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Article

Secrecy, Politics, Monasteries, and Byzantine Iconoclasm

Department of Art History, Anadolu University, 26470 Eskisehir, Turkey
Religions 2026, 17(2), 176; https://doi.org/10.3390/rel17020176
Submission received: 3 December 2025 / Revised: 27 January 2026 / Accepted: 28 January 2026 / Published: 1 February 2026

Abstract

The Byzantine iconoclastic controversy (726–843) has sparked a debate among Byzantine scholars. The literature on iconoclasm and Byzantine history links the onset of the Iconoclasm period to various indirect factors, including the dual nature of Christ, the ban on idols in the Old Testament, the expansion of the Muslim empire, natural disasters, schisms, Leo III’s political motives, and many others. Debates in the Iconoclasm age between iconodules and iconoclasts created confusion in the literature, and researchers concluded that iconodules altered records of the first phase of iconoclasm by introducing theological concepts. However, theological debates over the nature of Christ obscured the iconoclastic emperors’ political intentions, as theology was generally exploited as a political tool in the Byzantine Empire. The complex interaction between Orthodox and Muslim religions, the wealth of monasteries, and the political ambitions of both Byzantine and Umayyad emperors were some of the leading causes of the process that led to the development of iconoclasm. This study proposes that theological arguments were used to conceal the emperors’ political motives by blaming others for violating the pillars of Christianity. Secrecy in foreign policy and covert operations contributed to the lack of direct evidence, hiding political motives behind theological arguments.

1. Introduction

The Byzantine Iconoclasm era (726–787 and 814–843) was a period marked by imperial bans on the use of icons. The controversy began in 726, when Emperor Leo III the Isaurian associated the use of icons with idolatry, as stated in the Second Commandment (Atkinson 1973). His son and successor, Constantine V, institutionalized iconoclasm by organizing the Council of Hieria in 754 (Brubaker and Haldon 2011, pp. 189–97). The first phase of the Iconoclasm era ended in 787, following the second Council of Nicaea, convened under the supervision of Empress Irene. However, the second iconoclasm period started in 813 under the reign of Emperor Leo V and continued until 843. Finally, Empress Theodora brought iconoclastic policies to an end, known as the “Triumph of Orthodoxy”.
The Byzantine iconoclastic controversy has caused a long-standing debate among Byzantinists. Without a clear answer, numerous books and articles have been published to explain the possible reasons for the Iconoclasm era. So, what initiated the theological debates? There is little consensus about the answer (Barber 2002). Moreover, a researcher seeking a plausible explanation for why Iconoclasm began by reading all available articles and books may end up with inconclusive answers, generating more questions than answers. There is much indirect evidence in historical books, chronicles, essays, letters, and decrees of Church councils. As Peter Brown expressed in 1973, “the Iconoclast controversy is in the grip of a crisis of over-explanation” (Brown 1973). Clearly, such an important event should have generated more direct evidence than we have today. This suggests that the actual causes of iconoclasm were concealed due to the vulnerability of the political situation at the time. However, iconoclast emperors insisted on their policies without compromise and benefited most. It is suggested that one reason the reigns of Leo III and his son, Constantine V, lasted long was their iconoclastic policies. As Haldon claims, icons and the devotion accorded them reduce the authority of the emperors and lead to the denial of imperial authority (Haldon 1977). Iconoclastic policies seem to help them extend their reigns.
As an interdisciplinary study, this work aims to analyze the complex interplay among political, theological, diplomatic, and economic factors that underpinned the iconoclastic policies of Byzantine iconoclastic emperors before and during the first iconoclasm period. The scope of this work is limited to the first part of Byzantine iconoclasm. However, theological discussions are excluded from this scope, as it is challenging to constrain them to that specific period. The outcomes of theological debates conducted over decades are known to resurface, be transformed, and be reinterpreted through the decrees of subsequent Church Councils and the works of theologians from later periods. Therefore, the ideas and writings of a second iconoclastic period theologian, Theodore the Studite, are also included in the discussion for completeness.
First, a brief survey of the literature will be presented to highlight common arguments and observations about the rise in Iconoclasm. This section is not intended to provide a comprehensive overview of the extensive literature on Byzantine Iconoclasm. Secondly, the invisibility of the Creator God and the dual nature of Christ will be discussed. Debates on the use of icons are generally based on the concept of the “invisibility of God,” and iconoclastic arguments regard this assertion as a “ground truth”. However, the literature lacks an elaborate analysis of why God is accepted as invisible, incomprehensible, and hidden beyond all things. This will facilitate an understanding of the theological motivation behind iconoclastic policies, since much of the literature on iconoclasm focuses on Christological arguments. The interaction between theology and icons is the third subject to be examined. The Church Fathers and theologians on this issue do not write systematically, and they respond reactively to polemics in controversies. Therefore, it is difficult to review such an intertwined literature. It is intended to present key theological points and introduce prominent figures. The reader is advised to read Pelikan’s (Pelikan 1990) and Tollefsen’s work (Tollefsen 2018) for a concise coverage. The next examines the relationship between theology and politics, and how it affected the onset of iconoclasm. There is a mutual connection between theology and politics, and theological changes, such as iconoclasm, hint at various political decisions of the Byzantine administration. Leo III’s consultants are another subject, as they seem to have played a significant role before and during Iconoclasm. The final topic focuses on why there is so little information about the causes of the first period of iconoclasm. The documentary “silence” in the first phase of iconoclasm is generally attributed to the later alteration of historical records. This section emphasizes the importance of covert operations and their potential role in contributing to the scarcity of direct evidence.

2. Literature Survey

Emperor Leo III initiated the iconoclastic era by forcibly removing the Christ Antiphonetes icon from the Chalke city gate in 726 (Gero 1973). In the following years, frescoes, icons, and paintings were taken away from churches (Atkinson 1973). The necessity of such a forceful removal of icons and paintings is questionable since church images are carefully designed and implemented, conforming to Christian theology and historical accounts of the life of Christ (Kitzinger 1954).
It is difficult to ignore the link between excessive icon use and Iconoclasm, given the numerous papers in the literature (Baynes 1951). According to Brown, one of the primary motivations for the iconoclasm was the need of believers for an intercessor to focus their attentions on (Brown 1973). If the widespread use of icons is true, the reason people worship icons is obviously the expectation that God’s grace will pass through them. However, evidence for the large-scale use of icons in Byzantine society is scarce (Brubaker and Haldon 2011, p. 53). Moreover, the expectation of God’s grace passing through images or any other physical objects was not common in Graeco-Roman culture, from which the Byzantines inherited their traditions (Elsner 2007). If divine beings can manifest through images, paintings, and relics, wouldn’t any epiphany be possible through any physical objects? What about sacraments in the Eucharist? These questions imply that the rationale for iconoclasm was not the excessive use of icons in worship.
When the debates between iconoclasts and iconodules during the Iconoclasm era are examined, the issue appears to be theological. Byzantine iconoclasts focus on the nature of Christ and the distinction between the divine and the material worlds (Bremmer 2008). They claimed that there was nothing in early Christian tradition indicating the use of religious paintings, which is hard to refute (Finney 1994, p. 5). On the other hand, iconodules argued that icons can represent Christ because He is the incarnate God, making Him visible in the material world (Brubaker and Carile 2012, pp. 109–10). Some scholars claim that the negative view of material things in Byzantine theology significantly contributed to the rise in the iconoclastic movement (Pallis 2014). Also, the commandment in Exodus 20:4 is explicit, and making any image or likeness of anything in heaven or on earth is prohibited.
The use of icons and images has been a subject of conflict among theologians since the early days of the Christian Church (Kitzinger 1954). This problem mainly stems from Greek philosophy’s significant role in shaping Christian theology. Philosophically, there is a duality in the universe. The material and spiritual worlds, which are distinct from each other, were created by the Creator as acknowledged in the Nicene Creed (Pallis 2014). God is invisible and ethereal, existing in the spiritual realm, but God’s incarnation as Christ made Him visible and in material form according to Christian theology (Finney 1994). The Chalcedonian creed declared that the manhood and the Godhead of Christ are so closely united that neither loses its identity (McGuckin 2008). However, such an argument suggests that the divine nature absorbs the material one, which has led to a major disagreement within Christianity (Meyendorff 1993, p. 73). The doctrine of Christ as one person in two natures, as affirmed by the Council of Chalcedon (451), caused a great deal of discussion, debate, and then schisms within the Christian world (Meyendorff 1993).
Boeck portrays Iconoclasm not only as a movement against religious images but also as a complex narrative experiment that reveals underlying social and political currents and collective memory (Boeck 2015). Brubaker and Haldon, in their influential work, depict Iconoclasm mainly as a social phenomenon within a larger context (Brubaker and Haldon 2011). No aspect of life in the Byzantine Empire remained unchanged, and the empire experienced a decline in social and cultural life in the eighth century; therefore, it is probable that the attitude towards the use of icons also changed (Sheppard 2020, p. 278). However, social deterioration in the empire does not imply that Iconoclasm was directly linked to social change during those centuries.
Brubaker and Carile propose that Iconoclasm, particularly within the Byzantine Empire, was an “invented” phenomenon (Brubaker and Carile 2012, p. 120). This view suggests that the concept of Iconoclasm was partly a reaction to political and theological conflicts, rather than an extension of long-standing Christian practices. They also note that the veneration of icons, criticized by iconoclasts, was not as deeply embedded in church tradition as commonly believed. Indeed, the events around the start of iconoclasm can only be seen through the eyes of some observers who did not even live in the iconoclastic age (Jenkins 2023, pp. 9–10). The idea of the “invention of iconoclasm in a later period” seems to oversimplify the reasons behind the scarcity of records about iconoclasm, particularly in the early period of iconoclasm.
Establishing cause-and-effect relationships between events that occurred by chance on similar dates is a common practice in Byzantine history (Jenkins 2023, p. 20). Several events that happened around the time Leo III had the icon of Christ Antiphonetes removed from the Chalke Gate in Constantinople are linked by Byzantine historians to the start of the Iconoclasm period (Theophanes et al. 1997, pp. 96–97). The eruption of a volcano in Egea, the Muslim invasion of Nicaea, and the uprising of Greeks from the Helladic theme are thought to be related to the Iconoclasm (Atkinson 1973). Another event that may be related to Byzantine Iconoclasm is the edict of Yazid II, issued in 721 or 722, banning images in sanctuaries. Brubaker and Haldon call this decision the Palestinian iconoclasm and claim that it is restricted to the representation of living creatures in a restricted region (Brubaker and Haldon 2011, p. 114). On the other hand, Vasiliev argues that the Umayyad and Byzantine iconoclasms are related and that the Umayyad edict serves as a precursor to the Byzantine case (Vasiliev 1956). However, in the literature, the two iconoclastic decisions, separated by just 5 years, are generally regarded as unrelated.
Brubaker and Haldon argue that the veneration of icons was not deeply ingrained in Byzantine society before the late seventh century (Brubaker and Haldon 2011, pp. 62–63). Moreover, Byzantines largely inherited the ancient Graeco-Roman culture, in which religious or cultic art played a secondary role in rituals (Elsner 2001). Worship is directed toward the spiritual being in the ritual, not toward the material of which it is represented, as many Christian theologians describe (Barber 2002, pp. 17–19). Also, it is worth noting that the ban on icons was specific to the Byzantine Empire, while Western Christian art continued to develop its iconography and secular art, even thriving within the Byzantine Empire during the period of iconoclasm (Rice 1968, pp. 20–21).

3. Invisibility of God and Art

One of the main subjects in iconoclastic debates was the dual nature of Christ, since this dichotomy relates to art and icon use. There are many well-written books and articles on the theology of icons that cite passages from Scripture and explain the writings of philosophers, theologians, and Church Fathers (Barnard 1975; Ouspensky 1992; McGuckin 1993; Schönborn 1994; Narinskaya 2012). Almost all of these books begin with the assumption of God’s invisibility, which is treated as a “fact” without sufficient explanation of why God is invisible. This section aims to address this gap and, from an ancient philosophical perspective, explain why God is invisible, thereby deepening the discussion of the theology of icons. As Tollefsen suggests, “nobody should write on Christian art without knowledge of the ancient world view” (Tollefsen 2018, p. 152).
In ancient times, the Creator of the entire universe was described as an invisible being made of divine material from an ethereal realm, distinct from the corporeal world (Finney 1994, pp. 277–78). Logos and Cosmos were fundamental concepts, and Greek Philosophy used the Logos concept to illustrate how God created the Cosmos (Williams 2016). Although there are various interpretations of the term “Logos”, order, harmony, rational principles, and criterion are proper explanations. Cosmos, an orderly structure, is governed by the rational principle, Logos. God cannot be seen with sensory organs; therefore, to understand Him, the order and principles in His creation, in other words, the Logos, must be investigated. God can only be seen in the things He created (Fideler 1993, pp. 37–39). These were not specific to Greek Philosophy, and the Bible also has some clues about it. God hides Himself as described in Isaiah 45:15 (McGinn 2013). John 1.1 states, “In the beginning was the Logos, and the Logos was with God, and the Logos was God”. John 4:24 states, “God is a Spirit, and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.” Early Christians held that God is an abstract divinity that cannot be conceived by the senses. Paul (2 Cor. 4:7) further emphasizes, “For we walk (live) by faith, not by sight.”
From ancient times, cosmology has been closely tied to theogony, the study of the origins of the divine (Fitzgerald 2013, pp. 7–9). As Emile Durkheim said, “There is no religion that is not a cosmology as well as a speculation on the divine” (Durkheim et al. 2008, p. 10). From an ancient astronomer’s point of view, the cycles of heavenly bodies imply that an omnipotent God created an eternal, invisible force and operates through an endless, repetitive mechanism (Thom 2014, pp. 107–19). According to Greek philosophers, the Creator started this perfect cycle before time, designed to continue forever (Blyth 2017). Periodicity was seen to be perfect, and every cycle of a celestial object was a replica of the previous and the next when observed with the naked eye. Eternity, infinity, invisibility, immortality, and perfection are some of the qualities of God derived from these observations. The predictable nature of celestial events implies that the Creator knew those events before time started and hints at the concept of fate.
The invisibility of God, however, does not imply that God cannot be perceived. Logos and Cosmos are examples of God’s creation, and observing them gives a hint about Him. While physical senses are directed toward corporeal objects, intelligible perception enables the soul to apprehend divine realities. Both ancient philosophy and early Christian thought converge on the idea that human perception can be elevated from the sensory to the intelligible level, allowing the intellect to approach divinity in a non-physical manner. Plato states, “gods invented and supplied us with vision (and other senses) to enable us to observe the rational revolutions of the heavens and to let them affect the revolutions of thought within ourselves” (Plato et al. 2008, p. 38). According to Philo, God created humans and endowed them with intelligence to observe His existence through the order that He made, Logos (Philo and Winston 1981, pp. 21–35).
Different collective interpretations of the divine and material worlds have emerged, giving rise to diverse religious and cultic traditions throughout human history (Durkheim et al. 2008, pp. 40–41). When using art for religious purposes, the main challenge was the impossibility of depicting an invisible, eternal, immortal, and perfect being in the imperfect material world. How can art be used in practice to elevate the senses and deepen the knowledge of God? Can improperly designed art pieces mislead people? These philosophical and practical challenges did not stop the Romans and other civilizations from using art for religious purposes. The Romans and Greeks employed highly realistic art to enhance understanding of their gods, emphasizing qualities such as perfection and immortality. Other civilizations used symbols and symbolic forms to represent, even when they were capable of producing realistic works. In the first three centuries, Christians used symbolic forms and often criticized the use of art.
The Christianization of the Roman Empire by Constantine the Great was a significant political move. The transition from paganism to Christianity was not immediate, but the ancient religion eventually disappeared in a relatively peaceful atmosphere (Bremmer 2021). The assimilation of various traditional beliefs and rituals accelerated the acceptance of Christianity (Kelly 2001, p. 185). The ability of Christianity to integrate diverse religious traditions made it more attractive and boosted its effectiveness as a political ideology. In other words, Constantine’s new state religion enabled a smooth transition from Apollo to Christ (Kelly 2001, p. 172). As part of the Graeco-Roman tradition, religious art began to appear in Christian churches after the fourth century (Murray 1977). However, religious art served as a supplement to rituals, not a replacement or a form of idolatry. The Gospels are written accounts of the works of Jesus, passed down from the early years of Christianity. As Tollefsen states, “The works of Christ are the particular historical events that, as such, are the foundation for universal salvation” (Tollefsen 2018, p. 152). Therefore, art gives a bodily dimension to the Christian faith for human beings to perceive the works and life of Christ through the senses. By introducing religious art, the Christian Church bridged the gap between the invisible divine and the human sensory experience (Tollefsen 2018).

4. Theology of Icons, Debates, and Iconoclasm

In ancient times, the representational capability of art forms was questioned by various philosophers. Plato emphasizes the importance of mental images of objects rather than imitating physical similarities through different art forms, calling a painting “an imitation of an imitation” (Plato and Bloom 1991, pp. 277–87). As in Egyptian Art, symbols should be preferred rather than likenesses to create mental images rather than physical ones (Halliwell 2000).
The use of religious images after the third century had a theological basis, emphasizing Christ’s human nature (Narinskaya 2012). As given in John 1:14, “The Word (Logos) became flesh and made his dwelling among us”. This verse clearly states that the invisible God became visible with Christ’s existence in the material world. The Eucharist was one of the principal proofs of his humanity, since he described his blood and flesh as wine and bread (Grumett 2016). Augustine, in his letter to Nectarius (Augustine 2001, p. 3), criticizes pagan art that imitates the immoral characters of gods that existed in literature or art. He claims that the physical world is not God, but it proves the existence of its creator, referring to Psalm 99:3 (Augustine and Chadwick 2008, pp. 184–85).
Rituals such as the Eucharist, Baptism, religious paintings, hymns, visiting holy places, pilgrimage, and touching relics are ways of experiencing the transcendent through the senses (James 2011). Plotinus, founder of Neoplatonism, claimed that sensory beauty can prevent a person from seeing spiritual realities and cannot be trusted (Plotinus and Page 1952, pp. 21–26). Gold, silver, or stone are not gods. They are just corruptible matter and do not deserve divine honor (Origen and Chadwick 1965, pp. 155–56). Furthermore, God can be apprehended via intelligence mirroring Him, not sensory means (Origen and Chadwick 1965, p. 425). Ephraem the Syrian claims that the Eucharist manifests the actual image of Christ and replaces graven images (St. Ephrem 1847, pp. 50–52). Eusebius of Caesarea, known as “the father of church history,” held iconoclastic views. In his letter to Queen Constantia, he stated that it was impossible to iconize Christ’s divine nature (Mango 1986, pp. 16–18).
The prominent theologian of the Iconoclasm Era and one of the last Church Fathers, St. John of Damascus, had a significant impact on the debates between iconophiles and iconoclasts through his writings during the first phase of the Iconoclasm era. He authored the first systematic theological defense of icons, especially in his three treatises “On the Divine Images”. John’s main accomplishment is his book, “Fount of Knowledge”, serving as one of the earliest organized presentations of the orthodox faith (Hoyland 1997, p. 484). He was a master at synthesizing earlier patristic thought by frequently referencing the works of Church Fathers (Payton 1996). His works became essential sources for later Byzantine theology, shaping its development (John and Chase 1958).
John of Damascus argues that the Incarnation of Jesus Christ fundamentally justifies the depiction of the divine in art (John and Louth 2003, p. 61). He maintains that icons serve as windows to the divine since they give form for formless things, and create familiar points of reference for the material world (John and Louth 2003, p. 26). He clarifies that it is impossible to depict the invisible God directly in icons. Similarly, if images of human beings are made and people venerate them as gods, it is idolatry. However, it is permissible to make the image of God, who became incarnate and lived among humans (John and Louth 2003, pp. 61–62).
John’s perspective is rooted in the Christological doctrines of the Chalcedonian Creed, which holds that Christ is both entirely divine and entirely human. He defends the hypostatic union with these words: “For the nature of the flesh did not become divinity, but as the Word became flesh immutably, remaining what it was, so also the flesh became the Word without losing what it was, being rather made equal to the Word hypostatically”. He further defends the permissibility of making images “I do not depict the invisible divinity, but I depict God made visible in the flesh” (John and Louth 2003, p. 86). Other aspects of his argument, such as the likening of religious images to “books for the illiterate,” also drew attention (John and Louth 2003, pp. 31, 46).
During the first period of iconoclasm, John of Damascus was the leading figure among the iconodules. In the second iconoclastic period, Theodore the Studite played a leading role in defending icons, employing sophisticated theological arguments to counter iconoclast claims. He was an influential monk within the monastic group known as the Studites. During the second phase of iconoclasm, he was imprisoned and exiled (Cholij 2009, pp. 2–3).
Theodore the Studite accepts that Christ’s Godhead is invisible. He states that when Christ became human, he assumed a real human body. This body is visible and gives him a visible shape. Therefore, an icon depicts Christ, showing his human body, while he still remains fully divine due to the hypostatic union, serving as a witness to the Incarnation (Tollefsen 2018). To address the accusation of idolatry by iconoclasts, he claims that icons belong to the category of “the relative” in Aristotelian philosophy. In other words, Theodore argues that the honor shown to the image passes to the original (Tollefsen 2018, pp. 99–100). For him, the example of saints was at the center of the foundation of monastic life, yielding role models for a proper Christian life (Cholij 2009, pp. 126–27). It is important to note that monk-theologians, such as John of Damascus and Theodore the Studite, predominate in the sources from the iconoclastic period, giving the impression that the entire debate was between the Byzantine administration and monasteries, which is not entirely correct.
According to Meyendorff, the tradition of religious imagery in Graeco-Roman society was inherited by Greek-speaking Christians in the Roman Empire (Meyendorff 1974, p. 42). In Graeco-Roman culture, religious art was considered inferior to ritual, and art served as a functional or illustrative element, but not as a fundamental part of rituals (Elsner 2007, pp. 42–45). This approach appears to closely align with John of Damascus’s opinion, which holds that Christ can be identical to an image on an icon in person but not in essence (John and Louth 2003, p. 91).
The most critical contribution of St. John was his transformation of iconoclasm into a Christological controversy (Pallis 2014). His sound theological treatises were difficult to deny for the Byzantine Administration, but he did not manage to change the iconoclastic policies of Leo III and Constantine V. Iconodules held that an invisible deity cannot be depicted in art, but they accepted that Christ’s incarnation made the making and use of icons possible. On the other hand, iconoclasts claimed that using icons was idolatry, according to the Second Commandment (Narinskaya 2012). In short, one group of theologians argues that people can use sensory information to create mental images, while the opposing side claims that sensory information is unreliable. At this point, it seems neither side of the debate can prove or disprove whether the use of icons is essential to Christianity. More importantly, after reading numerous pages on the dispute between iconodules and iconoclasts, it is tough to understand the primary purpose of their debate. However, it is obvious that theological discussions about the use of icons did not influence the emperors’ decisions and that they maintained iconoclastic policies. This fact alone suggests that the issue was not theological but mostly political.
Using paintings to educate the general public, who were largely illiterate, is one way to justify the use of icons. This idea was articulated by Pope Gregory the Great in the sixth century. He emphasized that worship should not be directed toward any created object and people can view pictures explicitly designed to help them understand religious concepts and history (Chazelle 1990). In fact, it was not a general argument for supporting the veneration of icons, although iconophiles did utilize his ideas in debates over iconoclasm. In fact, it is suggested that Gregory the Great sought to promote the veneration of saints, since the cult of saints was prevalent at the time due to the economic and political motives of the popes (Dal Santo and Gregory 2012, pp. 222, 230–31).
This work does not deny the extreme accounts of icon use in Byzantine society. Miraculous paintings and the relics of saints were believed to promote healing through contact, and churches where healing occurred were considered sacred. Historical records from the reign of Justinian I, for example, describe miraculous events involving the physicians Saints Cosmas and Damian, including the emperor himself (Downey 1960, p. 32). However, such visions and miracles were already common in the Roman Empire and were not introduced explicitly during the reign of Justinian I. Miracles were attributed to some successful emperors, including Hadrian, Vespasian, and Constantine the Great, implying divine intervention (MacMullen 1987, p. 67).
John of Damascus should not be thought of as merely a theologian. According to traditional accounts, he was born into a prosperous Mansur family in Damascus. John’s father served as an officer under Caliph Abdul-Melek, overseeing the collection of taxes from the Christian community. John allegedly inherited his father’s position and subsequently became the tax collector for the Caliphate (Meyendorff 1964, pp. 113–32). After serving in a high position at the caliph’s court, he retired to a monastery in Palestine, near Jerusalem (Jenkins 1966, pp. 84–85). It is noteworthy that John of Damascus, who defended icons against iconoclasts, was a resident of the Muslim Empire.
John of Damascus participated in debates in Constantinople through his letters and writings. It is unclear why the Umayyad Caliphate did not intervene in this issue. This suggests that the Caliph allowed him to promote his iconophile ideas because they aligned with the Umayyad administration’s policies. The Umayyad Empire was willing to support any actions that could weaken the Byzantine Empire’s internal stability (Jenkins 1966, p. 85).

5. Politics, Theology, and Iconoclasm

In the literature on iconoclasm, politics and theology are often seen as distinct yet mutually influencing concepts. Pelikan states that Iconoclasm was defeated by various forces, including Byzantine politics, revolts, monasticism, and, most of all, theology (Pelikan 1990, p. 182). However, these forces are all related to politics, seeking dominance over people, and theological decisions are often initiated by political motivations. At this point, it is crucial to emphasize that theology is closely linked to politics, and the theological developments during the Iconoclasm should be examined from a political perspective.
In his influential work on political theology, Carl Schmitt states (Schmitt 2005, p. 36), “The central concepts of modern state theory are all secularized theological concepts.” States and empires based on some form of theology are transformed into modern secular states when the concept of popular sovereignty replaces that of divine authority. Therefore, the intertwining of theology and politics significantly shapes the foundation and evolution of state authority. On the other hand, Peterson rejects Schmitt’s claim that theology is inherently political and legitimizes monarchical rule on earth by the heavenly God as the divine Monarchy (Peterson and Hollerich 2011, pp. 68–105). Peterson argues that the Nicene doctrine of the Trinity undermines a hierarchy within the divine, thereby precluding political legitimation.
The ongoing interaction between religious beliefs and government power was a key feature of the Byzantine state from the time of Constantine the Great onward, shaping its ideological foundation from the outset (Magdalino 2016). Constantine the Great treated Christianity as a political tool to unite the Roman people and sustain his reign (Kelly 2001). On the ecclesial side, Eusebius of Caesarea is recognized for his distinctive contribution to explaining and justifying the emergence of a Christian society that would transform the Roman Empire. He can be seen as a “political theologian” seeking to establish a new world civilization rooted in Christian principles, combining both Hellenism and Judaism (Cranz 1952).
Constantine the Great believed that disunity was contrary to God’s will and that ecclesiastical harmony and theological consensus were essential for Christians. However, Nicaea, like later councils, could not end the doctrinal controversies, often fueled by rivalries and alliances within the clergy and by competition for more influence in the Christian World among the churches of Alexandria, Antioch, Constantinople, and Rome (Price and Gaddis 2005, pp. 4–68). Factions within the clergy competed for the emperors’ support, given their extensive power over the Church hierarchy. For instance, emperors could easily convert an episcopate into a metropolitan see and free its bishop from his duties. Or, they could confiscate any monastery’s properties and send its monks into exile (Geanakoplos 1965). It was almost impossible for the clergy to challenge the emperor’s power if they lived within the empire’s borders. The clergy had little choice but to defend their theological views by presenting proofs and persuading other clergymen, and ultimately the emperor.
John of Damascus, on the other hand, clearly distinguished between imperial (political) and ecclesiastical (theological) authority. In his Treatise book 2:12, he defends the authority of the clergy against imperial administration: “…in the matters of this life, taxes, revenues, commercial dues, in which our concerns are entrusted to you. For the ecclesial constitution we have pastors…” (John and Louth 2003, pp. 68–69). This statement clearly defines the separation of earthly and divine authorities. The emperor manages worldly affairs, while the church handles church matters. After his criticisms of the emperor himself, it is not surprising that John got anathematized every year by Constantine V, who called him a traitor (John and Chase 1958, p. xiii).
John of Damascus challenged the Byzantine Emperor’s iconoclastic policies from abroad. He lived in Damascus, then he became a monk and moved to a Jerusalem monastery that had facilities to house pilgrims and was associated with wealthy elites (Kaplan 2020). Could he have challenged the emperors if he had lived in the Byzantine Empire? It is hard to answer this question, but it seems unlikely, given the emperor’s power.
Monasticism had been under constant attack by the imperial administration for a long time (Louth 2002). Monasteries were economically autonomous organizations that accumulated considerable wealth and property since they were often exempt from taxes (Karahan 2016). Even the Qur’an (At-Tawbah 9:34) accuses “many” monks of taking people’s wealth, hoarding gold and silver, and not spending for God’s cause. Monasteries were sanctuaries that coexisted well with local communities. The icons of Christ, Mary, and the saints created by monks attracted donations. The problem between monasteries and the imperial administration appears to concern the veneration of saints’ icons as given in his first treatise of John on the divine images: “For if you make an image of Christ, but in no wise of the saints, it is clear that you do not prohibit the image, but rather the honor due to the saints, something that no one has ever dared to do or undertake with such brazenness” (John and Louth 2003, p. 32). The wealth of monasteries has always attracted emperors’ attention, as the decentralization of the Empire’s wealth has long been a concern for the imperial administration (Jenkins 2023, pp. 138–39).
Theodore the Studite was a monastic reformer, and his works on the defense of icons are closely linked to his role. He criticizes that the founders of monasteries appoint themselves hegoumenoi to invest and increase their own property using the monastic system (Cholij 2009, p. 30). He proposes a hierarchical, sustainable monastic system with a hierarchy of officers, craftsmen (bookbinder, painter, calligrapher, hymnographer), and servicemen (Cholij 2009, pp. 31–32). Like John of Damascus, he defends the church’s autonomy. He believed in the ideal of a Christian emperor as God’s representative on earth, whose job was to protect and support the Church. However, he sometimes stood up to the emperor when he believed the harmony between the administration and the church had broken down (Cholij 2009, pp. 126–27). Obviously, Theodore’s political stance against the emperor was generally limited, since he lived within the emperor’s reach, unlike John of Damascus.
It is worth noting that the ban on icons was specific to the Byzantine Empire, while Western Christian art continued to develop its iconography. Leo III compelled the pope to accept imperial authority in 724/725. Subsequently, Leo III sent a letter to the pope, commanding the removal of all icons from religious temples (Brubaker and Haldon 2011, pp. 81–82). Leo’s order indicates that he was not open to discussion and that it was a political move intended to suppress the papal administration. Afterwards, Popes Gregory II and Gregory III strongly opposed Byzantine iconoclastic policies (Pelikan 1971, p. 155). Roman Papacy, which steadfastly upheld the legitimacy of icon veneration, emphasizing the Incarnation as the theological basis for pictorial representations of the divine (Atkinson 1973). This event is one of the indications of the political side of the Iconoclasm.

6. Were Iconoclast Emperors Influenced by Their Consultants?

Emperors Leo III and Constantine V were said to have been influenced by foreign individuals and ideas that conflicted with core Byzantine values (Brown 1973). Among them, a controversial figure in Leo III’s court, known as Beser or Bashar, seems to play a notable role before and during Iconoclasm (Griffith 1990). According to the Chronicles of Theophanes, Beser was captured by the Muslim army in Syria, converted to Islam, and eventually liberated from his captivity. Leo III found Beser, and he became a comrade of Leo III in the Iconoclasm movement (Theophanes and Turtledove 1982).
Beser, obviously, knew the Muslim religion and the Arabic language so well that Leo III consulted him about the Muslim religion and the Umayyad administration. That is probably why Theophanes called him “Saracen (Arab) minded” (Theophanes and Turtledove 1982, p. 105). Apparently, Beser was not the only consultant in the court since Arabic sources mention other members of Leo III’s administration, in similar posts to his (Griffith 1990). Various foreign names, such as Yazid, Bashir (probably Beser), are also noted in official seals (Glynas 2017). It appears that Leo III employed a group of consultants well-versed in Umayyad administration and the Muslim religion.
Interactions between Muslims and Christians regarding theological matters commenced after the demise of the Prophet Muhammad. In addition to correspondence among Muslim and Christian clerics, various instances of high-level diplomatic communication between the Umayyad and Byzantine Empires are documented. For example, Caliph Umar II authored a theological letter addressed to Leo III in an effort to persuade him to convert to Islam (Hoyland 1997, pp. 490–501). Theophanes writes that Umar II made great efforts to facilitate the conversion of Christians in the Umayyad Empire to Islam in the same year he sent the letter (Theophanes and Turtledove 1982, p. 91). Umar II sent letters not only to the Byzantines but also to other regions, including the kings of Sindh, the Berbers of North Africa, and others, inviting them to Islam.
In his letter to Leo III, Umar II asks, “Why is it that you have not been willing to accept what Jesus Himself has said as to His person, but have preferred to make researches into the books of the Prophets and the Psalms, in order to find there testimonies to prove the incarnation of Jesus?” He explicitly addresses prophecies in the Psalms and in Isaiah that foretell the significant events in the life of Christ. Then he accuses Christians of falsifying the Jewish scriptures and claims that the Trinity means three gods (Jeffery 1944).
Leo III sent a thorough reply, addressing Umar’s accusations about the Trinity, defending the Orthodox view of God’s nature, particularly Christ’s, and citing the Old Testament (Jeffery 1944). This letter is the first Byzantine text to refute Islam and reveals extensive knowledge of Islamic doctrine. His arguments were based on sound exegesis of the Qur’an and the Bible, as well as rumors (Meyendorff 1964). He claimed that the Qur’an was composed by Abu Turab and Solman the Persian, thereby attacking the Islamic principle that God sent the Qur’an down from the heavens (Meyendorff 1964).
Another example is the theological dialogue between Abbasid Caliph al-Mahdi and Timothy the Great, Catholicos of the Nestorian Church of the East, on Christ and the Prophet Muhammad. Some of the main subjects of the dialogue were Christ’s incarnation, His crucifixion, and the Trinity (Hoyland 1997). The Qur’an frequently mentions Christ as the Son of Mary to emphasize His physical nature and deny His divinity. As a result, discussions between Christian and Muslim theologians primarily focused on Christ’s humanity and His relationship with the Trinity (Block 2014, pp. 46, 63).
Writing imperial-level correspondence obviously required an elaborate treatise of both Christian and Muslim theology. Although Leo III is known to speak Arabic fluently (Jeffery 1944), letters must have been written and reviewed by a large group of consultants, experts in Christian, Jewish, and Muslim theology, as well as in Greek and Arabic. Griffith, citing a ninth-century text, concludes that Beser was a Muslim dialectician, master of kalām from the Mu’tazila theological tradition (Griffith 1990). Nevertheless, it is hard to verify such a claim, since the cited text and the beginning of the Iconoclasm are separated by almost a century.
Various seals used in the Byzantine Administration from the beginning of the iconoclastic era show quotations from Psalms 139 and 42 (Glynas 2017). This phenomenon may be linked to the iconoclast emperors’ interest in the Old Testament, as they are known to have used it in their propaganda. Leo III and Constantine V used the Second Commandment as a scriptural proof of iconoclasm (Jenkins 2023, pp. 95–96). Emperor Constantine V, in particular, emphasized the link between the ancient Israelite community and Byzantium’s modern Christian community (Glynas 2017). Such references to the Old Testament are attributed to forming a basis for iconoclastic policies, and they should not be interpreted as a rejection of the New Testament. However, correspondence between the Byzantines and the Umayyads suggests a competition over the Old Testament’s heritage.

7. Competition on Jewish Heritage and Clandestinity

The Middle East had historically been a battleground between Mediterranean and Persian powers for around a thousand years. Both empires fiercely competed for influence in the Middle East. Byzantine emperors were keen on promoting religious uniformity across their territories through a hierarchically organized clergy, thereby preventing a dichotomy between the secular and religious spheres (Geanakoplos 1965). As religion and politics became more intertwined in the Byzantine Empire, warfare increasingly took on a religious character. Religious differences are often treated as political dissent, leading to persecution (Hoyland 1997).
The Sasanians’ approach to religious diversity, on the other hand, was to allow religious communities to govern themselves (Hoyland 1997). At times, various religious movements migrated to Persian soil, seeking refuge. Nestorians, after being condemned at the Council of Ephesus (431), fled to Sasanian lands, and their patriarchate was established in the Sasanian capital (Donner 2010, pp. 20–21). When the Muslims took over the Sasanian Empire, a policy of self-governance for religious groups was formalized. Religious communities that inherited the Judeo-Christian tradition were called “people of the Book” (ahl al-kitab) and were allowed to govern their own affairs according to laws derived from their own scriptures (Fowden 2001). All Christian sects, Samaritans, Jews, Manichaeans, and many others coexisted in the Muslim Empire (Louth 2002, pp. 11–12).
The relationship between Christianity and Islam during the first half of the seventh century is characterized by a complex interplay of theological, cultural, and political interactions, revealing both cooperation and conflict. The new faith was strictly monotheistic, and in its earliest stages, early Islam and Christianity were perceived as much more similar than they are today. Biblical figures such as Jesus and Mary were recognized by the Muslim scripture, although interpretations diverge from traditional Christian beliefs (Neuwirth and Wilder 2019, pp. 290–92). The Qur’an denies that Christ was crucified, claiming instead that he was raised to God (Surah Al Nisa 4:157–158), thus reshaping the narrative surrounding one of the most significant events in Christian theology. This Surah aligns with the view that Christ did not suffer on the cross but only appeared to do so. Docetism, one of the earliest Christian heresies, defended this idea (Lawson 2009, pp. 1–4).
At least 110 verses of specific relevance are known to exist referencing Christian-Muslim relations in the Qur’an (Bennett 2008, p. 15). The Muslim faith holds that God revealed Himself through the earlier Abrahamic faiths, but the final revelation has come with the Prophet. Al Imran 3:3 states, “He has revealed to you, O Prophet, the book in truth, confirming what came before it, as He revealed the Torah and the Gospel”. Abraham (Al Imran 3:67) is described as a common ancestor with no Christian or Jewish identity: “Abraham was neither a Jew nor a Christian; he submitted in all uprightness and was not a polytheist.” In Al Imran 3:84, Christ is mentioned among other prophets, such as Abraham, Ishmael, Isaac, Jacob, and Moses. It is likely that a religion that honored Jesus but rejected his divinity and the Holy Trinity would have appeared to Christians as another heretical movement. Islam was called a Christian heresy by John of Damascus (John and Chase 1958, pp. 153–60). Labeling Islam as a false Christian teaching remained influential throughout much of the first millennium and continued into the thirteenth century.
It should be noted that the prophecy of the Prophet Muhammad was claimed to be based on Jewish and Christian scriptures. In Surah 5:19, the Qur’an states to the “ahl al-kitab” that Muhammad is a messenger of the Judeo-Christian tradition (Block 2014, p. 38). It was suggested that in the section of Isaiah 21:13–16, which can be summarized as “Prophecy in Arabia,” the Prophet Muhammad’s prophethood was heralded. However, it is widely accepted that this section of Isaiah was written during the Jewish Exile (Sawyer 2017, pp. 23, 29–30).
The Qur’an’s view of the Byzantine Empire is remarkable. The opening verses of one of the earliest surahs, Al Rum (30:1–6), clearly prophesy the Byzantines’ forthcoming victory over the Sasanians and present a positive view of the Byzantine Empire. These verses were most likely revealed in 614 or 615 during the Meccan period of the Prophet Muhammad’s mission, following the Sasanians’ capture of Jerusalem. Here and elsewhere in the Qur’an, there is no indication that Byzantium is considered a special enemy of the early Muslim community in the Meccan period (Block 2014). However, after the demise of the Prophet in 632, Arab armies attacked both the Byzantine and the Sasanian Empires. Muslim forces overran the Sasanian Empire in the mid-seventh century, and they turned their attention to the Byzantine Empire, launching expeditions. Moreover, Constantinople was besieged between 717 and 718 (Bonner 2017, p. xvi).
Political maneuvers by the Byzantine administration before and during the Iconoclasm suggest a competition over Abrahamic and Jewish heritage between the Umayyads and the Byzantines. As Eshel has argued, Islam posed a “combined religio-political challenge” to the Byzantines, and the Byzantine administration adopted the “Elect Nation” concept against Muslim claims about the Jewish heritage (Eshel 2018, p. 188). Such ideological rivalry, obviously, required an elaborate understanding of the opponent’s theological and political foundations, supported by a team of experts and consultants. The operations were carried out discreetly, leaving no trace or written record. This study suggests that one possible reason for the scarcity of direct evidence on the causes of iconoclasm is the role of covert operations, which play a key role in shaping international politics behind the scenes while leaving no written record. This is true not only today but also in ancient times. It is known that the Romans and the Persians engaged in covert operations without risking their reputation by open war (Sheldon 1997).
Heraclius is the Byzantine emperor most often referenced in Islamic sources (El-Cheikh 1999). According to Muslim tradition, Prophet Muhammad sent a letter to the Byzantine Emperor Heraclius around 628, inviting him to embrace Islam. Islamic sources describe Heraclius as receiving the letter respectfully and showing interest, although there is no information in Western resources. It is known that the Byzantines wanted to maintain a presence in Arabia to prevent the Persians from gaining too much influence, for political reasons (Donner 2010, pp. 31–32). The absence of Byzantine and Western references to Heraclius’ letter can be attributed to the secrecy surrounding the emperor’s intention against the Persians.
Another hint of covert operations is the legend of the Byzantine Empire’s slander campaign against John of Damascus. Before joining the monastery, John wrote treatises against the iconoclastic policies of Leo III. The emperor could not directly punish John because he lived in Damascus under Umayyad control. According to legend, agents of Leo III forged a letter in John’s handwriting, in which he writes that Damascus is poorly defended and that he could hand it over to the emperor. Leo III then had this letter captured by the Caliph, who, understandably, was angered by his trusted servant’s betrayal. Then he orders John’s right hand to be amputated as punishment (Louth 2002, p. 17). Legend also continues that his hand was healed after praying before the icon of the mother of God (Louth 2002, p. 17). It is hard to assess the credibility of the sources; however, such accounts hint at the covert moves of the Byzantines and the Umayyads against one another.

8. Conclusions

It is difficult to understand why Byzantine Iconoclasm occurred, because the events leading up to it have long been challenging to interpret due to the scattered nature of the historical evidence. Imperial administration routinely minimized documentation of politically sensitive negotiations, letters, and covert operations, resulting in a notable scarcity of sources, especially for the early phase of the Iconoclasm. The documentary “Silence” has been explained in the existing literature in various ways, but it is often claimed that later iconophile writers deliberately altered historical records. At the same time, most of the surviving material consists of numerous sophisticated Christological writings, which has given the impression that the reason for iconoclasm was primarily theological. This work, however, argues that the scarcity of evidence on the causes of iconoclastic policies can be explained by Byzantine covert operations directed against the Umayyad state. In other words, the principal causes of iconoclasm were political rather than theological.
The iconoclastic debates show that the primary issue regarding the use of religious art stems from philosophical issues like God’s invisibility, how humans perceive corporeal and spiritual worlds, and the Incarnation of Christ. Ancient Philosophy and early Christian theology state that the spiritual world lies beyond human senses but can be comprehended through Logos. The incarnation of Christ makes the invisible God visible, establishing the foundation of the theology of art. Iconophile theologians, particularly John of Damascus and Theodore the Studite, stated that icons do not represent the divine essence. But the historical reality of the Incarnation can enhance human perception, fostering comprehensible understanding. In the end, theological debates between iconoclasts and iconodules did not manage to alter the course of the Iconoclasm.
The Byzantine Empire, for the first time, faced a rival that challenged its claim to be the “universal monotheistic empire,” leading to the conversion of millions of former Christians to Islam in the 7th and 8th centuries (Eshel 2018). Obviously, such a rivalry required caution, given the presence of millions of Christians under the Umayyad Empire. This study argues that the Byzantine administration pursued a secret political agenda to avoid losing the psychological and theological ground in the Middle East, and that iconoclasm was one of the tools used to confront this rivalry.
Both Umayyad and Byzantine empires enforced iconoclastic policies, and iconoclasm served as a means of winning the ongoing competition and of asserting adherence to Jewish Mosaic Law. The theological arguments of the correspondence between the Umayyad and Byzantine emperors indicate that both sides attached great importance to their rivalry, as evidenced by the theological content of the exchanged letters and the employment of consultants in the Byzantine court.
Byzantine emperors, Leo III and Constantine V, were the principal beneficiaries of iconoclastic policies. Although the existing literature provides no clear evidence regarding the effect of iconoclasm on the longevity of iconoclastic emperors, it does suggest that it contributed to their lasting power. From 695 until Leo III’s reign, the Byzantine Empire endured turmoil, experienced multiple rulers, and reached the verge of collapse. After repelling the threat posed by the Arab siege of Constantinople between 717 and 718, Leo III ruled the empire for about 24 years, which is a considerable period for the Byzantine Empire. Similarly, his son, Constantine V, reigned for 34 years. These facts imply that iconoclasm was not a theological controversy but a political strategy employed by Byzantine emperors to prolong their reigns.
Since the early days of the Byzantine Empire, the emperor was regarded as the “equal to the apostles” and dominated over the Church and the patriarch (Karahan 2016). Emperors chose patriarchs and removed them from their posts anytime they desired (Jenkins 2023, pp. 42–43). They convened ecumenical councils on their own authority and could manipulate them (Geanakoplos 1965). Therefore, if internal political considerations drove iconoclasm, no opponent could challenge the Byzantine emperors’ authority. Iconoclasm provided emperors with a basis for asserting authority over the church and monasteries. Also, they intended to control Christian communities in regions under the Umayyad Empire by iconoclastic policies. It is remarkable that the strongest opponent to the iconoclastic policies was John of Damascus, who lived in the Umayyad Empire.
Iconoclastic policy was a valuable tool for emperors to restore the treasury, which had been deteriorating since the Byzantine Empire lost some of its wealthiest regions, such as Syria and Egypt, to the Umayyad Empire. During the Second Iconoclasm period (814–842), the emperor’s usual adversaries were again monasteries. In 814, Leo V had the icon on the Chalke gate removed and requested that the clergy remove all images. When the iconodule Patriarch rejected his order, the emperor seized the properties of the Studios monastery (Jenkins 2023, p. 166). This was a symbolic act to control monastic wealth, which benefited most from icons.
There is a wealth of information about the second iconoclasm era. However, it is not the same for the first iconoclastic period (Alexander 1953). As discussed above, Brubaker and Carile explain this situation as “the invention of Iconoclasm,” claiming that the information was later altered and reduced. However, this does not explain why the second iconoclastic age had more evidence than the first. The second iconoclasm was mainly internal, and the foreign influence was unclear. Secrecy in international relations between the Umayyads and the Byzantines is responsible for the lack of information for the first iconoclastic age.
The Byzantine emperor’s motivation for banning icons also had something to do with the oppression of monastic communities. Various monasteries in Palestine, Egypt, and areas under the Muslim Empire enjoyed the status of “ahl al-kitab” and continued their religious practices without the oppression of the Byzantine administration. For monasteries, icons meant economic freedom and were essential to their sustainability. This is why the primary opposition to iconoclastic imperial policies was led by John of Damascus, who lived in the Umayyad Empire. This is also the reason why Theodore the Studite, a monk from the Studios monastery, assumed a major role in opposing the iconoclasts during the second Iconoclastic era.

Funding

This research received no external funding.

Institutional Review Board Statement

Not applicable.

Informed Consent Statement

Not applicable.

Data Availability Statement

Data sharing is not applicable to this article as no new data were created or analyzed in this study.

Conflicts of Interest

The author declares no conflict of interest.

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Senel, Z. Secrecy, Politics, Monasteries, and Byzantine Iconoclasm. Religions 2026, 17, 176. https://doi.org/10.3390/rel17020176

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Senel Z. Secrecy, Politics, Monasteries, and Byzantine Iconoclasm. Religions. 2026; 17(2):176. https://doi.org/10.3390/rel17020176

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