Diocletian
by Simon King

 

 

They trod the path that sloped down the hill. It overlooked the ocean, which glimmered in the sweltering heat reflecting the azure sky. The two individuals who navigated this terrain were Publius Sulpicius Saverrio and Marcus Amelios, two noteworthy soldiers in the Roman Empire. They wore silk garments and large tunics which reached their knees. They occasionally wiped off the sweat which dripped down their brows.

They arrived at Diocletian’s Palace. This was an imposing military fortress which had all of the opulence of an imperial palace. As they arrived, they saw the rectangular plan which measured 30,000 square metres and the thick outer walls. The north, east and west sides featured high defensive towers and walls. The sea-facing part, which they arrived at initially, was open. Two intersecting streets divided the complex into four cardinal gates to the east, the Iron Gate to the west and the Bronze Gate to the South. The northern half housed soldiers, servants and space for storage. The southern half had the emperor’s private apartments, courts and sacred sites.

Savierro and Amelios walked farther on. Yes, they had frequented imperial palaces in Rome, but they were nonetheless impressed by the opulence on display here. They walked into the Peristyle, a rectangular central courtyard which featured columns and arches. ‘This place is fit for a former emperor,’ said Savierro.

‘Look, look at that,’ said Amelios, pointing at the distance. ‘A temple of Jupiter.’ And so there was, a temple of Jupiter near the court.

Amelios walked away, scrutinising the red granite columns and an Egyptian sphinx. He kept looking at it intently, as a voice emerged in the distance. ‘How can I help you gentlemen?’

Amelios jerked around and saw a middle-aged man who was wearing the exact same tunic as they were. ‘We have come to speak to Diocletian,’ he said. ‘We have come all the way from Rome. We have pressing issues we want to discuss.’

The servant gave a wry smile. ‘Oh, he his not in the palace.’

‘What do you mean? He is not in the palace? You mean that we trekked all the way from Rome to the Dalmatian Coast for nothing?’ Savierro exclaimed, exasperated.

‘Oh, there is no need to panic,’ the servant replied, stoically. ‘He is out in the garden. He spends most of his time there these days.’

Savierro wiped off the sweat that was rolling down his cheeks. ‘Oh… thank you… thank you.’

The two soldiers trudged away from the palace and into the colossal garden. It was a large space occupied by a single individual, whose face was not visible. He lowered himself and crouched on the ground. The two soldiers gathered around him. ‘Diocletian… please speak to us…’ Amelios asserted.

Diocletian turned his head around so as to face the two soldiers, but he remained crouching. ‘We want you to lead Rome again,’ Amelios said. ‘Please… Since you have left, the empire has degenerated into civil war and strife.’

Diocletian rose up. ‘No… That is not going to happen.’ The erstwhile emperor was tall, thin and had a large forehead, a strong nose, a hard mouth and a robust chin. His hair and beard were now grey. Although he wore garish garments as emperor – famously sporting one in purple – he now wore an ordinary white tunic.

‘You saved Rome from destruction in the past,’ Savierro said. ‘The empire almost collapsed… It might collapse again. We need you back. We feel that you are the only person capable of stemming the tide.’

‘Indeed, your achievements were considerable,’ Amelios said. ‘You established the Tetrarchy, the system with two Augusti and two Ceasars in the west and east. You ruled the east whilst Galerius ruled the west. The Ceasars were appointed as successors and would later become Caesars.’

‘This meant that the system was built on merit and that four rulers could fight on multiple parts of the empire,’ Savierro continued. ‘Most crucially, it stabilised Rome and ended the Crisis of the Third Century. This was characterised by economic chaos. We devalued the currency, which caused hyperinflation. We devalued it so as to pay for larger armies. We had to abandon our currency and go back to bartering again.’

‘Additionally, there were multiple military insurrections. We went through twenty emperors in fifty years,’ Amelios added. ‘You effectively ended both the economic crisis through price controls, tax overhauls and tax reforms. You also stabilised the political crisis by creating the Tetrarchy.’

‘For all this, we are extremely grateful,’ Savierro stated.

Diocletian once more smiled wryly. ‘You mean to tell me that you came all of the way from Rome just to tell me my own life story?’

‘No... No…’ Savierro panicked. ‘We want you back as emperor. The moment you left office, we were once more engulfed by another major crisis. We think that you are the person who can solve it. Please, Diocletian, we beg you – become emperor once again!’

‘Yes… As soon as you abdicated, Constantius and Severus became the Augusti,’ Amelios added. ‘However, Constantius died in York, England. As soon as this happened, they proclaimed Constantine as sole emperor, ignoring the rules of the Tetrarchy that you carefully established. Galerius has refused to grant Constantine the title of Augustus. Maxentius has also declared himself emperor. This has led to a civil war in Rome between Constantine and Maxentius, which is currently ongoing at the Milvian Bridge.’

‘The order which you established has broken down. Rome is currently afflicted by civil war. You solved the Fifty-year Crisis just when everyone thought that the Roman empire collapsed… Only you can restore order once more,’ Savierro said.

‘There are even rumours that Constantine has embraced Christianity,’ Amelius said. ‘He saw a Christian cross in the sky at the Milvian Bridge.’

‘Really?’ Diocletian exclaimed, with a startled expression. ‘That can’t be true. I worked so hard to persecute and repress those Christians.’

‘They are just rumours,’ Amelius replied.

‘Anyway, we have made ourselves abundantly clear, Diocletian, please come back.’

Diocletian had a weary expression on his face. ‘If you would see the cabbages that I plant with my own hands, you would not ask me to come back.’

‘So… you would rather plant cabbages… and tend to your garden… than save Rome from ruin?’ Savierro asked, startled.

‘Believe me, I really would. I love planting cabbages… Now, goodbye.’

The two soldiers were left completely bewildered. They staggered back into the palace, back onto the sloping hill and back towards the civil war in Rome. 

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