“Our Father, which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.”
There she stood in the public square. Hands clasped together, praying children at her feet. The year is 304 A.D., and the height of the Diocletianic Persecution has been ushered in by the institution of the fourth edict. In a few moments, she will be told to renounce her God and make a public sacrifice to the Roman deities. When she refuses, she will be dragged from her children and subjected to imprisonment, torture, or execution. Her church will be razed to the ground by order of the Empire, and her religious texts will be confiscated. Her life has been turned upside down in every conceivable way.
So little has changed.
The Yazidis, a religious and ethnic minority in the Middle East, faced genocide by ISIS just a decade ago. Five thousand Yazidis were
martyred for their faith. Thousands more were forced into sexual slavery, and hundreds of thousands were made to leave their homes as refugees. And it isn’t just them. Uyghur Muslims in China have been forced into internment camps where they are subject to torture, sterilization, forced labor, and sexual abuse. Jews make up 2.4% of the United States population, yet they are the target of 60% of religion-related hate crimes. Christians are harassed in more countries than any other religion, and some have even been crucified for their faith.
What do we have to learn from the Diocletianic Persecution? By analyzing the historical evidence surrounding the event, I hope to identify similarities between ancient and modern religious persecutions. I am also interested in the sociocultural renewal of the persecuted, and hope to see similar renewals in the modern age.
The Diocletianic Persecution, also referred to as the Great Persecution, was characterized by a series of four edicts. In February of 303 A.D., Diocletian barred Christians from assembling for worship and ordered that their churches and scriptures be destroyed. A few months later, he mandated the imprisonment of Christian religious leaders. In the third edict, Diocletian allowed for these leaders to be freed on the condition that they would make a sacrifice to the Roman gods. In 304 A.D., all men, women, and children were presented with two options in the fourth and final edict: sacrifice to the Roman gods, or face imprisonment and death.
First, it is fascinating that the first edict does not mandate any bloodshed. It is primarily a law of state suppression. That is often how it starts: quietly. The Nuremberg Laws of Nazi Germany, for example, laid the foundational groundwork for the systematic imprisonment of the Jews. The Nazis didn’t start by immediately forcing Jews into concentration camps en masse. Rather, the state built up to it by first stripping Jews of their citizenship status, banning interfaith relations, and limiting Jews’ access to education.
We also see forced religious conversion in the modern age, such as the case of Nigeria’s jihadist organization Boko Haram targeting Christian populations. The parallels to 304 A.D. are, unfortunately, undeniable. We have reports of Boko Haram burning churches to the ground and killing those who refuse to convert.
Perhaps the most inspiring aspect of the Diocletianic Persecution was the recovery and renewal of the persecuted. Despite enduring so much, the Christian faith persisted. Stories of martyrs like the one told at the beginning of this article were likely clung to for inspiration in such a troubling time. These stories would have reminded them of the ultimate martyr, that lamb of God which served as the foundation of their faith, and his crucifixion at Golgotha. Christians likely descended into the catacombs or assembled in the houses of their brothers and sisters for secret, underground worship. Despite Diocletian’s best attempts, the state would not squash the faith of its subjects. You cannot truly squash faith.
How did a religion with this history of marginalization come to be the mainstream of the entire empire? Constantine, a later Roman ruler, would ultimately declare the Edict of Milan, returning both confiscated property and the right to worship freely to the people. The Christianization of Rome would ensue rapidly, and by 380 A.D., Christianity would be declared the official religion of the empire. Constantine’s Edict of Milan highlights the power of political reform and marked a significant step towards the ideals of liberalism which are highly valued in society today.
My hope is that we might see similar renewals among the persecuted peoples of modernity. State secularity and religious freedom should be rewarded in the liberal international order, and any deviation from those values ought to be heavily scrutinized. Support for the tormented and oppressed is vital. Together, we can work toward a world of justice and mercy.
Maintain faith, as they did.
Josef Westberg ‘27 studies in the College of Arts & Sciences. He can be reached at j.r.westberg@wustl.edu.