The Medieval Anatolian Postal Service
My thesis draft is done. It’s submitted and I am now just waiting for the feedback. Rather, I should say I am waiting to have my hard work torn to shreds. Academia. Aren’t you just a beautiful beast!
The Dromos:
The Roman postal service, cursus publicus, or in Greek, dēmósios drómos, was a system of staging points or post stations that allowed for efficient travel and communications in the Roman Empire. (Insert modern postal service jokes here). The Eastern Roman Empire inherited the cursus publicus from its predecessor with very little difference in how the system was administered. Post stations were established at certain points along a series of roads and were meant to provide horses, resources (water, tools, lodging at some stations) and collect taxes from local communities. In the western reaches of the empire (modern Greece and the Balkans), post stations varied in size and function. Some were towers/road stations that provided water and fresh horses (instead of those horses that have been on the shelf for the past year), while other post stations were situated in villages and provided lodging and food. The dēmósios dromos, I proposed in my thesis, was one element of Çadır Höyük’s identity (the archaeology site I research in central Anatolia, Turkey).
A höyük is the Turkish word for a man-made mound. Above is Çadır Höyük, the site my research is based on. Photo credit: Scott Coleman.
As I discussed in my last post, identity is a tricky concept to unpack. When studying a person’s individual identity, and what it encompasses, we need to consider many elements that would impact or influence how one understood their own identity and those around them. Byzantinists have studied and continue to argue about the identity of those within the Eastern Roman world. Did all those who lived within Roman borders understand themselves as ethnic Romans? If not, then how was their identity constructed against the Roman identity? What roles did gender, class, religion and various other social and cultural influences play in the construction of identity?
Now, let’s shift these ideas into the communal identity!
What does identity mean when applied to the communal environment? To a settlement? Is there a separation between the imperial identity of the dromos when it is a part of the village community? Do the inhabitants identify — to some degree — with those who administer the dromos? Does a fortification wall create both a physical boundary and psychological boundary for those who live outside and inside its walls? What happens if those who reside within the fortification have a different ethnic, religious or political identity than those who live outside the walls and in that cozy little village below? What about little Timmy admiring the soldiers who live in the fortification? Does this affect his perception of the world and, thereby, affect and manipulates how he perceives his own identity?
Why am I back asking so many f@k’n questions?
See how complex this shit is. The settlement cannot be pigeon-holed into this singular function or identity as has been done by Byzantinists of the yesteryears. “Oh, look a fortification wall! It is a defensive position! Next.” — Random Byzantinists.
F@k No!
I proposed that the dromos was only one part of the Çadır Höyük’s identity. And this one part negotiated and interacted with each and every other part of the community. So, how do I know Çadır Höyük was part of the dromos system? I don’t. In fact, I don’t believe a single excavated settlement in central or eastern Anatolia has been investigated with this purpose in mind or identified as a post station. In other words, we really don’t know what an Anatolian post station physically looks like as we do with those in the Balkans and Greece. Therefore, there is no model to use to help identify what I am looking for. So this leads to another question: Did the post stations on the Anatolian plateau have a uniform architectural plan? Did they look the same? How did people identify them when travelling? How do we approach the study of the invisible?
Now What?
You’d think I would provide you with some resolution to these problems. Ha! Sadly, I have failed you but fear not. I have a plan. Well, kind of. In my first draft, I tried to overcome this obstacle by exploring the few excavated höyük settlements in eastern Anatolia and a curious pattern came to light. There was a notable uniformity to the construction of these fortifications that sat on top of the höyüks. Their architectural plans had common traits. Towers of similar size and shape projecting out from an unworked stone fortification with interior walls radiating inward in a spoked fashion to the centre of the mound with an open courtyard. These walls created rooms that abutted the fortification walls. Presumably to help strengthen the construction of the fortification and maximize resources and space.
Before we move forward, a disclaimer needs to be stated: You cannot base a settlement’s identity on its f@k’n architecture.
We’ve tried this and it f@k’n fails all the time. Am I doing this right now? In a way, yes…but wait and see where I am going with this. Byzantinists of old have focused on architectural structures to propose the identity and function of settlements and this eliminates the ebb and flow for the changing nature of identity. That is to say, one day a site may be a defensive position with soldiers and the next a storage area and refuge for those living in the settlement below. The next day it could be used as a post station. Who the f@k knows, but the main point is that we cannot say it functioned one way for two, three, or even five centuries. The physical fortification is a clue, a needle in the stack of needles that makes up the function, and identity, of a settlement. Get my drift. This one-way street type of thinking eliminates those “Common Folk” who lived in a settlement and places a hierarchical, and combative, method onto the study of these settlements. In other words, It avoids the social and cultural constructs of a settlement and squarely focuses on the larger “Byzantine” (I shudder every time I have to use this word) narrative. So, to avoid this F’n trap I started to explore road systems. Mapping out potential routes, then I explored the landscape, environment, literary sources to see how particular greek words were being used to describe settlements (what a cluster F@k that was) and examined the material culture recovered from the site in relation to everything else. I then used this evidence to explore the intersectionality of the site.
Intersection-Whhaaaaa?
Yea, the intersectionality of a site. Think of Çadır Höyük as a node, a place at the centre of a web where anything and everything that can impact and influence a settlement intersects and mixes with each other and then constructs multiple forms of identity. Then these different forms of identity are then sent back out into the world for all these other nodes within this web to interact with. The product of which produces common characteristics, or traits, that we (nerds like myself) can then identify and use to formulate theories about settlement identity. Elements that have been used to bring together often separated and overlooked variables for settlement identity.
Byzantine Intersectionality: Sexuality, Gender and Race in the Middle Ages by Roland Betancourt (Princeton University Press, 2020) is an amazing book you need to read. Though my research is not specifically on the topic presented in Betancourt’s book, it is his methods that need to be applied to all aspects of Byzantine studies. This is what I am trying to do.
For example, soldiers garrisoned at a fortified site with a local population that is a mixture of ethnic Romans and Bulgars may be perceived as an occupational force by some. But by others, they may be perceived as protectors. Maybe they are just some dudes waiting for the mail to show up, or they are the enforcers who were meant to help collect taxes from the population, or they are just the bodyguards of a settlement. If a site is or is part of, a post station, think about the many travellers coming through this settlement (imperial figures, foreign diplomats, other soldiers) that may interact with both the soldiers, administrators, the “Common folk” and their social structure and culture within the settlement. Have the travellers heard about this settlement? Is it the local hotspot for fun and games? Or do they provide the best-roasted mutton on this side of the Halys River? What form of settlement identity comes out of this hodgepodge of craziness is anyone’s guess but it should make it clear that settlement identity is a F@k’n shit-show of intersecting elements that all contribute to how each individual person understands a settlement’s identity. And by extension, how scholars understand the function and purpose of a settlement compared to those who lived the day-to-day life of the Eastern Roman world.
JD, The Armenian Soldier: A Dromos Story.
John-Doe the Armenian soldier was re-located to a remote post station on the opposite end of the empire after the Romans came and flattened his community, killed his friends and burned his house to the ground. Dramatic? Yes. Necessary? Meh! Now, JD is none the pleased that he is in this position. His family was taken away and relocated to another region of the empire. Where? He doesn’t know and he will never see them again. So, we can assume he is angry. But because of a treaty between the emperor and an Armenian prince who ruled over JD’s community, JD is now in the service of the emperor.
F@k-his-Life.
JD is garrisoned with other Armenian soldiers who — depending on the century we are discussing — may be miaphysite or Jacobites and are now in a very Nicean Christian region of the Empire. PS: I am not explaining the theology of that mess either. Look it up. You will not be disappointed. Now, JD is hiding this particular piece of information but in his mind, it eats away at him. He cannot practice his particular faith and must protect those who do not necessarily believe his beliefs about the nature of Christ. But let’s be fair, these people probably did not discuss this shit with each other. Other responsibilities, like feeding your kids — living — were kinda the priority rather than discussing if Jesus’ nature is of God and man, or a mixture of the two, or of the two but separate and distinct.
So, with that being said, can JD adjust to his new surroundings? Is this JD’s new home? What is a home? Is it a house, neighbourhood, community, or village? Town? City? Or is JD’s home still the settlement that was burned to the ground back in Armeniakon Theme? Will he get along with the “locals” and have friendly conversations or can they even communicate? If they cannot speak the same language then how does JD get his order across to Ron the Roman Baker, that he (JD) requires a baker’s dozen of quinoa and flaxseed bread for the garrison of Bulgarian soldiers coming through the settlement on their way to the eastern front to fight the Muslims? Does JD walk through the village and interact with the locals, or does he stay inside his fort and play Assasins Creed until he is told to do something by his superior? Is JD the commanding officer?
WHY ARE THERE SO MANY F@K’N QUESTIONS!?
JD is just one dude with a chip on his shoulder, figuratively and literally, in a village with a fortification on top of a höyük that overlooks a community of people who see stone walls and imperial soldiers. Just one person who contributes to the formation of the complex web of intersecting elements that creates settlement identity. So, to assume a fortification means a defensive position is not really going to cover the true nature of a settlement. Yes, there were fortifications meant as military outposts. But can we be sure that all fortifications were built for this purpose? No, we can’t. And if our boy JD is bringing all kinds of baggage with him, it is going to affect how he interprets and constructs, through his perspective, the identity of a settlement. To him, this place could just be a f@k’n prison and he is surrounded by people he loathes. Or, it is a new home where he gets fed three square meals a day and has a roof over his head. JD may very well have a better position now than he did back at his former place of residence. Maybe he is the new postmaster and runs this joint.
By this point, you must be like “Just get on with it Coleman. Christ, can you just give us some resolution to this story?” Nope, not at this time. This is going to take a while to figure out. But, I will write some more about this after I hand in my second draft and had all my ideas torn to bits. JD is going to have some interesting interactions in our next post and these may just help us understand how we can formulate and theorize about how to interpret a settlement’s identity.