Qualifying Mediterranean connectivity: Byzantium and the Franks during the seventh century

In the last two decades, historians researching the seventh century ce have increasingly emphasized mobility, communications and connectivity across the Mediterranean world that supposedly included close contacts between the Franks and Byzantium. These studies, however, rely often on optimistic, maximum interpretations of the comparatively sparse source base, and have not always precisely distinguished between different forms of mobility and connectivity. This article argues that a closer examination of the actual cultural and political consequences of mobility and contact between Byzantium and Gaul is required, and that the possibility of discontinuity and disintegration should not be disregarded. In our reading of the sources, we deliberately adopt a sceptical, methodologically cautious minimal position: the textual sources can be interpreted as showing that, while individual, sporadic contacts across the Mediterranean continued to exist, there was no established, continuous practice of communications between Byzantium and Gaul.

The development of global history during the last twenty years has significantly influenced the concepts and research questions of historians, no matter their specialization. While global history approaches now play a central role in modern history, they have gained increasing importance in ancient and medieval history, too. 1 Already in posited 'intensive Mediterranean-wide ecclesiastical and diplomatic interaction' in the contexts of the Lateran Synod and the Council of Constantinople 680/1. Even in the late Merovingian period, he argued, the Frankish world's contacts were occasionally intensive: 'there seems to be no reason to doubt that the Merovingian kingdoms were part of a connected Mediterranean world around 700'. 15 These recent studies' interest in the connectivity and communications in the Mediterranean world have unquestionably changed our understanding of seventh-century Gaul. Nobody would deny, however, that this view of the late antique and early medieval worldwhich is also part of more general attempts, inspired by global history, to set the (post-)Roman world in its Eurasian context 16is a response to the globalization going on since the late twentieth century. However, if we take seriously the premise that historians develop their research questions and approaches from their own experiences in the present, then recent events might be expected to trigger an opposing tendency. The renewed focus on the nation state, the closure of borders and the interruption of global mobility in the context of the COVID-19 pandemic, the Russian attack on Ukraine, which has also thrown cultural difference between different European states and regions into sharp relief and disrupted communications to an unforeseeable extent: all this can inspire reflections on whether our current view of the late antique/early medieval world between Atlantic and Near East as one overarching zone of mobility und communications might not be overly optimistic. In 2020, Stefanie Gänger and Jürgen Osterhammel proposed a 'pause for thought' in global history brought on by recent developments, and predicted that 'phenomena and processes of dissolution, disintegration and fragmentation' will increasingly come into focus. In Gänger and Osterhammel's view, researchers searching for a new understanding of 'connectivity' will pay closer attention to 'tracing the initiators and specificities as well as the often asymmetrical or hierarchical nature of contacts and observing the tension-filled drifting apart of various levels at which connectivity took place'. 17 The authors of this article have already traced such a 'drifting apart' in various studies on the growing alienation between the western/Latin and eastern/Greek spheres of the (former) Roman Empire that as early as the early sixth century led to the contacts and exchange between the two becoming more difficult. 18 The aim of this article is informed by this call for differentiation and for consideration of disruption as well as connections. We do not want to criticize or deny the important findings of the recent studies of the connections and communications across the Mediterranean world. Instead, we want to use the example of the relations between Byzantium and the Franks in the seventh century to argue for a more differentiated analysis and cautious interpretation of the sources: 1. First, we see the need for greater chronological differentiation. We should expect to see phases of intensive exchange but also periods of disintegration, of a lack of mutual interest and of drifting apart. 2. Second, we should distinguish more clearly between different types of connectivity: military campaigns, exile and flight, pilgrimages, embassies, trade, travel accounts and translations of texts cannot simply be grouped together as evidence of 'connectivity'. Individual moments and points of contact are not the same as an established 'practice of communications'; interest in a region is not the same as knowledge of it, and knowledge is not just the accumulation of individual bits of information. For the purposes of this article, we therefore distinguish between knowledge about the other and ideas and representations that can be one-sided, patchy or simply wrong. 3. Third, most recent studies on the seventh century have tended to an optimistic, 'maximum' reading of the sparse primary source material, using even problematic passages as evidence for intensive communications between Byzantium and the Franks. In this article, we will deliberately demonstrate a cautious, 'minimum' reading of the sources, to throw into starker relief how far our knowledge goes, and where the realm of hypothesis begins. Sarti's hypothesis of a regular practice of peace treaties between Byzantium and the Franks renewed at thirty-year intervals, we finally turn to another key source that has been read as proof of continuing communications between the Frankish realms and the Mediterranean world in the second half of the seventh century, the so-called Chronicle of Fredegar.

Travellers in the Mediterranean world between east and west
In his magisterial volume on the Origins of the European Economy, Michael McCormick included a register of 'Mediterranean communications'. 19 He stressed that for the period before 700, this was 'merely illustrative'; further 'movements' had taken place which he had not included. 20 Nevertheless, the first 57 items on his list concern the seventh century, though not all of these are relevant to this article, as McCormick also included travellers moving exclusively within the western or the eastern Mediterranean regions. However, 33 items providing evidence for mobility between the two spheres remain. Geographically, travellers' points of origin or destinations are spread very unevenly across the western Mediterranean: Rome appears thirteen, 21 Carthage six 22 and Sicily five times. 23 Thus 24 of the 33 items refer to two very specific places and one specific region in the west, all of which were either still part of the imperium Romanum in the seventh century or, in the case of Rome, remained politically oriented towards it. 24  Only five entries on McCormick's register concern seventhcentury Gaul; 28 and it is worth noting that four of these come from later or otherwise problematic sources and deal with journeys to the Holy Land. Thus Abbot Bercharius of Montier-en-Der's pilgrimage to Jerusalem is first mentioned by Adso in his late tenth-century Vita Bercharii, 29 three hundred years after it supposedly took place. Moreover, Adso's account remains very general, is full of topoi and obviously serves the narrative function of explaining how various (unspecified) relics came to the female community at Puellemontier. 30 Thus the Vita can hardly be considered firm evidence of a journey undertaken in the seventh century.
Two items on McCormick's list come from Adomnán's account of the Gallic bishop Arculf 's journey to the Holy Land. 31 However, whether this text was based on an actual journey or instead a compilation of other accounts remains subject to debate. 32 The fourth item for Gallic travel comes from the Constructio Farfensis. 33 Again, however, this account of Thomas of Maurienne's pilgrimage to Jerusalem was written down 150 years after the event, based on 'our fathers' oral account' (ut nostrorum relatu comperimus patrum). 34 The text thus tells us much about representations of pilgrimages to the Holy Land in ninth-century Farfa, but cannot be seen as reliable evidence for communication and connectivity between east and west in the late seventh century.
In the end, only one entry in McCormick's register remains that is near-contemporary and does not raise strong concerns in terms of source criticism: the Miracula Artemii, probably written between  36 Unfortunately, the text contains no information on the reason for the journey nor its wider context. 37 The author's main interest was clearly to provide a suitable setting for the healing miracle. Nevertheless, as he would hardly have created a setting for the miracle that his audience would have rejected as implausible, we can probably assume that craftsmen did sometimes undertake sea journeys from the Bosporus to Gaul, or that this at least seemed possible to the Miracula's audience.
McCormick's register also includes a wide variety of types of mobility between the eastern and western Mediterranean regions that would have resulted in very different types of contacts and connections. No fewer than six of the thirty-three entries concern military or naval operations 38 or people fleeing from war. 39 Further items deal with the exile to Africa of a former imperial counsellor 40 and the capture and exile of Pope Martin I. 41 Military campaigns, flight or exile are very different from pilgrimages to the Holy Land, embassies to foreign rulers, or the unusual sojourn of Constans II in Sicily from 662 onwards 42 (which puzzled contemporaries as much as current historians). 43 Thus not all 'movements' across the Mediterranean listed by McCormick provide evidence of the same kind of communication, of well-established relations or a practice of exchange. We do not want to deny that war, exile and flight are forms of mobility with significant historical consequences, but they are clearly very different from pilgrimages, foreign embassies or the sea travel of craftsmen. As we have seen, careful source criticism leaves only a small number of entries in McCormick's register as reliable evidence for communication between east and west between 600 and 700. Most of these, however, relate to Italy (specifically to Rome, Ravenna, Sicily) and Africa (mainly Carthage). They hardly paint a picture of Gaul being part of an entangled Mediterranean world.

Maximus Confessor and the Lateran Synod of 649
In the discussions of connectivity between east and west in the seventh century, the stays of Maximus Confessor and his followers in North Africa and Rome play a central role. 44 While contemporaries in Constantinople likely perceived these locations as the distant periphery of the empire, Rome nevertheless remained part of the Byzantine cosmos, 45 as shown not least by Emperor Constans II's journey to Italy. That the existence of continuing contacts led to the existence of a migrant networkas discussed, most recently, by Philipp Winterhageris thus not surprising. 46 However, this network involved only a limited group of individuals, mostly from the monastic milieu of Palestine and the circles of three prominent figures: John Moschus, Sophronius of Jerusalem and Maximus Confessor. These people fled the east due to political motives (attacks by Muslim Arabs) or as a result of doctrinal disputes (monotheletism controversy), and in the Christological debate sought an alliance with the only other patriarchate, apart from Constantinople, remaining after the Arab conquests: Rome. 47 This limited network therefore turned to the west in very specific circumstancesand with the intention of re-establishing its own influence in the east.
Whether this network can be interpreted as proof of a more general continuously functioning communication between east and west is debatable. Tellingly, the acts of the Lateran Synod, in whose preparation Maximus played a key role, were initially written in Greek and only subsequently translated into Latin. 48 Also significant in this context seems the phrasing used by the patricius Epiphanius in a theological disputation/debate in August 656 with thealready banished -Maximus, that the 'whole West' (πᾶσα ἡ δύσις) was opposing the Byzantines together with eastern rebels. 49 67 While the Vita Eligii thus displays some knowledge not just of the papal letter 68 but also the Lateran Synod's acts (for Audoin knew that the latter contained a creed 69 ), it is rather sparse concerning the theological issues at stake. 70 Furthermore, already Bruno Krusch pointed out that the episode is recounted in the Vita's first bookthat is, as occurring before Eligius' elevation to the bishopric in 641. 71 In addition, whereas in his letter to Bishop Amandus the pope requested the king to send bishops to Rome, the Vita says he asked for viri catholici eruditiwhich sounds more like educated laymen. 72 Significantly, Audoin also confused Constans II with Constantine IV. 73 In an excursus in which he recounts Pope Martin's subsequent history, presenting him as a saintly martyr, Audoin inaccurately states that Martin was 'whipped in front of the people for a long time' in Rome. 74 Given its errors and inaccuracies, therefore, the Vita Eligii does not provide proof of in-depth knowledge in Gaul either of eastern doctrinal disputes or of ecclesiastical conflicts between Rome and Constantinople.
In order to paint the picture of intensive discussions of monotheletism in Francia, recent studies have therefore had recourse to other sources.
Crucially, however, none of these explicitly mentions monotheletism, the Lateran Synod of 649, or even any eastern heresy. Lateran Synod: in Esders' interpretation, Sigibert III had refused to support the pope. 79 While this is possible, the letter does not mention any of this. Instead, Sigibert emphasizes repeatedly that he had not been informed of the synod in advance, and that this was the reason for his prohibition. He explicitly states that he would allow Desiderius to participate in a synod at a later time, as long as he was informed of its agenda in advance, as he emphasized twice (si nobis antea denuntiator and ut in nostri prius deferatur cognitionem). 80 Sigibert thus does not mention any political or theological reasons for not allowing Desiderius to attend synods called by Vulfoleodus in general; he merely insists on proper procedure, which in this case had not been followed. If we take the letter at face value, therefore, it has nothing to do with the monotheletism controversy. The idea that two Frankish kings disagreed about monotheletism, furthermore, rests on the interpretation of the first canon of the synod of Chalon-sur-Saône discussed above. If one follows our minimum reading that the canon did not relate to monotheletism at all, then there was also no doctrinal conflict that could have caused Sigibert to prohibit Desiderius from obeying his archbishop's invitation. 3. In the Visio Baronti, written around 675 from an Austrasian perspective, the monk sees a few bishops burning in hellincluding Vulfoleodus of Bourges: 'Ibi et lassus Vulfoleodus episcopus, deceptione damnatus, cum turpissima veste similitudinem mendici sedebat.' 81 Whether deceptio (deception, fraud) should be read as referring to Vulfoleodus' stance in the monetheletism debate is debatable. Other interpretations are possible. 82 4. The synod of Chalon 647/53 also sent a letter of censure to Bishop Theodore of Arles, in which the bishops called on him to refrain from carrying out episcopal duties until another synod was called. 83 While Stefan Esders has interpreted the letter as a reaction to Theodore's stance on monotheletism, 84 once again, the source itself does not make this connection. The bishops' stated reason for reprimanding Theodore is that he had not followed Clovis II's summons to attend the synod to face accusations of unbecoming conduct: 'multa aduersus uos et de indecente uita et excesso canonum, quod maxime condolemus, prouulgata narrantur'. 85 Indeed, according to the letter, Theodore had already confessed himself a penitent and was undergoing public penance. 86 The letter itself thus makes no reference to theological dogma, only to Theodore's conduct (indecens vita) and violations of canon law. Once more, this text does not necessarily have to be read as relating to monotheletism. Stefan Esders has suggested that the chronicler was here condemning the emperor as a follower of monotheletism and that, in doing so, he was expressing a view held by other Frankish supporters of the Lateran Synod. According to Esders, this is once again evidence that the monotheletism controversy had been discussed in the Frankish world. 90 However, as monotheletism and the theological debates surrounding it were only distantly related to Eutychius' monophysitism of two centuries before, the same sentence can also be interpreted differently. We can also see it as proof that Fredegar either was not aware of, or had not fully understood, the exact content of the Christological debates in which the theologians in Byzantium, North Africa or Rome had engaged, or that he had simply considered it insufficiently important for an accurate portrayal.

Catherine
No doubt, these dispersed passages can be taken together to paint a picture of a Frankish world that maintained close links with the Mediterranean and was therefore also a player in the ecclesiastical upheavals shaking Byzantine-Roman relations during the monotheletism controversy in the mid-seventh century. However, this is only one possibleand optimistic, maximuminterpretation of the very sparse material. 91 The same passages can also be read differently: as evidence that Frankish elites were rather removed from the theological controversies raging in Constantinople and Rome in the 630s and 640s. Our more sceptical attitude might be supported by the fact that Fredegar, writing around 660, was possibly not even aware that it was Constans II who was responsible for the Typos in response to which the Lateran Synod had been called. While he attributed Heraclius' defeat at the hands of the Arabs to the emperor's heretical beliefs, he did not establish a similar connection between Constans II's support of monotheletism and the Arab expansion. If one assumes that the seventh-century Mediterranean world was closely connected through networks that extended to Francia and led to a broad reception of the monotheletism controversy also in the kingdoms of Sigebert and Clovis II, then ' [Fredegar's]  The author of the preface of the early ninth-century Dionysio-Hadriana, which provides a conciliar history, 101 seems to have relied on this revised version, too: his brief description of the 649 Lateran Synod closely resembles the inscriptio in the Cluny recension of Beinecke 442. Interestingly, however, the preface's author omitted the key element of the monotheletism controversy. Whereas Beinecke 442 says that the 649 synod had condemned those heretics 'who assert one nature (natura) and one will (voluntas) and one operation (operatio) of the son of God', the praefatio is missing the crucial 'one will'. 102 We know of two lost copies of the Carolingian era, from Fulda and Beauvais, but have no further information on them. 103 Thus, even if we count the copy mentioned by Audoin in his Vita Eligii, the synodal acts' Frankish transmission is sparse and concentrated largely in northern Francia, which does not suggest a broad reception and intensive discussion of their contents.

A series of thirty-year peace treaties?
Despite otherwise arguing that diplomatic contacts between the west and Francia ceased almost completely after the 630s, Laury Sarti has hypothesized the existence of a practice between the Imperium Romanum and the Frankish kings of peace treaties being renewed every thirty years throughout the seventh century. She has identified evidence for such treaties for 602/3, around 630, 662/8 and 692. 104 A minimum reading of the individual passages can once again serve to clarify the assumptions underpinning this reconstruction.
For 590 or 592, 105 Theophylact Simocatta mentions an embassy sent 'from Celtic Iberia' to Constantinople 106 with an offer from their ruler, Theoderic (probably Theuderic II), to enter into a treaty (συνθῆκαι) with the Romans and join their war against the Avars in return for tribute and gifts. This account, however, is rather confused, and above all shows a lack of knowledge of the west. 107 The hypothesis for a treaty around 602 rests on a very general reference to an embassy from Constantinople and peace negotiations, contained in a letter of Gregory the Great to Queen Brunhild. 108 For the period around 630, Fredegar mentions an embassy sent by Heraclius to King Dagobert and a peace treaty, but the latter is explicitly called a pax perpetua. 109 For 662, there is actually no reference for diplomatic contact between Byzantium and the Franks in the sources; Sarti postulates it on the basis of Fredegar's information on the east (to be discussed below) when writing his chronicle around 660. 110 The last peace treaty, around 692, Sarti deduced from early ninth-century sources, Theophanes' Chronicle 111 and the Annales Mettenses Priores. 112 Theophanes himself, however, gives a different date 113 and does not mention the Franks. Above all, both texts need to be read as part of the political debates at the time they were produced, in the early ninth century, 114 and cannot be taken as reliable evidence of a thirty-year peace around 692. In a minimum reading of the sources, therefore, what remains are news of peace treaties around 602 and 630.

A further seventh-century witness: Fredegar
The so-called Fredegar chronicle, written in the second half of the seventh century, is often seen as one of the key witnesses for the existence of intensive connections between Gaul and the Greek east at the time. 115 The text includes an excursus on Emperor Heraclius that, at first sight, does seem remarkably detailed and well informed. 116 However, already the sentence introducing this section should give us pause: 'Acta vero miraculi, quae ab Aeraclio factae sunt, non praetermittam.' 117 The author thus does not intend to provide an objective account of events in the east, but rather report on miracula, miraculous deeds of Heraclius. This goal leads the chronicler to fashion an elaborate narrative around what is in the end rather thin factual knowledge. He seems to lack basic knowledge of structural and historical aspects of the eastern empire; otherwise he would hardly have called Heraclius patricius universas Africae provincias, 118  Instead, the chronicler took individual episodes and wove them into an edifying but at the same time entertaining narrative. 123 For example, he links the Byzantine defeat at the hands of the Arabs at Yarmuk (636) and its aftermath to his sketchy knowledge of Heraclius' incestuous marriage to his niece Martina and his support for monotheletism (falsely identified as the 'Eutychian heresy', as discussed above). Fredegar also uses the famous story of Heraclius fighting in single combat against a Persian patricius pretending to be Chosroes to present the emperor as a 'new David' (novos David). According to Fredegar, this combat was to decide the war, and Heraclius managed to defeat his enemy despite the latter's deception. This story seems to have sprung from the strong impression made by Heraclius on his contemporaries when hehighly unusually for an emperor at the timetook an active part in the fighting. Theophanes, writing in the early ninth century but drawing on the contemporary account of Georgios Pisides, described Heraclius fighting in a battle against the Persians as nearly 'superhuman' (ὑπὲρ ἄνθρωπον). Fredegar's narrative links this motif with styling Heraclius as a second David, an association which Heraclius did actually encourage himself. 124 Fredegar's Chapter 81 provides a succinct summary of the Arab invasions and the defeats the empire suffered under Constans II, and does show the chronicler having basic knowledge of military events in the east. 125 However, here, too, he lacks more specific knowledge: he dates the Arab conquest of Jerusalem, which probably took place in 638, to the reign of Constans II. He is also unaware that Gregory was not only exarch of Catharge at the time of his death (Fredegar calls him patricius), 126 but had actually proclaimed himself emperor 127and somebody well informed about Maximus Confessor would have known that his support for Gregory had been one of the key charges against him. 128 Moreover, Fredegar says the 'whole of Africa' (Afreca tota) had been devastated by the Arab invaders during the 640s, 129 whereas in fact Muslim troops did not reach the western regions of Africa before the end of the century. One can try to explain these errors as part of Fredegar's deliberate narrative construction. 130 A minimal reading of the source, however, can with equal justification interpret them as evidence of the chronicler lacking both detailed knowledge about structures and sufficient interest to provide a complete and correct account of the events in the Byzantine east and the Arab invasions. In our opinion, Fredegar cannot serve as a key witness for intense communications between Francia and the Mediterranean world: while he did have information about the east and North Africa, not all of it was factually accurate, and his account above all served the construction of instructive and entertaining stories of mirabilia.

Conclusion
This discussion of individual source passages could be continued for Byzantium and Francia in the last decades of the seventh century. Stefan Esders has recently shown that the Sixth Ecumenical Council in Constantinople 680/1 led to an intensification of contacts between Byzantium and the westincluding with the Frankish world. 131 This fits with the impression gained from our more cautious, minimum interpretation of the sources, which did not suggest an established, continuous practice of communications in the seventh century. We saw no evidence of regular exchange between east Romans and Franks that would have led to a mutual understanding or detailed knowledge of each other. Instead, we see individual moments of contact -'Zeiträume intensivierten Austausches', as Stefan Esders has put it 132when texts and information were exchanged but also stereotypes about the other formulated and affirmed (e.g. Graecorum more/πᾶσα ἡ δύσις). The Lateran Synod of 649 was such a moment, though here, too, the