of evangelism was applied to the rural provinces, which remained overwhelmingly pagan. This took the form of the establishment of institutions, largely with monasteries, throughout the Empire and sometimes even beyond its borders, as in Ireland. Monks served as holy men, who would preach to the pagans in the countryside, provide feasts as well as some literary culture, and officiate over domestic ceremonies and administration. With many aristocrats and notables entering Christian service, these institutions provided a dynamic new venue for elite careers. Crucially, they plowed their wealth into the Church while pagan institutions were defunded by the state and later actively suppressed. Over several generations, they began to work their way into everyday life, largely by habit, rarely by coercion in this early stage. Theologically, Christianity remained relatively fluid in the 4^th-6^th centuries, with many competing sects, such as the Arians.

Once the western portion of the Empire collapsed, Germanic and other tribes swept into the political vacuum left behind. Many of them, such as Theodoric, had had close association with the eastern portion of the Empire (labelled Byzantium by historians) and considered themselves Christian; however, most were Arian, which was a “heretical” sect that believed Jesus was a “created man”, hence not divine. The Christian barbarians continued to rely on established institutions to administer and hold onto power. As a result, their religion was passed on in the Germanic dialects, that is, Christianity no longer held as a monopoly of the Roman languages, Latin and Greek; this was, Fletcher informs us, a crucial sign of Christianity’s wider acceptance as well as its suitability in terms of propagation.

For the pagan barbarians, conversion tended to follow the pattern of women consorts and courtiers influencing their men to adopt the Christian faith. For example, in 508, Clovis was baptized into Catholic Christianity on the insistence of his wife, Clotilde. He was a warlord who had united the Franks and needed to consolidate his power and authority. Many of his opponents rallied to pagan leaders, which Clovis vigorously suppressed, leaving Christianity triumphant and indeed, his victory indicated that its Godhead was superior to those of the pagans. Of course, this fit into the Christian narrative and was subsequently immortalized by a monk, Gregory. These converts are referred to as the “New Constantines”. For others, the conversion was a sign of their acceptance of, or desire to demonstrate their adherence to, Roman culture.

When Christian warlords began to expand out of their territories, in many cases they attempted to coerce the conversion of pagans, often with mixed results. Under Charlemagne, the Franks made religious conversion of the Saxons one of their priorities in a series of brutal conquests. In other instances, pagans could choose to convert as a way to access wealth, technologies, and organizational expertise – this represented an attraction of wealth and power, perhaps equally powerful to military conquest. Fletcher argues that even during the dark ages, Rome-influenced areas were richer and better organized than their pagan counterparts.

Eventually, Christianity became deeply ensconced in the countryside, viewed as part of the everyday backdrop beyond its official functions and religious roles. The Church’s approach was largely, if loosely, syncretic, absorbing certain local traditions into its rituals and occasionally, pagan beliefs; this led to an extraordinary diversity in how priests conducted themselves – many were married and conducted quirky religious rituals. From about the 6^th Century, the Christian Church began to consolidate itself, setting standards for rituals and rules, such as the abandonment of the drinking-horn chalice in England, but it was only several centuries later that the Roman Church attempted to seriously standardize these practices.

In the upheavals that were to follow, the Church was at times the only local authority to survive intact. At the time of the Viking and Islamic invasions, it became an ideological instrument of war. In particular, as he created and consolidated the Holy Roman Empire, Charlemagne employed Christianity as a unifying force and conduit through which to propagate his edicts and orders. Jews and Muslims bore the brunt of this violent period, though many of their communities were allowed to operate intact. In the aftermath of the Crusades, the split between the eastern Greek Orthodox Church and Rome became irreparable.

Firmly established by the 11^th Century, the Greek Orthodox Church exerted a strong influence in central and northeastern Europe. While there were many incidents of destructive competition with Rome, increasingly the eastern Church went its own way. An influential monk, Cyril, was instrumental in adapting an alphabet for the evolving Slavic languages. Like the translation of Roman texts into Germanic dialects, the acceptance of the Cyrillic alphabet in Rus had a momentous impact, bringing a version of Greek Orthodox theology (Hesychasm) into the developing Church; it was pessimistic and mystical, a reflection of the deteriorating position of the Byzantine Empire, as it faced pressure from aggressively expansive Turkic Empires. By the end of the 14^thCentury, the whole of Europe had been converted.

If there is one crucial thing that is missing in Fletcher’s book, it is an extended examination of the psychological aspects of the conversion process. Indeed, he argues that it is a mistake to search for the subjective experience of the individual, that is, the “born again” transformation that is seen today as integral to evangelical conversion. This assumption regarding the conversion experience, he believes, is attributable to William James, the Harvard philosopher and psychologist of the late 19^th Century; in this view, James created a kind of fictional projection that is applicable to very few of the early converts. In reality, Fletcher argues, the conversion experience of rural pagans was in most cases banal, copying what the notables dictated to the lower classes as the proper conduct, particularly during their sponsored feasts. While there was some resistance, Christianity in this view was just the most viable option available, the best way to gain certain privileges that aristocrats could bestow. Instead, Fletcher emphasizes Christianity as a persistent “solvent” of traditional beliefs, eroding and replacing them.

Fletcher defines these solvents as “proximity to, interaction with and movement into a culture which is perceived as enjoying a more advanced civilization (in terms of wealth, technology, order, authority and so forth)”. In other words, outside of outright imposition, converts wanted to join a superior culture. An additional incentive for hitherto pagan princes was to gain control over the advantages on offer, enhancing their power, wealth, and the success of their political mission, presumably the security and prosperity of their subjects. That culture was initially Christian Rome, then the relatively more prosperous and organized medieval states that emerged after the fall of the Empire. (Many scholars would disagree with that assumption: economic historians have argued that there was a deflation of 98% from the 5^th Century.)

In my opinion, Fletcher’s sociological perspective offers a partial, and necessary, explanation, but it neglects far too much to be taken as the final word. On the one hand, I wonder, why were many women of the court decisive advocates of conversion? The obvious answer is that something fundamental was missing from existing polytheistic religions within the Empire. Moreover, Fletcher fails to mention the innumerable communal groupings that were springing up within the Empire, discreetly worshipping in a manner of their choosing – and at no small risk to themselves. In other words, they found new meaning in Christianity, whether psychological or theological. Even an atheist like me can admit that.

On the other hand, I think Fletcher deemphasized the power dilemma that conversion to Christianity appears to have solved. Much like Christ, Christian rulers were anointed by God, hence in a very concrete sense they should gain legitimacy, at best in an unquestionable mandate. Conversion elevated Constantine into a new kind of absolute ruler at a time when the institutional foundation of the Empire remained shaky, after a century of near-incessant civil war. Indeed, he ruled much more like an oriental despot than a law-obeying constitutional Emperor. 

In spite of these shortcomings, this is a very good book, ranging over the 1,000-year period it took for the last European country, Lithuania, to convert. It was the last crusade, in 1386. Throughout the text, there are fascinating mini-biographies of both secular and religious leaders as they navigated political crises, often finding solutions dependent on conversion to Christianity. There is a great deal about what theologians were thinking and what they accomplished. If you are interested in the subject, this is a must-read.

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