The Unseen End of an Empire

In the waning years of the 5th century, the Western Roman Empire breathed its last, though few contemporaries recognized the finality of the moment. For most inhabitants of the Mediterranean world, daily life continued with familiar rhythms, largely undisturbed by the political upheavals unfolding in distant imperial centers. The deposition of the last Western emperor, Romulus Augustulus, in 476 CE represented just another episode in a long series of imperial successions and usurpations that had characterized Roman politics for generations. Yet as the 6th century approached, a growing realization began to dawn upon those in the Eastern Roman Empire: something fundamental had changed. The eternal city had fallen, and with it, the political structure that had organized Mediterranean civilization for nearly a millennium.

Marcellinus Comes, an early historian under Emperor Justinian’s reign, captured this emerging consciousness with chilling clarity. He noted that “the Western Empire of the Roman people, which first began in the 709th year of the city’s foundation with Octavian Augustus, perished with this Augustulus, in the 522nd year of his predecessors’ rule, and from then on the Gothic kings held Rome.” This seemingly straightforward historical observation carried profound theological implications that would shape the Eastern Roman worldview for centuries to come.

The Theological Framework of Imperial Collapse

The connection between Rome’s destiny and cosmic history had been developing within Christian thought for several centuries prior to the empire’s actual collapse. Early Christians had inherited from Jewish apocalyptic tradition the concept of four successive world empires, as articulated in the Book of Daniel. By the 3rd century, Christian theologians had definitively identified Rome as the fourth and final empire whose fall would precede Christ’s Second Coming and the end of earthly history.

This eschatological expectation created a paradoxical relationship between Christians and the Roman state. While the New Testament authors—particularly Matthew, Mark, and Luke—had emphasized the imminence of Christ’s return while remaining deliberately vague about its timing, the persistence of the Roman Empire came to be seen as a divinely ordained delaying mechanism. The Apostle Paul’s mysterious reference to a restraining force (katéchon) in his Second Letter to the Thessalonians was increasingly interpreted by patristic authors as referring to the Roman Empire itself. Thus, rather than representing a force of evil to be overcome, the empire’s continued existence was understood as divinely preventing the advent of the Antichrist and the final tribulation.

Calculating the End Times: The Six-Thousand-Year Theory

As the Western Empire disintegrated, Eastern Roman intellectuals intensified their efforts to calculate precisely when the awaited end would come. Drawing from Psalm 90:4 , early Christian chronographers developed a schema dividing world history into six millennia, corresponding to the six days of creation. From the 3rd century onward, scholars like Hippolytus of Rome and Sextus Julius Africanus began calculating where their own era fell within this cosmic week.

These calculations typically placed Christ’s birth around the year 5500 from creation, suggesting that the six thousand years would be completed around 500 CE. This mathematical eschatology gained widespread acceptance throughout the Eastern Mediterranean, creating a pervasive sense that the end was imminent as the fateful year approached and passed. The reign of Emperor Anastasius I thus occurred within what many believed were the final moments of human history.

Cultural Manifestations of Impending Doom

The apocalyptic expectations of the late 5th and early 6th centuries found expression across multiple dimensions of Eastern Roman culture. Church construction reached unprecedented levels as communities prepared dwelling places for Christ and the saints whose arrival they anticipated daily. Homilies and liturgical poetry composed by figures like Romanos the Melodist vividly depicted scenes of final judgment, bringing eschatological imagery into regular worship.

Prophecy literature experienced a remarkable revival, with texts like the so-called “Tübingen Theosophy” and the Oracle of Baalbek circulating widely. These works specifically identified Anastasius as the final emperor whose reign would immediately precede the end times. The Oracle of Baalbek contained particularly striking language: “Afterwards there will be another emperor from the West, from the city of Epidamnos, which is called Dyrrhachium in Latin; the emperor’s name is unknown, but his name signifies the end of the world… When he ascends the throne, he will be called Anastasius.”

The emperor’s name itself contributed to these interpretations. “Anastasius” recalled the Greek word “anastasis” , creating a powerful symbolic connection between the ruler and the expected resurrection of the dead. In an age deeply influenced by apocalyptic thought, this nominal coincidence seemed anything but accidental to contemporaries.

Natural Disasters as Eschatological Signs

The psychological impact of Rome’s political collapse was amplified by a series of natural catastrophes that struck the Eastern Mediterranean during Anastasius’s reign and continued into the periods of Justin I and Justinian. Earthquakes leveled cities, fires consumed urban centers, unusual weather patterns caused widespread famine, and celestial phenomena—including comets, auroras, and eclipses—were interpreted as divine portents.

Military setbacks against Persian forces and recurring outbreaks of plague further reinforced the perception that the world was unraveling. Contemporary chroniclers like Joshua the Stylite documented these events with explicit reference to their eschatological significance, interpreting them as the “birth pangs” preceding the end times described in the Gospels. The convergence of political collapse, natural disasters, and military instability created a powerful sense that history had reached its predetermined conclusion.

The Persistence of Apocalyptic Expectation

Despite the non-appearance of Christ in 500 CE, apocalyptic expectation continued throughout the 6th century and beyond. The reign of Justinian witnessed particularly intense eschatological speculation, fueled by the devastating Plague of Justinian that killed perhaps a third of the empire’s population, massive earthquake series that destroyed major cities, and the emperor’s own ambitious—and ultimately unsuccessful—project to reconquer the Western Mediterranean.

Later chroniclers like Michael the Syrian, writing in the 12th century, still looked back to the Anastasian period as the time when the six thousand years had been completed. The flexibility of apocalyptic chronology allowed expectations to adapt to historical circumstances, with new calculations emerging as previous deadlines passed without incident.

Legacy and Historical Significance

The apocalyptic interpretation of Rome’s fall represents a crucial chapter in the history of Western eschatological thought. It demonstrates how historical events become invested with theological significance and how communities facing profound uncertainty develop frameworks for understanding their experiences within cosmic narratives.

The persistence of these expectations well beyond their predicted dates illustrates the human capacity for adaptive interpretation when prophecies fail to materialize. Rather than abandoning their eschatological frameworks, Eastern Roman intellectuals refined their calculations and found new significance in subsequent events.

Modern scholarship continues to debate the extent to which these apocalyptic expectations actually influenced imperial policy during the 6th century. Some historians suggest that Justinian’s aggressive reconquest of Italy and North Africa reflected an attempt to restore the Roman Empire as the restraining force (katéchon) that would delay the end times. Others argue that practical political and economic considerations dominated imperial decision-making, with eschatology remaining primarily a cultural and theological phenomenon without significant policy implications.

The Eastern Roman engagement with apocalyptic thought during this transitional period also represents an important chapter in the history of historical consciousness. The attempt to locate contemporary events within a comprehensive chronology stretching from creation to consummation reflects a characteristically medieval approach to time and history that would dominate European thought for centuries.

Ultimately, the response to Rome’s collapse reveals the profound psychological and cultural adjustment required when an apparently eternal institution disappears. The Eastern Romans managed this transition by embedding the event within a larger narrative that gave meaning to their loss and provided hope for ultimate resolution. In doing so, they established patterns of eschatological interpretation that would recur throughout Western history during periods of profound crisis and transformation.