{"id":75,"date":"2019-03-24T13:34:54","date_gmt":"2019-03-24T20:34:54","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/ubcmedievalworkshop2019\/?page_id=75"},"modified":"2019-03-27T16:10:00","modified_gmt":"2019-03-27T23:10:00","slug":"paper-abstracts","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/ubcmedievalworkshop2019\/paper-abstracts\/","title":{"rendered":"Paper abstracts"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>Pawel Figurski (Tadeusz Manteuffel Institute of History, Polish Academy of Sciences), \u201cBetween the Sacred and the Secular Kingdom:\u00a0Liturgical Struggles over the Proper Place of Politics in Medieval Christianity\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Robert Markus, in his <em>retractatio\u00a0<\/em>published a few years before his death, argued that \u201cChristian tradition has a legitimate place for the autonomy of the secular\u201d (2006, p. 9). A thesis, derived from his reading of Augustine was an apology for the Christian concept of the secular conceived as the sphere \u201cequivalent to what can be shared with non-Christians\u201d (2006, p. 6). Nevertheless, these Augustinian ideas, according to Markus, were soon-after obscured in the Christian tradition by a de-secularizing tendency. This paved the way for the medieval ecclesiastical triumphalism and the so-called Constantinian Church, which appropriated the imperial Roman ideology once severely criticized by the bishop of Hippo.<\/p>\n<p>Markus\u2019 reading of Augustine was challenged by many; most harshly by John Milbank, claiming that the secular does not have the proper place in the Christian tradition for it \u201cis quite simply a realm of sin\u201d (2006, p. 406). For Milbank and the followers of the radical orthodoxy movement, the City of God exists in full perfection in heaven, but it is also a social reality here on earth. Therefore, political means of establishing and maintaining norms must also be embedded within the Church in order to build the true society. There the political power is only an inner-ecclesial one (Bruno 2014, p. 143\u2013144).<\/p>\n<p>With these two opposing conclusions derived from the Augustine thought I would like to venture out into the period formative for the emergence of the Christian stand on political power, namely, the European Middle Ages between ca. 800 and ca. 1200. In the course of these four centuries, there were many debates about the proper place of political forms of organization in the Christian tradition. The proposed solutions for the disputes over the nature of the kingdom, sacralized or de-sacralized, sometimes follow Markus\u2019, other times follow Milbank\u2019s readings of Augustine.<\/p>\n<p>This paper will examine these competing theologies of the political that were not only exemplified in Christian worship but also influenced by political liturgies, in particular, prayers concerning war, peace, and kingship. Liturgical texts influenced other types of sources that strove to find the proper place of politics in medieval Christianity. Moreover, practiced ecclesiastical rituals offered new tools for conceiving political order that were more refined than both Markus\u2019 and Milbank\u2019s propositions.<\/p>\n<p>Michael J.S. Bruno, <em>Political Augustinianism: Modern Interpretations of Augustine\u2019s Political Thought\u00a0<\/em>(Baltimore, 2014).<\/p>\n<p>Robert A. Markus, <em>Christianity and the Secular <\/em>(Notre Dame, 2006).<\/p>\n<p>John Milbank, <em>Theology and Social Theory: Beyond Secular Reason\u00a0<\/em>(Oxford, 2006).<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Sophia M\u00f6sch (Univ. Oxford), \u201cSecularity and Sacrality in Carolingian Political Advice: Cicero, Virgil, and Augustine\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>This paper will draw on my forthcoming monograph \u201cAugustine and the Art of Ruling in the Carolingian Imperial Period\u201d and on my postdoctoral project, comparing Western and Eastern portrayals of rulership under the Carolingian and Macedonian dynasties.<\/p>\n<p>In my research examining the impact of Augustine of Hippo\u2019s thought on Carolingian ideas of rulership and ethics, I was struck by the many entanglements of secularity and sacrality both in Augustine\u2019s <em>De civitate Dei\u00a0<\/em>and in the political advice to Carolingian rulers.<\/p>\n<p>When I considered Augustine\u2019s place in time and his occupation as a Christian writer, the problem of identifying the influences on the <em>De Civitate Dei\u00a0<\/em>arose. While this is an impossible task to achieve, my questions concerning advice to rulers on secular and religious matters led me to foreground Cicero in the <em>De civitate Dei<\/em>. I explored H.-X. Arquilli\u00e8re\u2019s argument that Augustine recognised natural vs. divine virtues and R. Dodaro\u2019s thesis that Augustine conceived a transformation of the four <em>virtutes civiles\u00a0<\/em>under Christian rulership, beyond the level of virtue attained by pagan rulers, who lack <em>vera pietas<\/em>. Cicero\u2019s skeptical stance, his manner of considering supporting and opposing views, was evidently reflected in Augustine\u2019s discourse on divine and worldly rule. By enhancing Polybius\u2019 argument that the elements in Rome\u2019s rise to supreme power were the \u201cwisdom\u201d and moral superiority of its individual citizens, Cicero set the basis for Roman political thinking. Augustine, by providing an alternative definition of \u2018state\u2019 based on divine law alongside that suggested by Cicero based on natural law, laid the foundation for a versatile application of his brand of thought in the Middle Ages. In a similar way, Augustine adapted Virgil for his argument: in Book II of the <em>De civitate Dei\u00a0<\/em>Augustine adapts two verses of Virgil\u2019s <em>Aeneid\u00a0<\/em>and adds a spiritual dimension to \u201cempire\u201d, which according to the classical Roman tradition has a purely political and military meaning. While Virgil\u2019s verses are part of Jupiter\u2019s speech who says to Venus \u201cFor these [Romans] I set neither limits of government nor time limits; I have given an empire without end\u201d,<sup>1\u00a0<\/sup>Augustine urges the Romans to abandon the cult of the gods and strive after the one and true God who \u201c[&#8230;] sets neither limits of government nor time limits, He will give an Empire without end\u201d.<sup>2<\/sup><\/p>\n<p>By means of Alcuin of York\u2019s <em>Epistolae\u00a0<\/em>and Hincmar of Rheims\u2019s <em>De regis persona et regio ministerio<\/em>, I will show how two preeminent Carolingian political advisers reuse classical, Christianised <em>topoi\u00a0<\/em>such as \u201cwisdom\u201d (<em>sapientia<\/em>) and \u201cempire\u201d (<em>imperium<\/em>), and, more interestingly, how they pick up the art of remodelling and transforming them in order to speak to a fundamentally different political and religious situation.<\/p>\n<p><sup>1<\/sup>\u00a0His ego nec metas rerum nec tempora pono;<\/p>\n<p>Imperium sine fine dedi. Aen. 1.278f. Another significant passage on <em>imperium<\/em>\u00a0in the <em>Aeneid\u00a0<\/em>is Aen. 8.714\u20138.731.<\/p>\n<p><sup>2<\/sup>\u00a0[&#8230;] nec metas rerum nec tempora ponit,<\/p>\n<p>Imperium sine fine dabit. Civ. II 29, p. 96, ll. 7\u20138.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Conrad Leyser (Univ. Oxford), \u201cTwo Concepts of the Secular\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Is \u2018the secular\u2019 an idea\u2014or is it a thing? Much discussion presumes the latter. There are, accordingly, histories of secularization, usually in conjunction with some notion of modernity; or of the reverse process, \u2018de-secularization\u2019, which Robert Markus in <em>The End of Ancient Christianity\u00a0<\/em>(1990) saw as taking place in the period from Augustine to Gregory the Great. In his earlier study, <em>Saeculum\u00a0<\/em>(1970), however, Markus had treated \u2018the secular\u2019 in a different way, as a category within Augustine\u2019s theology of history and the social order. The \u2018secular\u2019 in this sense is not descriptive: it is a political intervention, a way of designating a neutral zone, in which all parties must suspend claims to absolute certainty and make what peace they can. This lecture is an attempt to untangle these two notions of the secular, by looking at the reception of Augustine in early medieval and in modern contexts.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Sean Hannan (MacEwan Univ.), \u201cMessianic Politics and the Present Time: Augustine\u2019s <em>Distentio <\/em>against Agamben\u2019s <em>Kairos<\/em>\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Taking his lead from Walter Benjamin\u2019s messianic present and Martin Heidegger\u2019s primordial temporality, Giorgio Agamben has expressed discomfort with received notions of \u2018ordinary time.\u2019 Striving to break free of this view of time as empty and homogeneous, he has sought out ways to rethink time as more meaningful and fulfilled, ultimately taking Pauline messianism as his model. In the Apostle Paul\u2019s transformative use of the phrase <em>\u1f41 \u03bd\u1fe6\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2\u00a0<\/em>(or: \u201cthe now-time\u201d), Agamben sees a crucial first step towards the overcoming of empty <em>chronos <\/em>(time\u00a0<em>simpliciter<\/em>). Agamben\u2019s project, as glimpsed through the early work <em>Infancy and History\u00a0<\/em>and the later exegesis of Paul in <em>The Time That Remains<\/em>, can thus be seen as an attempt to bring time back to life by way of <em>kairos<\/em>, the messianic present of Paul.<\/p>\n<p>This paper aims to reappraise the feasibility of Agamben\u2019s project by contrasting it with an account of time offered by another foundational figure of Christianity: Augustine of Hippo. In the eleventh book of his <em>Confessions<\/em>, Augustine confronts the challenge posed by temporality, especially the paradox of the present. As it turns out, the present, which seems to be the foundational point of temporal existence, also tends to disappear into fleeting nothingness whenever we begin to reflect upon it. This absence of the present leads Augustine to conceive of temporality as <em>distentio <\/em>or \u201cstretching-apart.\u201d By this, he means that time is a kind of tensile force which stretches temporal beings apart, destabilizing them from within.<\/p>\n<p>By contrasting Augustinian <em>distentio\u00a0<\/em>with Agamben\u2019s retrieval of the Pauline <em>kairos<\/em>, we can get a better idea of whether or not ancient Christian thought still harbours potential for humankind\u2019s ongoing attempt to make sense of temporality. More pressingly, this contrast will allow us to determine what kinds of political futures are left open by the Augustinian and Pauline approaches to time. For Agamben, certainly, the question of time is always a political one; his interest in Pauline messianism is ultimately rooted in a commitment to revolutionary politics in the Benjaminian tradition.<\/p>\n<p>Augustine, meanwhile, was less amenable to political messianism, which does not mean that his philosophy of time is necessarily without political consequences. The question that remains is: what kind of politics is made possible by an approach to the present time that refuses to name it as a messianic moment of wholesale transformation? To suggest a tentative thesis: perhaps the possibility for social change does not limit itself to auspicious instants or key <em>kairoi<\/em>.\u00a0 Perhaps, instead, a rejection of imminent messianism and an embrace of homogeneous time can open up all of temporality\u2014all of history\u2014to the possibility of change.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Josh Timmermann (UBC), \u201c<em>Tempora periculosa, dies mali: <\/em>Tyconius, Augustine, and Their Carolingian Readers\u2019 Responses to Pauline Eschatology\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>In the New Testament letters traditionally attributed to Paul, there are numerous warnings about the \u201cdangerous times\u201d and \u201cevil days\u201d fast approaching, divine portents for the End of time. While some recent historical scholarship insists that Paul fully expected the End to arrive within his lifetime or soon after, other modern commentators\u2014including, notably, the contemporary philosopher Giorgio Agamben\u2014hold that Paul was anticipating not the ultimate times of the Apocalypse, but the <em>penultimate\u00a0<\/em>times. The implications of this difference are highly significant, yet both approaches emphasize the deep sense of eschatological, or messianic, tension shot through the Pauline epistolary corpus. It is the fateful draining-out of this tension from later Catholic doctrine with which Agamben takes issue in his polemical essay\u00a0<em>The Church and the Kingdom<\/em>. Yet, in that short essay, building from his earlier <em>The Time That Remains<\/em>, Agamben is only able to give a cursory summary of the long and complex trajectory by which the messianic temporality of Paul became relatively muted, interpreted in ways that allowed for the Church to develop and flourish as a singular (temporal) ecclesio-political entity.<\/p>\n<p>My paper will focus on two moments within that longer trajectory: First, on the strategies for interpreting difficult, eschatological scriptural passages that took root in late Roman Africa, particularly in the writings of the Donatist theologian Tyconius, who developed a \u201cspiritual\u201d approach to scriptural hermeneutics, and of Augustine, who was significantly influenced by Tyconius\u2019s ideas despite his schismatic affiliation. Second, on the readings and discursive uses of eschatological passages in the Pauline letters during the Carolingian era, a period marked by its major writers\u2019 constant emphases on correction, reform, and the importance of learning from the teachings of the Church\u2019s great, orthodox authorities\u2014including, of course, Augustine, but also to some extent Tyconius, upon whom Augustine had, in the words of one modern historian, \u201cbestowed the benediction of patristic authority.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Tyconius and Augustine bequeathed to the early Middle Ages an eschatology that was predominantly ecclesiological in its orientation, which Carolingian readers subtly adapted to address concerns specific to their own circumstances. Although it was almost universally agreed that they were living in the Sixth, and final, Age of the World, the \u201cradical agnosticism\u201d of Augustine and Tyconius regarding the precise date of the End, the ability for humans to confidently predict it, and the durations of the world\u2019s temporal Ages meant that preparation of the Christian community was urgently necessary as the world <em>could\u00a0<\/em>end at any time, but also that planning for a longer-term future of <em>ecclesia\u00a0<\/em>and <em>imperium\u00a0<\/em>was possible, and indeed prudent, because the Sixth Age <em>could\u00a0<\/em>stretch on for many more generations. The central role of the institutional Church\u2014Tyconius\u2019s <em>corpus bipartitum<\/em>, made <em>corpus permixtum\u00a0<\/em>in Augustine\u2019s Catholicizing adaptation\u2014in this eschatological equation coincided, in the Carolingian context, with the indispensable role of the Frankish sovereign as \u201cguarantor\u201d of orthodoxy throughout the <em>imperium Christianum<\/em>. A new and particular sort of Christian politics, structured by a distinctive \u201cpolitical theology\u201d (in something close to the Schmittian sense of this term), took shape from this politicized ecclesiology. Examining the uses and interpretations of key eschatological passages in the Pauline letters is one possible, particularly revealing window onto these critical developments in the history of Christian thought and discourse, and onto the shaping of earlier figures and their (novel) ideas as suitably \u201cpatristic\u201d and thus functionally authoritative.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Catherine Conybeare (Bryn Mawr College), \u201c<em>\u2018Ubi cubes in meridie?\u2019\u00a0<\/em>Augustine, Africa, and the Song of Songs\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Augustine of Hippo is today celebrated in Algeria as a great pre-Islamic thinker and native son. To African American Catholics, he is an unofficial saint of refuge. But to many in his own time and place, Augustine was not African enough. In this paper, building on my essay \u201cAfricitas Augustini Hipponensis\u201d (<em>JMLat<\/em>2015), I shall focus on the African Christians whom Augustine dubbed schismatic and \u201cDonatists,\u201d and specifically on their reading of the Song of Songs. This reading survives to us only in Augustine\u2019s derisive commentary upon it in his sermons (notably sermons 46, 138, and 162A); but from these sermons we learn that the Song of Songs provides part of the justification to the Donatists for situating the true church in Africa.<\/p>\n<p>Characterizing Donatism as an African protest movement goes back at least to Frend 1952. Tilley 1997 and Merdinger 1997 provide the theological angle. What I wish to do in this paper is something rather different: to attempt to reconstruct the affective dynamics inherent in the Donatists\u2019 reading of the Song of Songs; and to trace the violence that Augustine\u2019s opposition to it performs on his own African identity. I shall use two more or less contemporary texts to illuminate these dynamics. The first is the best-known novel of the great Algerian Berber writer Kateb Yacine, <em>Nedjma\u00a0<\/em>(1956), which may be read as an allegory of the search for origins and for a political situatedness, focused through the beloved but elusive female figure of Nedjma herself. The second is the new non-fiction work by Wael B. Hallaq, <em>Restating Orientalism\u00a0<\/em>(2018), which argues that \u201csecular humanism \u2026 is not only anthropocentric, <em>structurally\u00a0<\/em>intertwined with violence, and incapable of sympathy with the nonsecular Other, but it is also anchored, per force, in a structure of thought wholly defined by modes of sovereign domination.\u201d Ultimately I shall argue that in this instance Augustine was \u201cincapable of sympathy with the nonsecular Other,\u201d and that the urgent hostility of his response to the Donatists betrays the inescapable interpenetration of politics and theology, complicated by personal loyalties suppressed and disavowed.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Matthew Gillis (UT Knoxville), \u201cThey Devour My People Like Bread: Suffering and the Sacred\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>In this paper I examine the theme of the sacred and the sacrilegious in Abbo of Saint-Germain\u2019s <em>Sermo<\/em> 14 <em>De fundamento et incremento Christianitatis<\/em> (<em>On the Foundation and Growth of Christianity<\/em>). Beginning with a discussion of Friedrich Nietzsche\u2019s <em>On the Genealogy of Morality<\/em> as an anti-theological tract that uses the tools of the theologian to dismantle moral theology, the paper then considers how the genealogical method is theological in origin. I use Abbo\u2019s early tenth-century sermon to argue that theological genealogy\u2019s goal was to reveal the truth of earthly and spiritual power by assembling their meaning from scripture, which was both powerfully historical and moral, while always remaining <em>more than<\/em> historical in its spiritual, unearthly potential. My central focus is Abbo\u2019s monsters\u2014the <em>raptores<\/em>\u2014sacrilegious, flesh-eating horrors that plagued the contemporary church. I approach these monsters as a mode of theological expression, which enabled Abbo to cast the clerical and monastic orders as the sacred city of God. Abbo depicted the city of God and its enemies in terms that were both historical and beyond time in order to fashion &#8220;true Christians&#8221; as the <em>raptores&#8217;<\/em> victims. In this sense, my paper turns the tables on Nietzsche\u2019s historical and \u201cuntimely\u201d genealogical methods, by revealing how he simply inverted Christianity\u2019s traditional monsters and victims in his anti-theological tract in order to envision a post-moral world.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Mo Pareles (UBC), \u201cWulfstan\u2019s Captive Woman\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>The war captive of Deuteronomy 21:10-14, stripped of pagan raiments and converted to wifehood, is a well-known figure of translation and interpretation from Origen and Jerome to the moderns. The steps of stripping, re-adorning, and transforming the woman enact the sovereignty of her husband\/captor over her body and, by analogy, that of the masculine translator over his text. This figure reappears in a new guise in the\u00a0<em>Sermo Lupi ad Anglos<\/em>\u00a0(Sermon of the Wolf to the English, C-revision of 1014), as Wulfstan II, Archbishop of York, rebukes the English for sins that have left them open to conquest, including (he claims) the routine purchase and resale of women for sexual assault, first by their own people and then by the conquerors. Here,\u00a0<em>translatio imperii<\/em> is portrayed as the transfer of an abused woman without any of the glamour with which this trope usually appears in the rhetoric of linguistic (literary and Biblical) translation. This passage has been read as an allusion to real violence against women and as a (still) shocking rhetorical flourish, but it is rarely recognized as a Biblical translation\u2014in fact, a condensed sequence of Bible translations consistent with Wulfstan\u2019s audacious habit of rewriting the Old Testament as a source of English legal authority. This paper reads Wulfstan\u2019s captive woman at the intersection of political and sexual sovereignty, as the abrogation of a woman\u2019s sovereignty over her own body (or, more precisely, the abrogation of God\u2019s sovereignty over the woman\u2019s body) becomes central to Anglo-Saxon land claims in a time of conquest.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Noah Blan (Univ. Michigan), \u201cTheorizing a Carolingian Ecological Sovereignty\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>This paper examines how making better Christians (<em>correctio<\/em>) intertwined with controlling nature in the eighth- and ninth-century pan-European Carolingian empire. It proposes a complex of ideas about righteous control of environments that helped to justify Carolingian domination that I call \u201cCarolingian ecological sovereignty.\u201d This concept helps explain how the rhetoric and exercise of power over nature legitimated Carolingian claims of hegemony over bodies and spaces in Europe.<\/p>\n<p>My sense of ecological sovereignty rests on a critical reading of what Giorgio Agamben calls the \u201canthropological machine,\u201d meaning the mechanism by which people articulated human ontology by identifying and excluding what is non-human as the basis for political power. Agamben claims that its modern incarnation functions by \u201canimalizing the human,\u201d while premodern variants tended to humanize the animal. In either era the \u201canthropological machine\u201d depended on the exceptional existence of a person whose truly human characteristics could never be fully realized but only refined and rearticulated in opposition to what was less human. This paper challenges Agamben\u2019s epochal bifurcation of sovereignty by examining Carolingian sources that both animalized humans and humanized animals. At the center of the Carolingian \u201canthropological machine\u201d was the unattainable \u201cnew Adam\u201d\u2014Christ in final perfection, but imperfectly embodied by his human designate, Charlemagne, whose human failings tied into both personal and collective salvation.<\/p>\n<p>The paper asks not where we may locate Agamben\u2019s machine in the eighth and ninth centuries, but rather how sovereignty predicated on the domination, supervision, and \u201credemption\u201d of nature shaped Carolingian discourses of power. As Courtney Booker and Abigail Firey have shown, Carolingian politics were constrained, stretched, and impelled by religious and cultural discourses shared among Carolingian elites, who shaped and were reshaped by these interpretive frameworks over the course of the eighth and ninth century. This paper exposes a discourse of \u201chappy kingdoms,\u201d which emerged in the 780s and 790s, that proved a key constitutive element both in Charlemagne\u2019s kingship and in that of Carolingian rulers who came after him. It represented the Carolingian empire as a garden-paradise, showing how Carolingian thinkers saw in prevailing environmental conditions the measure of the ruler\u2019s success or failure.<\/p>\n<p>The discourse reflected neither an explicit \u201ccaesaropapism\u201d on Charlemagne\u2019s part, nor a deceptively \u201cpolitical Augustinism\u201d\u2014the untoward expansion of ecclesiastical-political power within and over the state. While the discourse of \u201chappy kingdoms\u201d derived from an amalgam of ancient, biblical, and patristic sources, Augustine\u2019s texts were only several of many such Carolingian repurposings. And, following Mayke de Jong\u2019s work, the entangling of Frankish church and Carolingian state reflected not ecclesiastical overreach, but rather the working out of Carolingian theology and politics according to the goals of <em>correctio<\/em>. Carolingian ecological sovereignty was inflected by <em>correctio<\/em>, and therefore in the \u201credemption\u201d and proper management of bodies and spaces. Theorizing a Carolingian ecological sovereignty shows the era to be a vital \u201cmissing link\u201d in the long and circuitous history of sovereignty in western political history\u2014one that connects Augustine (via his early medieval interlocutors) to Agamben.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Abigail Firey (Univ. Kentucky), \u201c\u2018The split and shaken throne\u2019: Pivots in Political Theology in Tenth-Century Western Francia\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Theories of sacral kingship may operate well when royal or imperial power is relatively stable, or when the memory of consolidated royal or imperial power is fresh enough to substitute for stability.\u00a0 What, however, happens to political theology when royal power changes hands frequently, and competes with other, ascendant forms of power, such as that exercised by counts and bishops?\u00a0 Because the end of the Carolingian dynasty is often treated historiographically as a \u201ctransfer of empire\u201d to the Ottonians, surprisingly little attention has been given to the political theology set forth by bishops in western Francia in the tenth century, where the throne alternated between Carolingian and Capetian scions, before passing definitively into Capetian control.\u00a0 During this period of royal instability and rising comital power, two councils, held at Fismes (881) and Trosly (909), offered descriptions of governmental powers. Their records show substantial shifts from a sacralised royal identity to a division of royal and ecclesiastical powers.<\/p>\n<p>The Council of Trosly is reckoned as one of the most extraordinary expositions of political theory composed before the later middle ages. It details the honor of the church and the conduct of kings.\u00a0 Trosly\u2019s description of government writ large is a performative appeal to past authorities, to imply a seemingly timeless foundation for governmental powers. Despite that performance, Trosly suggests that some of the foundations of the political edifice erected by the Carolingians were cracking.\u00a0 In pressing the question of relations between secular and ecclesiastical powers, Trosly began to pivot toward distinction between those powers. While still citing Scripture, patristics, and Carolingian capitularies as authorities, Trosly extended political theory by integrating excerpts from \u00a0the <em>Liber Scintillarum\u00a0<\/em>of Defensor of Ligug\u00e9, and the anonymous <em>De duodecim abusivis saeculi<\/em>. Whereas conciliar texts previously eschewed citation of contemporary or recent works, Trosly drew on the legacy of Hincmar of Reims, especially his <em>De ecclesiis et capellis<\/em>, and on the Council of Fismes (881), the record of which was drafted by the aged Hincmar, as one of his last acts.<\/p>\n<p>The result was a more oppositional relationship between ecclesiastical and secular lords, rather than the collaborative arrangement that had proven so effective in governing the Carolingian empire. \u00a0In this respect, these councils foreshadow the rhetoric of Gelasian political theology that would escalate in the Ottonian empire and papal principalities in the next century.\u00a0In western Francia, however, the pressure on ecclesiastical privileges was not from growing imperial power, but from the fragmentation of royal authority and either delegation or usurpation of that authority to counts. \u00a0The collaboration between secular and ecclesiastical elite crumbled without the theocratic ideology that had been its adhesive. \u00a0Lacking the mimesis of divine kingship, and the imagery and rituals asserting the role of king or emperor as vicarious representative of divine authority, comital power was blatantly mundane. \u00a0What political theology could impose a theoretical order in this situation? That is the question this paper seeks to address.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Geoffrey Koziol (UC Berkeley), \u201cNecessity, Exception, and Post-Carolingian Justification of Rebellion\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>This paper examines three at least partially successful political rebellions of the late- and post-Carolingian world: those of Boso of Vienne (879), Robert of Neustria (922), and the Saxons (1073). All three share a striking commonality: they justify rebellion in terms of \u201cnecessity.\u201d This appears to have been a borrowing from the Pseudo-Isidorean Decretals, in particular, a pseudo-decretal of Felix IV which had introduced the maxim \u201c<em>Necessitas non legem habet<\/em>.\u201d The allusion to the maxim hints at a degree of hitherto unsuspected learning and self-reflection on the part of the rebellions\u2019 leaders, as well as suggesting that later rebellions learned from earlier ones, so that \u201cnecessity\u201d came close to an accepted doctrine of rebellion. The questions are why necessity came to play this role, and whether reliance on a doctrine of necessity had anything to do with the success of these rebellions.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Michael Moore (Univ. Iowa), \u201cPolitical Augustinism: Modern Political Theology and the Carolingians\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>The thesis of political Augustinism, put forward in 1937 by H.-X. Arquilli\u00e8re, in his book <em>l&#8217;Augustinisme politique<\/em>, has been exceptionally influential. The book has served as a touchstone for scholars of medieval political thought, especially for students of the Carolingian period. This paper will re-examine Arquilli\u00e8re&#8217;s thesis in light of Carolingian evidence, and suggest that Augustine did not dominate political thought quite as Arquilli\u00e8re\u00a0argued.<\/p>\n<p>Secondly, Arquilli\u00e8re&#8217;s contribution to the history of medieval political thought was made in the context of French-language discussions of political theology. The debate on <em>politische Theologie\u00a0<\/em>first emerged among German thinkers (C. Schmitt and E. Peterson) and was then taken up with a very different tonality by French thinkers, who explored in turn a somewhat different concept of <em>th\u00e9ologie politique\u00a0<\/em>(J. Maritain, H.-X. Arquilli\u00e8re). French thinkers (E. Gilson included) were concerned to revive the importance of theology for the modern world, while rejecting the neo-Catholic nationalist politics of Maurras and the <em>Action fran\u00e7ais<\/em>. In the framework of these debates one can point to certain developments in medieval historiography, in the cases of Alois Dempf and Ernst Kantorowicz, which had their own connections to the German tradition of political theology.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Mark Vessey (UBC), \u201cPolitical Augustinianism in the Canadian West:\u00a0C. N. Cochrane\u2019s\u00a0<em>Christianity and Classical Culture: A Study of Thought and Action from Augustus to Augustine<\/em>\u00a0(1940)\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>This paper will go behind the historiographical horizon sketched 20 years ago in my introduction to the proceedings of the 27<sup>th\u00a0<\/sup>annual Medieval Workshop at UBC, published as \u2018History, Apocalypse and the Secular Imagination: New Essays on Augustine\u2019s <em>City of God<\/em>\u2019 in <em>Augustinian Studies\u00a0<\/em>30.2 (1999). That horizon was marked by a lecture given in Montreal in 1950 by H.-I. Marrou, entitled <em>L\u2019Ambivalence du temps de l\u2019histoire chez saint Augustin<\/em>, origin for a research trajectory that would reach its highpoint with R. A. Markus\u2019s <em>Saeculum: History and Society in the Theology of St. Augustine\u00a0<\/em>(1970) and extend through the same author\u2019s later work down to <em>Christianity and the Secular\u00a0<\/em>(2006), as well as (e.g.) into Peter Brown\u2019s <em>The Rise of Western Christendom\u00a0<\/em>(2<sup>nd<\/sup>edn. 2003). For the 45<sup>th\u00a0<\/sup>Workshop, I look back a decade further, not in this instance to Marrou\u2019s <em>Saint Augustin et la fin de la culture antique\u00a0<\/em>(1938), now almost universally acknowledged as the founding experiment for what would belatedly appear as Anglo-American \u2018late antiquity,\u2019 but to a work signed off by its author from \u2018Oxford, July 1939,\u2019 so 80 years ago next spring, with words of gratitude for help received \u2018from Professor R. G. Collingwood and Mr. R. Syme.\u2019 Innocent of both Schmitt\u2019s \u2018Politische Thelogie\u2019 and Arquill\u00e8re\u2019s <em>L\u2019Augustinisme politique<\/em>, Cochrane\u2019s <em>Christianity and Classical Culture\u00a0<\/em>probably has a better claim than either to be seen as the repressed theological-political \u2018other\u2019 of mainstream, post-1960s Anglophone historical scholarship having Augustine as its subject. It is now a very strange book, not only because of the way it was written off the scene by Marrou-Markus-Brown. Part of its strangeness was original to Cochrane (1889\u20131945), an Ontario-born classicist and ancient historian who taught at the University of Toronto, published books on the Canadian explorer David Thompson (1924) and on Thucydides (1929), and died before he could produce the book of a set of lectures on the <em>City of God\u00a0<\/em>that he had just given at Yale University. Another factor, more significant than any influence of Ronald Syme\u2019s beyond the work\u2019s initial focus on an Augustan \u2018revolution,\u2019 was the idealist philosophy of history developed in the 1920s and \u201830s by R. G. Collingwood (1889\u20131943), a writer whose extraordinarily rich and challenging intellectual legacy has been seized upon afresh over the last few decades but not yet, so far as I am aware, had much exposure in contemporary genealogies and projects of late Romanism, early medievalism or historically minded para-Augustinianism. By going back to a pre-WW2 moment in intellectual history that is also a nearly prehistoric moment for our present disciplinarity, and teasing out the special character of Cochrane\u2019s somewhat (how?) Collingwoodian contribution to thinking \u2018western\u2019 politics, histories and theologies over the <em>longue dur\u00e9e<\/em>, I hope to give another posthumous twist to a career that has already been convincingly credited with helping to inspire such later Canadian adventures in large-scale cultural and cognitive history as those associated with the names of Harold Innis, Northrop Frye and Marshall McLuhan.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Gy\u00f6rgy Ger\u00e9by (Central European Univ., Budapest), \u201c\u2018There is no church without an emperor\u2019: On the Political Theology of the Christian Roman Empire\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>The term &#8220;Byzantium&#8221; is a legacy of post-reformation Western scholarship. In order to understand the strategies of legitimacy in the Eastern Roman Empire one ought to add &#8220;Christian,&#8221; since the Christian aspect, as it is well known, became a foundational aspect of the surviving Eastern Empire. While originally the Christian attitude towards the Empire was ambiguous, a new imperial legitimacy developed following the Gospel of Luke, as interpreted originally by Melito, Origen and Eusebius, but then developed further by e.g. Romanos. The normative idea of the Empire became attached to the Christian polity as a means of achieving the universal mission. (Not without certain caveats, like the ones raised by Gregory Nazianzen.) Again, since the role of the Empire was thought of as a temporal institution (as reflected in the legends of the &#8220;Last Emperor&#8221;), the roles of the emperor and the church (the oecumenical patriarch) were separate, while at the same time mutually interdependent. The two realms were to be unified at the eschaton (reflected in the iconography of the &#8220;hetoimasia&#8221;). Runciman justly called this arrangement as &#8220;theocracy&#8221; but as Dagron has shown it, there was no &#8220;caesaropapism.&#8221; The paper will look at the specifics of the foundations of the claims of legitimacy by analysing the well-known epistle of patriarch Antony IV to the Great Prince of Moscow (1396), and the <em>De caermoniis <\/em>of Konstantine Porphyrogennetos. Comparing the letter of Pope Gelasius to Emperor Anastasius to the Novella VI of Justinian and the epistle of Theodore the Studite to emperor Nikephoros provides interesting differences in political theology.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Ana M. Montero (Saint Louis Univ.), \u201cRoyal Theological Virtues and Political Propaganda: Alfonso and Isabel of Castile\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>In the years 1344\u20131351, Franciscan Juan Garc\u00eda de Castrojeriz composed a commentary of the <em>De regimine principum\u00a0<\/em>written by the General Prior of the Augustinian order and Aristotelian thinker, Giles of Rome (c. 1243\u20131316). This political vernacular treatise, known as <em>Glosa castellana al Regimiento de Pr\u00edncipes<\/em>, arguably became the most influential synthesis of politics and theology in Castile (maybe only surpassed by the Alfonsine second <em>Partida<\/em>). In this paper we investigate the influence of <em>Glosa castellana\u00a0<\/em>at the delicate juncture taking place during last years of Enrique IV\u2019s contested reign. More precisely, we aim to compare two works composed under the influence of the <em>Glosa castellana\u00a0<\/em>for the education of those future princes that could inherit the throne after failed king Enrique IV. One is the <em>Exortaci\u00f3n o informaci\u00f3n de buena e sana doctrina, <\/em>penned by Pedro de Chinchilla circa 1467 and addressed to prince Alfonso, who briefly reigned as Alfonso XII. The second work is <em>Jard\u00edn de nobles doncellas\u00a0<\/em>by fray Mart\u00edn de C\u00f3rdoba, a treatise written after Alfonso\u00b4s death in 1468, as a way to build up political support among the nobility for Isabel, Enrique\u00b4s half-sister and future queen of Castile. In these two works, as it could be expected, both candidates to the Castilian throne are said to stand in for God vicariously, a tour de force that was more difficult to achieve in the case of Isabel for obvious gender issues within a society with a prevalent misogynistic worldview. Therefore, both Alfonso and Isabel were taught different virtues and embodied a slightly different conception of justice that still pointed to the supremacy of Christian justice they should embody\u2014thus, whereas faith is the first virtue for Alfonso, mercy is highlighted in the case of Isabel who is arguably the first Iberian princess to be equated to Virgin Mary. For this act of bold Christian propaganda, fray Mart\u00edn de C\u00f3rdoba combined Castrojeriz\u00b4s ideas with images taken from Seneca\u00b4s <em>On clemency<\/em>. Briefly, the <em>Glosa castellana al Regimiento de Pr\u00edncipes\u00a0<\/em>and <em>Sobre la clemencia\u00a0<\/em>(which had been translated into Castilian by Alonso de Cartagena in the 1430s) fed the propaganda machinery that would strengthen the alliance between theology and politics while paving the way for the development of absolutism. This movement would be contested through literary works such as <em>C\u00e1rcel de amor <\/em>and <em>Celestina <\/em>by means of the portrayal of female cruel characters.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Lester Field, Jr. (Univ. Mississippi), \u201cFrom \u03a0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f74 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03af\u03b1 to \u2018Political Theology\u2019: From Hellenic Religion to Modern Ideology and Historiographical\u00a0Commonplace\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Avoiding current typologies, which, at best, describe the past in present terms rather than explain it in its own, a careful examination of historical usage seems in order. Ironically, given modern recourse to his work, Eusebius of Caesarea coined \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f74 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03af\u03b1 in terms of \u0395\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u1f74 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03af\u03b1\u2014not Christianity\u2014and contextually, his usage hardly seems unique or novel. Porphyry, for example, had used \u1f00\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03b5\u03bf\u03c4\u03ac\u03c4\u03b7 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03af\u03b1 in much the same way. By Hellenic and Hellenistic understandings, after all, \u03b5\u1f50\u03c3\u03ad\u03b2\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1 entailed definition ranging from \u201creligion\u201d to \u201cloyalty,\u201d that is, to the state. The <em>polis\u00a0<\/em>itself seemed sacral as well as \u201cnatural.\u201d As Aristotle put it, \u201cOnly gods and beasts live apart.\u201d As Augustine\u2019s critique of Varro\u2019s <em>theologia civilis\u00a0<\/em>attested, such understandings proved regionally or linguistically diffuse as well as archeologically deep.<\/p>\n<p>By the same token, the ancient \u201cchurch\u201d described itself as the \u1f10\u03ba\u03ba\u03bb\u03b7\u03c3\u03af\u03b1, which, in pre-Christian Greek had indicated the representative assembly of the polis. The term, which passed into Christian Latin as <em>ecclesia<\/em>, had presupposed its self-understanding as political assembly of the City or Kingdom of God. It re-presented the City of God; so its \u03b4\u03cc\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1 seemed \u201claw.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Eventually \u201cliturgical\u201d constitutions in Byzantium and Europe made the emperor the temporal head of the Church on earth. Conversely, with the re-emergence of Roman law, \u201claw-centered kingship\u201d increasingly replaced liturgical rule with an institutionally distinct, if not yet separate, \u201cchurch\u201d and \u201cstate.\u201d Even before the Enlightenment, in 1670, Spinoza\u2019s <em>Tractatus Theologico-politicus\u00a0<\/em>attempted to define the foundation of this \u201cnew\u201d order. Since it remained problematic even after the American and French Revolutions, Auguste Comte did likewise in 1822. Presupposing the \u201cprogress of civilization,\u201d Comte argued that \u201ctheological politics,\u201d which had given way to \u201cmetaphysical politics,\u201d now had to give way to \u201cpositive politics.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>In 1922, the jurisprudent, Carl Schmitt, coined \u201cpolitical theology.\u201d Addressing God politically, acclamations to \u201cone God,\u201d explored by Erik Peterson fascinated Schmitt, all the more since they pertained to the \u1f10\u03ba\u03ba\u03bb\u03b7\u03c3\u03af\u03b1 as the institutional extension of Christ\u2019s historical body. Since \u201cpolitical theology\u201d seemed not \u201cpart of theology but of political thought,\u201d imperial theology seemed secularization. Eusebius, for example, reverted to the cosmic monarchy, in which <em>Logos\u00a0<\/em>and emperor participated.<\/p>\n<p>Nicaea rejected it. Of \u201canarchy, polyarchy, and monarchy,\u201d Gregory Nazianzen explained, monarchy could neither impose unity on others of the same nature nor divide itself and so lost \u201cits political-theological character\u201d to ineffable Trinitarian community, which \u201cfundamentally fulfilled the break with any \u201cpolitical theology.\u201d Peterson pitied Schmitt, who had become a Nazi in 1933 and only cited him once, in the last footnote of <em>Monotheism as Political Problem<\/em>. Eschatological polity precluded further politicization; Trinity belied monarchy.<\/p>\n<p>Acknowledging Peterson\u2019s \u201cbrilliant discussion,\u201d Kantorowicz nonetheless posited \u201cChristian political theology\u201d: to the epicletic union of Christ\u2019s historical and \u201cmystical body,\u201d Western jurisprudence responded with the \u201cstate\u2019s mystical body\u201d or king\u2019s two bodies. Thanks to Kantorowicz and Peterson, then, a category of secular jurisprudence became historiographically invaluable, even commonplace.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Jon Beasley-Murray (UBC), \u201cFriends, Enemies, and Others: Political Theology and the Art of the Encounter\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Kevin Attell (Cornell Univ.), \u201cThe Empty Throne: Agamben and Political Theology\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Ever since the publication in 1995 of his <em>Homo Sacer: Sovereign Power and Bare Life<\/em>, Giorgio Agamben\u2019s work has drawn upon and been associated with debates concerning political theology. <em>Homo Sacer<\/em> also marks a significant move in Agamben\u2019s thought toward the overtly political philosophy that he has been pursuing for the last two decades and for which he is best known. This paper will examine the juncture in <em>Homo Sacer<\/em> where Carl Schmitt\u2019s account of sovereignty is incorporated into Agamben\u2019s work and will trace some of the theoretical and methodological developments arising from that moment.<\/p>\n<p><strong>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Pawel Figurski (Tadeusz Manteuffel Institute of History, Polish Academy of Sciences), \u201cBetween the Sacred and the Secular Kingdom:\u00a0Liturgical Struggles over the Proper Place of Politics in Medieval Christianity\u201d Robert Markus, in his retractatio\u00a0published a few years before his death, argued that \u201cChristian tradition has a legitimate place for the autonomy of the secular\u201d (2006, p. &hellip; <\/p>\n<p class=\"link-more\"><a href=\"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/ubcmedievalworkshop2019\/paper-abstracts\/\" class=\"more-link\">Continue reading<span class=\"screen-reader-text\"> &#8220;Paper abstracts&#8221;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":19584,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-75","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/ubcmedievalworkshop2019\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/75","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/ubcmedievalworkshop2019\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/ubcmedievalworkshop2019\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/ubcmedievalworkshop2019\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/19584"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/ubcmedievalworkshop2019\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=75"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/ubcmedievalworkshop2019\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/75\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":84,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/ubcmedievalworkshop2019\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/75\/revisions\/84"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/ubcmedievalworkshop2019\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=75"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}