An Aging Emperor in a Fractured Empire

When Publius Licinius Valerianus ascended to the imperial throne in 253 AD at the advanced age of 63, he inherited a Roman Empire in profound crisis. By Roman standards, where life expectancy hovered around 40-50 years, Valerian was already well past what contemporaries considered retirement age. This demographic reality shaped his first significant decision – appointing his 37-year-old son Gallienus as co-emperor with the title Augustus, a move quickly ratified by the Senate. This power-sharing arrangement wasn’t merely familial generosity but reflected the empire’s dire straits; no single ruler could effectively manage the multiplying threats along Rome’s vast frontiers.

The imperial office had evolved significantly since its Republican origins as Imperator, a title originally denoting a victorious military commander. By the 3rd century, the emperor’s primary duty remained military leadership, but the empire’s sprawling borders from Britain to Mesopotamia made personal command on multiple fronts impossible. This logistical nightmare birthed the era of co-emperors, with Valerian and Gallienus representing one of many such partnerships that would characterize Rome’s governance during this turbulent period.

Military Reforms and the Rise of the Danubian Elite

Valerian’s first major initiative focused on military reorganization, implementing meritocratic reforms that would have lasting consequences. He systematically replaced incompetent commanders with talented young officers, disregarding traditional aristocratic privilege in favor of demonstrated battlefield competence. Most of these promoted officers hailed from the Danube provinces of Pannonia and Moesia – frontier regions that bred hardened soldiers but remained underdeveloped compared to Italy, Greece, Gaul, or Hispania.

For ambitious Danubian youths lacking means for education in Rome, military service offered the only path to advancement. Valerian’s reforms inadvertently created a pipeline of future emperors; many 3rd-century “barracks emperors” emerged from this pool of talent he cultivated. This shift marked the beginning of the frontier armies’ growing political influence that would eventually eclipse Rome’s traditional senatorial aristocracy.

The Christian Question Intensifies

Valerian inherited an inconsistent imperial policy toward Christianity that vacillated between indifference and persecution. Previous emperors like Marcus Aurelius had authorized executions (like the Lyons martyrs of 177 AD), while others like Commodus or Elagabalus permitted relative tolerance. The standard procedure, established by Trajan a century earlier, only prosecuted Christians formally denounced to authorities. However, Emperor Decius (249-251 AD) had radicalized this approach, initiating systematic persecution regardless of accusations – a policy cut short by his death in battle against the Goths but leaving about 1,000 martyrs including prominent figures like Bishop Cyprian of Carthage.

Valerian revived and expanded Decius’ policies in 257 AD, requiring all citizens to obtain certificates (libelli) proving they had sacrificed to Roman gods. Special commissions issued these documents, reflecting broader societal frustrations with Christians who refused military service and public offices – civic duties all citizens theoretically shared since Caracalla’s 212 AD Edict extended citizenship empire-wide. From the Roman perspective, Christian abstention during military crises seemed like treasonous dereliction of duty.

Christian apologists like Origen (d. 253 AD) framed these conflicts differently, arguing their faith would ultimately triumph over imperial power and convert both Romans and barbarians. This theological confidence fueled Christian resistance to emperor worship, which they equated with idolatry despite Roman distinctions between honoring living rulers and deifying dead ones. The stage was set for a cultural collision between Roman civic religion and Christian exclusivity.

The Mechanics of Persecution: Valerian’s Two Edicts

In 257 AD, after securing military defenses, Valerian issued his first anti-Christian edict targeting clergy: banning worship services, confiscating meeting places, and exiling or executing disobedient leaders. Notable martyrs included Pope Stephen I (executed August 2, 257) and Cyprian, who voluntarily surrendered after initially fleeing (executed August 30, 258).

The second edict in 258 AD escalated measures by:
– Penalizing lay Christians, especially wealthy ones
– Introducing property confiscation
– Mandating participation in Roman rites

This financial focus revealed Rome’s growing awareness of Christianity’s economic dimensions. Unlike Roman state-funded polytheism, Christian churches relied on private donations supporting clergy, charities, and infrastructure – an alien concept to Romans now facing fiscal crises. Valerian’s administration correctly identified church funding as critical to Christian institutional survival but underestimated believers’ willingness to sacrifice wealth for faith.

The Abrupt End and Lasting Consequences

Valerian’s anti-Christian campaign ended abruptly when Shapur I of Persia invaded in 260 AD, forcing the emperor to redirect resources. Captured humiliatingly at the Battle of Edessa (a first for Roman emperors), Valerian died in Persian captivity, leaving Gallienus to abandon his father’s religious policies. Christians would enjoy 45 years of relative peace until Diocletian’s Great Persecution (303-311 AD).

This pause wasn’t ideological but practical – subsequent emperors faced more immediate military threats. Yet Valerian’s failed persecution ironically strengthened Christianity by:
– Creating martyrs who inspired believers
– Forcing organizational adaptations to oppression
– Demonstrating imperial overextension

The episode also highlighted Rome’s evolving identity crisis, caught between traditional civic religion and emerging monotheism, between senatorial traditions and military realities – tensions that would ultimately transform the empire itself. Valerian’s reign, though ending in catastrophe, encapsulated the 3rd century’s defining struggles that would reshape Mediterranean civilization.