Latest / Nero: Mad Tyrant or Misunderstood Emperor? — Fexingo History / Nero and the Great Fire: The Christians as Scapegoats
Transcript
- Lucas: Luna, we've talked a lot about the Great Fire of Rome — the logistics, the rebuilding, the conspiracy theories. But there's one aspect we've only touched on: Nero's decision to blame the Christians. It's a moment that echoes through history. Luna: Right — the scapegoating. I've always wondered how much of that story is true, and how much was later Christian tradition embellishing it. Lucas: Exactly. The main source is Tacitus, writing about fifty years later in his Annals. He says that after the fire, rumors persisted that Nero had started it. To deflect blame, Nero 'fastened the guilt and inflicted the most exquisite tortures on a class hated for their abominations, called Christians by the populace.' Luna: So Tacitus is our key witness. But he's not exactly a fan of Nero or Christians. Lucas: No, and that's important. Tacitus describes Christianity as a 'deadly superstition' that had sprung up in Judea and spread to Rome. He's hostile, but he's also our best contemporary account. Suetonius, writing a bit later, mentions that Nero 'inflicted punishments on the Christians, a sect given to a new and mischievous superstition.' Cassius Dio, writing in the early 200s, doesn't even mention Christians in connection with the fire. Luna: So the story really comes down to Tacitus. What exactly does he say happened? Lucas: He describes a horrific spectacle: Christians were covered in animal skins and torn apart by dogs, or crucified, or set on fire to serve as torches at night. Tacitus says Nero offered his own gardens for the spectacle, and also held circus games, mingling with the crowd in charioteer's garb. He adds that despite the cruelty, the victims were pitied — they were being sacrificed not for the public good but to satisfy one man's ferocity. Luna: That's brutal. And it's the origin of the idea that Peter was crucified upside down and Paul was beheaded, right? Lucas: Yes. Early Christian tradition, like the Acts of Peter and the writings of Tertullian, places Peter's martyrdom at Nero's hands, crucified upside down on the Vatican Hill. Paul was supposedly beheaded along the Ostian Road. These traditions are late — from the late second century onward — but they become foundational for Christian identity. The Neronian persecution gave the early church its first martyrs and a powerful narrative of resistance. Luna: But how many Christians were actually killed? And were they really a distinct group at that point? Lucas: We don't have numbers. Tacitus says 'a huge multitude' — but that could be a few dozen or a few hundred. Christians at that time were a small Jewish sect, perhaps a few thousand in Rome. They were often confused with Jews, and the fire gave Nero a convenient target. The persecution seems to have been limited to Rome and didn't spread to the provinces. It was a localized, brutal crackdown, not a systematic empire-wide persecution. Luna: So it was pure political scapegoating. But why did the Christians, of all groups, come to mind for Nero? Lucas: Tacitus hints that they were already disliked — they refused to participate in the imperial cult, they were seen as secretive and antisocial. Rumors of their 'abominations' — probably misunderstandings about the Eucharist and agape feasts — made them easy targets. Also, Nero's adviser Tigellinus may have suggested them. The fire had devastated the city, and Nero needed someone to blame fast. The Christians were a small, unpopular group with no political protection. Luna: And this is where the story of Nero fiddling while Rome burns comes from, even though that's a later myth. Lucas: Exactly. The 'fiddle' is an anachronism — the cithara was a lyre, not a violin. But the idea that Nero was indifferent or even complicit persisted. Suetonius says Nero sang of the fall of Troy while watching the fire from the Tower of Maecenas. Cassius Dio says he climbed the Palatine and recited lines about the destruction of Troy. Tacitus is more cautious: he reports that Nero was at Antium when the fire started and returned quickly to organize relief. So there's a real debate. Luna: And that debate matters because it shapes how we see Nero — as a monster or a politician making a ruthless decision. Lucas: Right. If Nero started the fire, then the persecution is an extension of his criminality. If he didn't, it's a brutal but calculated move to save his reputation. Most historians today doubt Nero started the fire — it would have been incredibly risky and he was popular at the time. But the persecution was real, and it left a deep scar. Luna: And it's also the first time Christians appear in Roman historical writing. That's huge. Lucas: Absolutely. For Tacitus, writing in the 110s, Christians were already a recognizable group. He even explains that the name comes from 'Christus, who suffered the extreme penalty during the reign of Tiberius at the hands of one of our procurators, Pontius Pilatus.' That's a remarkable passage — it confirms the historical Jesus from a non-Christian source, and it's the only reference to Pilate's role outside the Gospels. Luna: So in a weird way, Nero's persecution helped write Jesus into Roman history. Lucas: Yes. And it cemented Nero as the Antichrist figure in some Christian traditions. The Sibylline Oracles and the Book of Revelation may allude to Nero as the beast whose number is 666 — because the Greek letters of 'Neron Caesar' add up to that. The idea of Nero redivivus, a returning Nero, became a fixture of apocalyptic thought. Luna: That's fascinating — and terrifying. So the persecution had long-term consequences for both Roman policy and Christian self-understanding. Lucas: Exactly. It created a template for martyrdom. Early Christian writers like Tertullian boasted that 'the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church.' The Neronian persecution gave the church its first heroes. And it established a pattern of Roman suspicion that would flare up again under Decius and Diocletian. But it's important to remember: these were sporadic, local events, not a continuous state policy. Luna: And we know all this from a few paragraphs of Tacitus. History really hangs on a thread sometimes. Lucas: It does. And speaking of threads — I want to mention something that weaves through all our episodes. This show exists because of listeners like you, and we deliberately keep it ad-free. No commercials, no sponsors. If you value that and want to support it, you can at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It's a simple way to keep this conversations going without any ads. Just a thought. Luna: Yeah, I love that we can just talk history without interruptions. It makes the show feel like a real conversation. Lucas: Exactly. So back to the fire — one more detail. Tacitus says Nero's persecution was so cruel that even the victims' deaths became a source of pity. That's a powerful line. It suggests that the Roman public, who were not sympathetic to Christians, were shocked by the brutality. It may have backfired on Nero politically. Luna: So the scapegoating didn't even work in the long run? Lucas: It probably helped in the short term — the fire was in 64, and Nero survived until 68. But his popularity was already declining. The persecution may have alienated some, but it's hard to measure. What's clear is that the story of Nero and the Christians became a central myth for both sides: for Romans, it was an example of tyranny; for Christians, it was the birth of martyrdom. Luna: And that myth has lasted two thousand years. That's the power of a good story — or a good accusation. Lucas: Exactly. And it's a reminder that history is never just about what happened — it's about who tells the story and why. The Neronian persecution is a case study in how political scapegoating can create a narrative that outlives the event itself.