Journal of Early Christian Studies

Dioscorus of Alexandria was the immediate successor of Cyril, a tough act to follow. He took center stage at the second Council of Ephesus in 449, the so-called Latrocinium (“Robber Synod”), but only two years later he was deposed and exiled at the Council of Chalcedon. While the miaphysite tradition has revered him as a saint from the immediate aftermath of the council to the present day, Chalcedonians have vilified him as a heretic (along with Eutyches), even though, as Menze points out repeatedly, Chalcedon did not condemn him as such. Menze’s book, the first English-language monograph on Dioscorus, attempts to reconstruct the historical Dioscorus and rescue him from caricatures on both sides. Why did Dioscorus fail so miserably when Cyril succeeded so spectacularly? Menze [End Page 479] holds that politics rather than theology is the key to understanding Dioscorus and his times. He does not see Chalcedon as inevitable because of some sort of unfinished christological business; rather, it was only made possible by the accession of Emperor Marcian, for whom reconciliation with Rome was a top priority. Menze argues that Dioscorus was not a savvy politician like Cyril and was sucked into the christological quarrels of his era reluctantly, more a pawn of Theodosius than an instigator. Dioscorus, furthermore, was no mere epigone of Cyril, but a prelate with his own concerns, an able administrator, and an ecclesiastical reformer: a Cyrillian theologically, but anti-Cyrillian politically. Menze also contends that there is no indication that Marcian ever wanted Dioscorus deposed; this is due solely to the bishop’s own political blunders.

Menze begins with the Cyrillian legacy that Dioscorus inherited. He spends the bulk of the first chapter investigating the bribes that Cyril is known to have paid in Constantinople, arguing that these were paid in 432 (not earlier as is often held) because he remained theologically exposed by his Twelve Chapters. His goal was to get officials to cease making further demands on him and the Easterners regarding this issue. In this way, Cyril outmaneuvered John of Antioch and avoided retracting the Twelve Chapters. Menze calculated that the amount of gold Cyril paid would have exceeded the annual income of the Alexandrian church for several years, and so Cyril must have spent the accumulated savings of the church. In other words, Dioscorus inherited a massive debt upon becoming archbishop in 444. The Alexandrian clergy were impoverished, unhappy, and sought a change of direction.

Accordingly, Menze next turns to Dioscorus’s election and early tenure as bishop, suggesting that Dioscorus was a senior deacon of good standing, widely respected and trusted by most clergy, who as archdeacon defended their interests and probably took charge of the see when Cyril was ill toward the end of his reign. As new bishop, he took action against members of Cyril’s family to whom the late archbishop appears to have diverted illegally church property and wealth. Menze thus sees the election of Dioscorus as a rebuke, with the clergy seeking someone to restore sound administration and financial health to the see after Cyril’s abuses. So, in the early years of his episcopacy, Dioscorus legitimately prosecuted Cyril’s family members for misappropriating church property, purged the clergy of Cyril’s family, and attempted administrative and financial reforms: all this is what Menze means when he describes Dioscorus as anti-Cyrillian politically.

The third chapter examines Dioscorus’s role in the Eutychian affair, its aftermath, Ephesus II, and the lead-up to Chalcedon. Menze portrays Theodosius II as responsible for the renewed ecclesiastical quarrels of the late 440s and the Alexandrian bishop as his acquiescent “henchman.” Menze’s reconstruction of the Eutychian affair views Flavian of Constantinople as instigating Eusebius of Dorylaeum against Eutyches because the archimandrite was a political threat to him and his dyophysite allies who regarded the Reunion of 433 as the basis for orthodoxy. The charges against Eutyches amounted to repudiation of Theodosius’s vision of orthodoxy, which was based solely on Nicaea and Ephesus I. Theodosius convoked Ephesus II, according to Menze, because Flavian had publicly endorsed Constantinople 381 as the second ecumenical council (following [End Page 480] the lead of Theodoret of Cyrrhus), which was a clear rejection of the emperor’s imperial orthodoxy. Accordingly, Ephesus II was less about Eutyches and more about how to read the ecclesiastical past, whether Theodosius’s Cyrillian/imperial model or the dyophysite approach advocated by Theodoret. Theodosius orchestrated Ephesus II’s agenda, list of participants, and questionable procedures to ensure the outcome he wanted: the exoneration of Eutyches and the conviction of Flavian and Eusebius. Dioscorus his pliant henchman succeeded.

So why then was Dioscorus vilified after the council if he was only the pawn of the emperor? Menze suggests that Flavian, Eusebius, and Theodoret, in their appeals to Leo regarding the illegal procedures at Ephesus II, adapted the tactic of blaming Dioscorus for all the miscarriages of justice at the council, and then Leo adopted this approach in his appeals to Theodosius. It would not have made political sense for these bishops to blame the emperor. In other words, Dioscorus became a politically expedient scapegoat. Menze refutes evidence used in the past to show that Dioscorus was the guiding spirit behind Ephesus II, such as the misdeeds at Ephesus II that Dioscorus was charged with at Chalcedon. Menze speculates that so many were willing to make Dioscorus a scapegoat because he failed “to display the political boldness to stand up for the church as an institution against imperial encroachment” (149). In other words, Dioscorus let himself be used by the emperor, undermining ecclesiastical independence.

The fourth chapter turns to the Council of Chalcedon, where Dioscorus was deposed. How did this happen? Menze suggests that, despite Marcian’s view of the Tome as the basis for agreement and reconciliation, Dioscorus made his disdain for it known and even excommunicated Leo prior to the council. This only exacerbated tensions. Accordingly, the papal legates at Chalcedon usurped control by demanding that Dioscorus be tried, knowing that the recent acceptance of the Tome gave them leverage. Dioscorus must have agreed to be a defendant because he believed he would be exonerated. This proved to be a colossal miscalculation. At the third session, when Dioscorus protested that others beside himself were responsible for the irregular procedures at Ephesus II, his opponents made the politically shrewd move to admit plaintiffs who charged Dioscorus with crimes in Alexandria that had nothing to do with his presidency of Ephesus II. This clinched the case for his deposition.

This book is no mere project of “rehabilitating a heretic.” Menze presents a clear-eyed view of Dioscorus that is blind neither to his inadequacies nor to his strengths. In terms of methodology, Menze is as adept at assembling meager bits of evidence into a speculative portrait of Dioscorus as he is at teasing out the political realities behind the abundant, but perhaps not always reliable source material. He offers a careful, astute, and insightful interpretation of the evidence, while also stressing the tentative nature of his conclusions. His “politics rather than theology” approach has provided a new portrait of Dioscorus as a reforming prelate whose political incompetence proved to be his downfall. Menze’s monograph is thus now a necessary and indispensable complement to theological studies of the era. [End Page 481]