Was Constantine XI a Uniate?

To begin answering that question, we must distinguish between unionists and uniates.

A unionist is a member of the Orthodox Church who wishes to submit collectively to Rome.  By “collectively” we mean either as a member of (A) their own local church, or (B) the entire Orthodox Church.  In other words, they desire union with Rome—but not if it means breaking with their local church and/or the Orthodox Church more generally.  

A uniate is a member of the Unia—what we now call the Eastern Catholic churches.  These are new hierarchies created when Orthodox bishops and/or priests separated from their local Orthodox churches to form parallel sui-juris bodies.  While the uniate churches retained many of their own liturgical customs, they acknowledged the “supreme and full primacy” of the Roman Church.  

There have been unionists within the Orthodox Church ever since the Great Schism.  However, there were no uniates at all until Rome effectively abandoned hope of corporate reunion with the Orthodox in the late 16th century.  This is why they began forming these parallel hierarchies, which were meant to draw Orthodox Christians away from their bishops and patriarchs.  The first uniate body was created in 1596 by the Union of Brest.

This is the historical or technical difference between unionists and uniates.  But there is a deeper theological and ecclesiological difference as well. Unionists view the “Great Schism” of 1054 as a local schism.  They do not believe that the Orthodox Church is a schismatic sect, which is why they do not feel compelled to break with the existing Eastern hierarchy.  Uniates, however, believe that the Orthodox are schismatics.  This is why they feel justified in breaking with the Orthodox hierarchy.

So, was Constantine XI even an Orthodox unionist, or was he simply a convert to Roman Catholicism?  This question is also difficult to answer.

The unionist movement began to flourish in the 13th century, as the Byzantine Empire’s power began to wane.  Ruling-class Byzantines hoped that, by reuniting with Rome, Western Europe’s military powerhouses may help them defend their Eastern front—and refrain from sacking Constantinople again.

Emperor John VII Palaiologos was the first true unionist emperor.  He made a personal submission to Rome in 1366; however, he did not consider that, by having done so, he had broken with his own patriarch in Constantinople.  As John Julius Norwich notes, “Apart from a dangerous weakening of his own position in Constantinople, John’s public self-abasement achieved nothing.”  Nevertheless, this nakedly political, halfhearted unionism would remain the official religious policy of the Palaiologoi for the final century of Byzantine history.

From 1431 to 1445, an abortive effort was made to reunite East and West.  This is known as the Council of Florence.  Whatever else might be said, it appears that, at this point, the Orthodox participants still regarded the “Great Schism” as a local schism—i.e., a matter that could be sorted out by signing a new dogmatic agreement.  In other words, even Greek anti-unionists did not consider the Latin Church to be completely deprived of a lawful hierarchy, sacramental grace, etc.

The unionist party was strongly supported by Emperor John VIII Palaiologos—again, for nakedly political reasons.  However, when the Orthodox faithful (led by St. Mark of Ephesus) overwhelmingly rejected the Florentine settlement, John VIII grudgingly agreed not to implement the Council.  However, the Palaiologoi remained at least theoretically committed to Florence until they lost power.

In 1449, Constantine XI was proclaimed emperor. Like most of his house, he was a unionist.  For this reason, he was denied a full coronation ceremony by the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople.  As it happens, Ec. Patr. Gregory III was also a unionist.  They did not proceed with the public coronation for fear it would cause civil war in Byzantium.  

In any event, most of Constantine’s own subjects regarded him as a traitor and refused to pray for him.  And just a few years after he took the throne, it was clear that the Ottomans would take the city.  Constantine was doomed to be the last Roman emperor.

In January of 1453, in a last-ditch effort to win military support from the West, Constantine agreed to a papal demand—one dating back to Nicholas III in 1279—that the Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom be suppressed.  Nicholas had insisted that, if the churches were to be reunited, the Orthodox must adopt the Roman Rite of the Mass.  For “unity of faith,” the pope declared, “does not permit diversity in its confessors or its confession.”

Most of Byzantium’s bishops and priests refused to celebrate the Roman Rite.  Even for the staunchest unionists, this was a bridge too far.  Only Gregory III was willing to comply.  So, for the last five months of the city’s existence, only the Latin Mass was celebrated in the Ecumenical Patriarch’s cathedral:  Hagia Sophia.

On May 29, 1453—with the Ottoman army massing on three sides of the city—a final vespers service was held in Hagia Sophia.  Virtually the entire city gathered in the Great Church:  unionists, Latins, and Orthodox Christians together.  The Emperor arrived part of the way through the service.  Constantine presented himself to every bishop, one by one, and asked for their forgiveness.  

The Emperor was the last to leave the Church that night.  Once the crowds had left and the candles had all been snuffed, he stayed to pray a while in the darkness.  Then he went home, to the Palace of Blachernae, to say goodbye to his family one last time. 

Having made his peace with God and man, Constantine XI drew his sword and assumed his post at the walls, where he gave his life in a final, hopeless effort to defend the city that he loved.

So, what was Constantine XI—Orthodox or Catholic?  Most likely, he was both.  The Byzantine emperors were the only men really allowed to have a foot in both churches:  he sincerely desired to reunite Latins and Greeks, and effectively served as an agent of each to the other.  That is to say, both the Popes and the Ecumenical Patriarchs wished to claim the Palaiologoi for themselves while also recognizing his delicate situation.

In the end, we can say this for certain:  Constantine was, like all the Palaiologoi, committed first and foremost to the defense of his Empire.  He did everything in his power to reunite the Greek and Latin churches.  He was also a man of deep faith and real spiritual depth—a trait that set him apart, not only from many emperors, but also from many bishops both in Rome and Constantinople.

Little wonder that both sides are eager to claim him.

Michael W. Davis is General Editor of the Union of Orthodox Journalists – USA.  Follow him on Substack and Twitter.

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