If you want to know what a Byzantine philosopher looks like, then look no further than Michael Psellus (1018-c.1078). This remarkable philosopher and polymath became the centre of intellectual and indeed political life in Constantinople, and initiated a renewal in Platonism and classical Greek learning. John Duffy from Harvard states that “There was no other Byzantine intellectual as many-sided and productive as this renaissance man of the eleventh century,” while Mary Whitley from Oxford goes so far as to call him “one of the brightest luminaries of the entire Byzantine era.”
Psellus was born in Constantinople with the baptismal name of “Constantine”. He took on the name “Michael” when he (reluctantly) became a monk later in life, and he was given the nickname of “Psellos” (Ψελλός) because of his stammer. Psellus lived in truly precarious times. In 1025 the reign of the great Basil II had come to an end. He had ruled for almost 50 years, and he left behind an empire that was in excellent shape.
The future for Byzantium looked bright. But by 1080 the empire was in serious trouble. One incompetent emperor after another led to great political strife and instability, and a series of external attacks resulted in rapid loss of control in the Asian and Balkan territories. All the while, and somewhat strangely, the arts and culture thrived. The 11th century was a period of great, even unprecedented, learning. There was a heightened awareness of the importance of education and the classical past, a new originality and daring appeared in Byzantine literature, and as Warren Treadgold testifies “authors and artists had become more numerous and better trained than before, while their readers and patrons had become not only more numerous and more sophisticated but richer.”
The leading contributor to this revival was Michael Psellus. Although his parents were only moderately well-off, he received an outstanding education. He himself states that in his 25th year he had two goals: to perfect himself in the art of rhetoric, and to purify his soul by means of philosophy. He goes on to say that he studied Aristotle and Plato, and then moved on to Plotinus, Porphyry and Iamblichus, finally arriving at “the most wonderful Proclus”, his favourite philosopher. He was lucky enough to be introduced to the treasures of ancient Greece by the celebrated teacher and court rhetorician, John Mauropous, who was to become a metropolitan and then a monk. Mauropous was a keen student of ancient literature, and in one of his poems he describes himself as “living among books like a bee among flowers, nourishing myself on words like a grasshopper in the dew, content to live only in the present.”
He even composed a prayer begging God to admit Plato and Plutarch to heaven because they were good men who had lived before the Christian era. The young Psellus was also fortunate to enjoy the company of a small group of intellectually gifted friends, who would all go on to have distinguished careers in the state and the church – for example, his friends John Xiphilinos and Constantine Leichoudes would become patriarchs.
Psellus himself rose to great heights in the civil administration. Under emperor Michael V (1041-42) he was appointed imperial secretary, and when Constantine IX ascended the throne in 1042 Psellus became increasingly influential in state affairs. Indeed, it was Constantine IX who selected Psellus to head the Faculty of Philosophy when the long-closed University of Constantinople was reopened in 1045. Psellus was given the title “Consul of the Philosophers”, and he taught all branches of philosophy.
If Psellus is to be believed, his classes became famous, attracting students from all corners of the globe. As he states with characteristic lack of humility in one of his letters: “The Celts and Arabs came under our sway, men from the other continent journeyed here because of the report of our fame… And if you happen to talk with Persians or Ethiopians, they will say that they know and admire me, and have come in pursuit of me; and now one from the borders of Babylon has arrived, with untamed zeal, to drink at my springs.” Psellus’ star was rising, but just as quickly it came crashing to the earth. In 1054 the infamous schism with the papacy took place, when the rigorous Michael Cerularius (the patriarch of Constantinople) and Cardinal Humbert from Rome mutually excommunicated each other. Cerularius was also behind Psellus’ downfall. Liberal and self-made intellectuals like Psellus came under increasing opposition from the aristocratic faction of Cerularius, and when Psellus and his friends could no longer be assured of imperial patronage they were left with only one option: to flee. Psellus and his friends therefore went into monastic seclusion at Mt Olympus.
This is when Psellus added “Michael” to his baptismal name, but the life of the monk was not for him. When empress Theodora came to the throne in 1055, she recalled Psellus to the capital to serve as her Prime Minister, and he continued in this influential office during the reign of his former student, emperor Michael VII Ducas (1071-78). When Michael was deposed, Psellus was again forced into exile. He left the capital and lived in poverty, dying a lonely old man forgotten by the new generation. But he certainly is not forgotten by scholars today.
He left behind an enormous body of writing, including philosophical, theological, historical and legal texts (he even wrote on a number of medical issues). His most famous work is the Chronographia, an exhilarating tale of the lives of 14 emperors during the years 976-1078. As one scholar put it, this is “Byzantium’s first political memoir”, and it recounts first-hand with irony and insight the decline of the empire in the 11th century at the hands of foolish and self-seeking leaders. Psellus talks about “seeing with my own eyes and hearing with my own ears how they [Empress Theodora’s closest friends] played fast and loose with the Empire, like men playing at dice.” Psellus also made a great contribution to philosophy, renewing almost single-handedly the study of philosophy in Byzantium.
As he states, or perhaps overstates, in his Chronographia: “Philosophy, when I first studied it, was moribund as far as its professors were concerned, and I alone revived it, untutored by any masters worthy of mention, and despite my thorough search finding no germ of philosophy either in Greece or in the barbarian world.” Unlike his innovative historical writing, in philosophy Psellus was not very original.
He was essentially a Neoplatonist, though he argued that Platonic philosophy can be integrated with Christian theology. But his reliance on pagan literature often left him open to accusations of theological unorthodoxy (he even had to make a profession of faith in Constantine IX’s reign). However, in his eyes, there need be no opposition between faith and reason, or Christianity and Greek philosophy. As he was to say in a letter to Patriarch Xiphilinus: “I may belong entirely to Christ, but I will not deny the wiser of our writers, nor the knowledge of reality, both intelligible and sensible.”
Dr Nick Trakakis is a Research Fellow in Philosophy at the Australian Catholic University. He recently edited “Southern Sun, Aegean Light: Poetry of Second-Generation Greek-Australians”.