What we call the Byzantine Empire was the eastern half of the Roman Empire. Its citizens, from the founding of Constantinople in 323 AD to the city's fall eleven centuries later, referred to themselves as Roman. Their neighbors, allies, and enemies also largely saw them in this light. The term "Byzantine" is a modern invention, coined by Enlightenment scholars who preferred ancient Greece and classical Rome and denied the Eastern Empire the name "Roman," branding it instead after Byzantium, the ancient name of Constantinople. For these scholars, the "real" Roman Empire ended in 476 AD with the abdication of the last western emperor, and the history of the "impostors" in Constantinople was seen as a thousand-year slide into barbarism, corruption, and decay. The story of Byzantium begins with the emperor Constantine. In 324 AD, after the turmoil of civil wars ended, Constantine decided that Rome, with its malarial streets and pagan past, was no longer worthy to be the capital of the world. Legend has it that he first went to Troy, the fabled cradle of the Roman people, to start building a new capital, but a divine voice told him his destiny lay elsewhere. He followed the voice across the Hellespont to the thousand-year-old city of Byzantium. He dreamed that night of an old woman becoming young again, and upon waking, knew he would build his capital there. Constantine’s New Rome, centered on the Bosporus, would indeed grow vibrant again. Historians looking back claim that the Roman Empire was transformed into something else with the founding of the city, marking the beginning of Byzantine history. However, the roots of this new world predated Constantine, as the empire had already been profoundly changing, politically and religiously, for a generation. Constantine merely finalized this transformation. The reforms of his predecessor, Diocletian, provided the foundation. By Constantine's death, the transformation begun by Diocletian had reached its peak, and the old Roman Empire started to pass away. The capital was founded on a Latin model, echoing Rome's bureaucracy and planning, but transplanted to an eastern shore, New Rome began to change as the Greek, Christian culture around it took hold. Paganism saw a counterstroke under Emperor Julian in the spring of 362 AD. Julian, known as "Bullneck" since childhood, set off on a tour bound for Antioch to plan his campaign. The citizens welcomed him, but were disappointed by the austere emperor and his censorious speeches against their lack of faith. Julian continued his attempt to revive paganism despite plummeting popularity. He sent messengers to Delphi, the most famous oracle in the Roman world for over a thousand years, asking for a prophecy. The oracle's answer was the last one ever recorded, stating that the glorious dwelling had fallen, water springs that spoke were quenched, and no cell, roof, or cover was left for the god, with the prophet laurel flowering no more. This served as a fitting epitaph to Julian's attempt to repaganize the empire. His body was brought to Tarsus, ironically Saint Paul's birthplace, and the last pagan emperor was laid to rest with his promise unfulfilled. The Constantinian line ended with his death. Despite this, the vast pagan literature of the classical world did not disappear. It was deeply ingrained in Roman culture and intellectual thought. Although the future was with Christianity, anyone who considered themselves Roman could not completely reject the classical world. Unlike their western counterparts, early Byzantine church fathers recognized the benefits of pagan philosophy, believing it contained valuable insights and that careful reading could separate moral lessons from pagan religion. Byzantine universities, including the famous Academy of Athens and the Patriarchal Academy in Constantinople, preserved and cultivated classical writing, teaching a curriculum that included literature, philosophy, and scientific texts of antiquity. This contrasted sharply with the West, where barbarian invasions shattered civilization and broke bonds with the classical past. A dreadful rumor arrived from the West in 410 AD: Rome, the city that had taken the whole world, was itself taken. The Visigoths sacked the Eternal City for three days, even breaking into the mausoleum of Augustus and scattering imperial ashes. While the physical damage might not have been especially brutal, the psychological impact was profound, felt throughout the empire. Constantinople held three days of mourning. Refugees brought horror stories of the siege to places like Hippo Regius. This event led some to suggest Rome's fall was the price of embracing Christianity, which had caused emperors to close pagan temples. The Byzantine golden age had a hardly auspicious start. For three days, smoke hung over Constantinople after rioters left a trail of destruction, reducing buildings like the main gate of the imperial palace, the Senate house, and even the Hagia Sophia and Hagia Irene cathedrals to ashes. The city looked as if it had been looted by a barbarian horde, despite being inflicted by its own citizens. Surveying the damage, Justinian saw an opportunity for an ambitious new building program to transform the city and the empire. Under Justinian, the empire experienced a period of significant reconquest and cultural flourishing. He gave Roman law, the basis of most European legal systems today, to the world. His artisans created brilliant mosaics like those in Ravenna and the supreme triumph of the Hagia Sophia. By 541 AD, Belisarius had returned both Africa and Italy to imperial control in the West, and seemed on the verge of conquering the Persian capital in the East. The wealth from Vandal and Gothic treasuries funded impressive new buildings across the empire. Antioch was rebuilt, and Constantinople gleamed with the Hagia Sophia, an architectural marvel possible due to sophisticated advances in mathematics that spawned a flourishing school dedicated to the field. Education thrived; primary education was available for both genders, and virtually every level of society was literate due to the stability of Justinian's rule. Universities continued the Aristotelian and Platonic traditions, and works of ancient scientists were compiled in libraries. However, the year 541 AD also saw the arrival of a devastating enemy: the plague, Yersinia pestis. Stories of tragic sickness filtered through, and racing east came news that Justinian himself was stricken. This threw the army into chaos, as Justinian had named no heir. Belisarius was unanimously picked by the generals as their choice for emperor, pledging to accept no decision made by Theodora without their input or consent. Fortunately, Justinian recovered, and despite the plague's impact, the empire, under his former commander Narses, eventually completed the conquest of Italy. However, Narses' tactless recall and subsequent invitation of the Lombards into Italy led to the peninsula not being united again until the 19th century. Another significant development during Justinian's reign was the smuggling of silk moth secrets out of China by two monks, leading to the birth of Byzantium's most lucrative industry. Less than a century after Justinian's high point, the empire was severely buffeted by the shattering advance of Islam. Within eight years, Muslims conquered three of the five great patriarchates of the Christian Church: Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem. Neither prayers, icons, nor steel could stop them. Two-thirds of the empire's territories vanished, and half its population disappeared. Arab raiders plundered the countryside, and cities became shells of their former selves. Refugees impoverished by Muslim attacks roamed Constantinople's streets, and prosperity dried up. The once-powerful empire shrunk to Asia Minor, becoming poorer, less populated, and weaker than the neighboring caliphate. The Byzantine world was left deeply traumatized. The defeat by the armies of a false prophet shook the very foundations of belief in an empire Christianized by victory at the Milvian Bridge. bewildered citizens asked why God had allowed such a disaster. This trauma contributed to the iconoclastic controversy (the "smashing of icons") unleashed by Emperor Leo III. Leo III saved Byzantium from Muslim conquest and was the first emperor in half a century to die in his bed, but the empire he left was dangerously divided between those who loved icons and those who wanted to destroy them. This controversy raged for the better part of a century, forcing Christianity to grapple with the line between veneration and idolatry. Emperor Constantine V's ferocious war on icons estranged the West at a moment when Byzantine power depended on its loyalty. Abandoned by an emperor who considered him a heretic, the pope watched as Lombards annihilated the imperial government at Ravenna. Byzantine power in Italy was reduced to a last bastion in the heel, and the Caesars were expelled from their ancient capital after nearly eight centuries. The pope then found a new protector in the Frankish king Pépin the Short, who defeated the Lombards and gave control of what became the Papal States to the pope. This event humiliated Constantinople. By the death of Constantine V in 775 AD, the empire seemed exhausted by constant disruptions. Society began to break down, records weren't kept faithfully, and old traditions disappeared. Cities shrunk, populations huddled in ruins, and civic planning vanished. Buildings decayed, and repairs used masonry from earlier structures. Even major cities like Athens and Constantinople showed decay; Athens became a provincial town, and Constantinople's aqueduct remained in disrepair for over a century. The coronation of Charlemagne completed the damage begun by the advance of Islam. Byzantium had been subjected to tremendous pressures, transforming every level of society. It was no longer the confident master of the Mediterranean. The last traces of the classical empire of Constantine and Justinian disappeared in the wreckage of Irene's rule. The empire had to adapt or be extinguished. There was a cultural renaissance under Emperor Theophilus, who presided over a flourishing of scholarship. While his armies struggled in Asia Minor, Theophilus won hearts with his concern for justice. Court historians and young nobles returned to studying the classics. Eastern schools could draw on their philosophical and literary traditions, unlike the West, where medieval thought was cut off from classical heritage. Theophilus' renewed intellectual fame was such that a caliph in Baghdad even requested a specialist, though the emperor wisely kept the scholar in the capital. Significant in this period was the work of Photios and the mission of Cyril and Methodius. Photios allowed Byzantine culture to be separated from the Greek language, spreading the empire's influence. Cyril and Methodius learned Slavic, created a written alphabet for it, and argued that all tongues were fit to praise God. This contrasted with the Western bishops who insisted services be in Hebrew, Greek, or Latin. The Bulgarian khan was baptized in the Hagia Sophia, and Bulgaria entered the Byzantine cultural orbit. Emperor Basil I, while his armies marched, turned his energy to refurbishing Constantinople, which lacked building. He repaired churches and public monuments, replacing timber roofs with stone and restoring mosaics. He put the most effort into his personal residence and built the magnificent Nea Ekklesia. So intent was he on finishing it that he refused to send the fleet to help Syracuse, the last major Byzantine stronghold in Sicily, which fell as a result. Basil II earned the sobriquet "Bulgar Slayer". He inflicted a devastating defeat on the Bulgarians, blinding their soldiers save for one eye on every hundred. The horrible sight caused their tsar, Samuel, to die of shame. Basil II received the complete surrender of the Bulgarian capital in 1018. In 1081, Alexius Comnenus, a thirty-three-year-old general, was crowned emperor. Energetic and shrewd, he would prove to be among the greatest Byzantine rulers, facing a nearly insurmountable task. Under Manuel I, Alexius's grandson, the Byzantines were influenced by the pageantry of the Second Crusade. Western-style dress became fashionable among wealthy ladies, and Manuel himself held jousting tournaments. However, this fad carried a tinge of superiority; Byzantines generally considered Western knights "jumped-up barbarians," incapable of true parity with Constantinople's spiritual and temporal glory. The empire might have lost material luster but remained a shining beacon of learning and civilization. The empire's collapse accelerated rapidly. Manuel's young son was incapable of handling problems like Turkish advances in Asia Minor, Serbia declaring independence, and Hungary detaching territories. Manuel's cousin, Andronicus I, seized the throne but ruled with violence and paranoia, earning the nickname "Andronicus the Terrible". The Fourth Crusade in the early 13th century marked a terrible trauma. The crusaders fell upon Constantinople like wolves, sacking the city that had stood inviolate since the Roman Empire's strength. Its libraries, churches, palaces, and treasures were despoiled and dispersed. The city's culture and economy showed resilience, with art becoming more lifelike and writers departing from archaic styles. However, the empire's power seemed lost. The empire splintered into fragments, including Trebizond, Epirus, and the most powerful at Nicaea. Michael VIII Palaeologus, from Nicaea, recaptured Constantinople in 1261. The city he entered was a pale shadow of its former self, with burned and abandoned houses, despoiled churches, and decayed palaces. The formidable walls and harbor needed repair, and the countryside was devastated. The old unity was gone, as the splinters remained independent. Hope seemed to lie with the West, but the Fourth Crusade had ruptured relations. Michael VIII attempted Byzantine diplomacy, notably reaching out to Peter III of Aragon to invade Sicily, a rival power, using Byzantine gold and exploiting anti-French sentiment on the island. The last two centuries of Byzantine history were largely discouraging, with petty emperors waging destructive internal squabbles as the empire crumbled. By 1347, the remnants of Byzantium devolved into something resembling class warfare. However, a cultural flowering occurred as the empire edged toward extinction, with a brilliant explosion of art, architecture, and science. Sophisticated hospitals with male and female doctors and medical students dissecting cadavers existed. Byzantine astronomers postulated on the spherical shape of the earth. The empire was constantly under pressure from the Ottomans. The Ottoman sultan Bayezid, known as "the Thunderbolt," was particularly menacing. Taking the title "Sultan of Rum," he was determined to crush any thoughts of independence. He forced the emperor, Manuel II, to help reduce Philadelphia, the last Christian outpost in Anatolia, to ruin. The final act centered around John VIII's younger brother, Constantine XI Dragases. He was declared emperor in Mistra, in the vale of ancient Sparta, though he had to be crowned by the patriarch in Constantinople. Boarding a Venetian galley, as no Byzantine ones were available, he made his way to the capital, entering formally on March 12, 1449. By the time the new emperor arrived, Constantinople was a dim reflection of its former grandeur, shrunken behind its walls. The population had fallen significantly. Deserted fields and half-ruined buildings filled vast stretches of the city. Yet, there was a strange vibrancy in the air; art, though less sumptuous, showed a freshness and vitality. Artisans and scholars found patrons, and new schools of art flourished. Byzantium knew its destruction was coming but showed a determination to experience life fully. Materially reduced, it was intellectually and culturally blooming. The Byzantine Empire drew to a close after 1,123 years and 18 days. The Divine Liturgy in the Hagia Sophia fell silent. The empire came to a glorious and heroic end, with its last emperor choosing death over surrender or diminishing his ideals. He found a common grave among his men, bringing the empire full circle like the first emperor in the city, also a son of Helena named Constantine, and having a Justinian by his side. The sultan, Mehmed II, dismounted at the Hagia Sophia, poured dirt on his turban as a sign of humility, and gave thanks to Allah. He softly sang a Persian song about the spider weaving its web in the palace and the owl singing in the towers. Constantinople fell and was remade as a Muslim city, Istanbul. The Hagia Sophia became a mosque, its mosaics whitewashed. Memory transformed the events into legend. Priests in the Hagia Sophia supposedly melted into the southern wall, awaiting the city's return to Christian hands. The last emperor was said to have been rescued by an angel and turned to stone, waiting in a cave below the Golden Gate to return. Constantine's stand became a symbol for the Orthodox Church in exile. His statue stands in Athens, an iconic, unofficial saint of modern Greece. The greatest heir of Byzantium is the Orthodox Church, which served as a cultural repository linking peoples of the former empire to their past. The Byzantine eagle flies on flags of nations from Albania to Montenegro, a shared heritage. The story was largely forgotten in the West, but without Byzantium, the history of the Middle East and Europe is incomplete. The fall of Constantinople marked the end of the Middle Ages and the brink of an extraordinary cultural explosion in western Europe. Using a translated Byzantine text of Ptolemy's Geographia, Christopher Columbus discovered America just four years after the fall. In the Age of Discovery, there was little room for Byzantium's memories. The word "Byzantine" became a caricature, conjuring images of unnecessary complexity and sinister designs, which were undeserved and untrue. Byzantium found its own unique balance to tensions of church and state, faith and reason, stretching over unstable lands and leaving a legacy of stability and unity for over a thousand years. The tragedy is not its fall, but its consignment to irrelevance. The lonely Theodosian walls still stand, a testament to the epic struggle, reminding that the Roman Empire didn't expire in the humiliation of a little Augustus, but in the heroism of a Constantine.