Imaginary interview with Justinian
by Charactorium · Justinian (482 — 565) · Politics · 5 min read
That morning, two young visitors on a discovery class push open the heavy doors of an imaginary palace. Before them, an old emperor with tired eyes awaits them, draped in purple. His name is Justinian, and he has agreed to answer all their questions.
—Is it true they called you the emperor who never sleeps?
You know, my child, it's almost true. I slept barely a few hours. At night, when the whole palace fell silent, I walked alone in the corridors, a small oil lamp in my hand. Imagine a great stone building, with no light, just that tiny trembling flame. My historian Procopius said people took me for a crowned ghost! I would reread my laws, annotate my jurists' files. I ate little: bread, vegetables, water. Governing an empire, you see, isn't done while sleeping.
They took me for a crowned ghost, a lamp in hand.
—What did you eat in the morning, in your great palace?
Not much, you'd be disappointed! While my court feasted on roasted meats and Greek wines, I made do with bread and vegetables. I often fasted, out of devotion. I lived in the Great Palace of Constantinople, a vast complex of buildings that descended to the sea. The walls gleamed with golden mosaics and colored marbles. But in the morning, at dawn, I wasn't thinking about food. I was already receiving my secretaries to handle the affairs of the empire. An emperor isn't a lord who parties. He's a man who works before everyone else.
—What's the day you almost lost everything?
Ah, that day, I was very afraid. It was in 532. The people revolted against me. It's called the Nika revolt, because the rioters shouted that word, which means 'Conquer!' Imagine the whole city burning, the screams, the smoke. I was ready to flee on a ship, like a coward. But my wife Theodora looked me straight in the eye and said: 'Purple is the noblest shroud.' She meant: better to die an emperor than live as a fugitive. So I stayed. And I kept my throne.
Better to die an emperor than live as a fugitive.
—Who was Theodora to you? A real queen?
Theodora was much more than a queen. She was my strength. You know, she came from a modest background: she had been an actress, a despised profession in my time. To marry her, I had to change a law that forbade it! Many at court looked down on her. But when everyone trembled during the Nika revolt, she was the one who stood firm. She was the one who held me back from fleeing. Without her, I might not have reigned thirty-eight years. When she died, in 548, I lost my best advisor. The palace seemed very empty afterward.
—Why did you want to write all the laws in a single book?
Good question! Imagine you're looking for an important rule. But it's hidden in hundreds of large volumes, written over centuries, sometimes contradicting each other. It was chaos! The judges didn't know what to do. So I gathered ten jurists, led by a brilliant man named Tribonian. In just three years, they assembled everything into the Digest, fifty books! Together with the Code, the Institutes, and the Novels, it forms the Corpus Juris Civilis, the 'body of civil law.' My goal was simple: that no one would have to search for the law in countless volumes anymore.
That no one would have to search for the law in countless volumes anymore.
—And are your laws still useful today?
You make me happy by asking that, my child! You see, when I had the Corpus Juris Civilis written, I was thinking mainly of my empire. I didn't know what would happen after me. But this work has crossed the centuries. Much later, schools reopened my texts to teach law. I often wrote myself, with my inkwell and calamus, annotating my jurists' drafts. I spent entire nights on a single word. Perhaps that is my true treasure: not my conquests, but these laws that continued to live when my armies disappeared.
—Did you have a soldier friend who won all your wars?
Yes! His name was Belisarius, and he was my best general. They said he was a great strategist, meaning a skillful army commander. I sent him to reconquer lands lost by Rome. In 533, he crossed the sea to Africa and, in less than a year, brought down the entire Vandal kingdom. Imagine: a whole army defeated in a few months! He took Carthage, in today's Tunisia. Thanks to him, the Mediterranean was becoming almost Roman again. Belisarius was my arm. I held the pen, he held the sword.
I held the pen, he held the sword.
—Did all these conquests make you happy or tired?
Both, my child... At first, I was proud. My empire was expanding again: Africa, then Italy, and even a piece of Spain in 554. Never had the empire been so large since the fall of Rome. But this reconquest of Italy, against the Goths, lasted almost twenty years! It cost so many men, so much gold. I saw my coffers empty and my soldiers die. The city of Ravenna became mine, but the price was heavy. Glory, you see, shines from afar. Up close, it weighs very heavily on the shoulders.
Glory shines from afar. Up close, it weighs very heavily.
—Is it true you built a huge church in five years?
It's true, and I'm still moved by it! After the Nika revolt, the old church had burned down. I wanted to rebuild it more beautiful than anything that existed. Hagia Sophia, they called it. In just five years, my workers raised a giant dome, more than thirty meters wide. Imagine a dome so high it seems to float in the sky, with nothing holding it. When I entered for the inauguration, in 537, I thought of King Solomon, who built the great Temple of Jerusalem. And I said: 'Solomon, I have surpassed you!'
Solomon, I have surpassed you!
—What was most important to you: being a leader or being a believer?
Ah, for me, my child, the two were one! In my time, the emperor was both head of state and protector of the Church. I convened bishops, discussed religion, even decided questions of faith. On a mosaic in Ravenna, I am shown holding a large paten, an offering plate, like a priest. I wore the pearl diadem, a sign that my power came from Heaven. Governing men and serving God were the same task in my eyes. I never separated the throne from the altar.
—If someone met you today, what would they notice first?
My tired eyes, surely! And my purple. You know, I wore a great silk cloak of deep red, a color reserved for the emperor alone. No one else had the right. At great festivals, I added the loros, a heavy gold scarf covered in precious stones, so stiff you could barely move. But behind all that splendor, there was just a man who slept little and worked too much. If you had met me at night, my little lamp in hand, you wouldn't have seen an emperor. You would have seen an old man who never stops thinking.
Behind the purple, just a man who never stops thinking.
This imaginary interview was generated by artificial intelligence from sources documented in Justinian's profile. It dramatises what the figure might have said based on what we know about them, but does not constitute attested historical testimony. For primary sources and factual documentation, refer to the full profile.