Colosseum in Rome. A Place That Still Echoes With the Past

Today I’m writing about what is probably one of the most iconic ancient places in Europe. As strange as it may sound, I used to play among the ruins of Leptis Magna and Sabratha when I was a child, and ever since then, visiting historical places has really stayed with me. But when I finally stepped inside – on one of my many trips to Rome – walked through the passage under the arches and looked up, I actually got goosebumps.

The Colosseum in Rome, also known as the Flavian Amphitheatre (Amphitheatrum Flavium), is one of the most recognisable monuments of the ancient world and a lasting symbol of the power of Rome and the Roman Empire. From antiquity to the present day, it has survived in surprisingly good condition for its age – standing as a reminder not only of Roman engineering skill, but also of how power could be exercised through public entertainment.

Construction of the Colosseum began around AD 72, during the reign of Emperor Vespasian, the first ruler from the Flavian dynasty. He came to power after a series of violent assassinations and uprisings during the chaotic succession crisis that followed the death of Nero, who had been deeply unpopular with much of Roman society. Nero, the last emperor of the Julio-Claudian dynasty, ruled from AD 54 to 68 and is remembered as one of the most controversial leaders in Roman history. Though he started out with promise, he soon became a symbol of tyranny, driven by his artistic ambitions and obsession with control. His most notorious project was the Domus Aurea – the Golden House – a lavish palace built in the heart of Rome on land cleared by the great fire of AD 64. Whether he actually started the fire is still debated, but the image of an emperor playing the lyre while the city burned has remained firmly in the public imagination. Nero died by suicide in AD 68, leaving behind a city in turmoil and a legacy that later emperors were eager to leave behind.

In his efforts to restore authority and bring stability back to the empire, Vespasian made a number of decisions aimed at regaining the trust of Roman citizens. One of the most symbolic was the decision to build a massive public amphitheatre on the site of a former artificial lake that had been part of Nero’s Domus Aurea. This move carried strong propaganda value. Where once there had been a private garden of imperial luxury and excess, there was now to be an open space for public entertainment. Vespasian quite literally took the land back from Nero’s hated palace and handed it over to the people of Rome.

Vespasian died before the Colosseum was completed, and it was his son Titus who saw the project through to the end. Tens of thousands of people took part in the opening celebrations, which lasted an impressive 100 days. During that time, the public enjoyed gladiator fights, displays of wild animals, and staged battle re-enactments.

The Colosseum in Rome was mainly used for gladiator fights and wild animal shows, but also for public executions. In its early years, around AD 80–90, it is thought – though not historically confirmed – that it may have also hosted mock naval battles. At that time, the arena had no underground structures, which meant it could be flooded relatively easily with water.

The Colosseum in Rome was built in an elliptical shape, measuring about 189 metres long and 156 metres wide. The outer façade rose to a height of 48 metres. Its four storeys of arcaded walls were supported by a system of arches and pillars. The structure was made using stone, brick and concrete – materials that, in Roman times, represented the height of engineering and construction technology. The outer walls were built from large blocks of travertine, held together with iron clamps and lime mortar. The interior was filled with lighter materials: brick and what we now call Roman concrete (opus caementicium) – a mix of lime, water and volcanic ash (pozzolana), which made the structure remarkably strong and resistant to moisture. Thanks to this, the Colosseum has survived earthquakes, fires and nearly two thousand years of erosion. The use of arches and vaults helped to evenly distribute the weight of the building, allowing the Romans to create something spacious and monumental without needing internal supports.

The interior of the amphitheatre consisted of the arena, the seating area, and a complex underground system known as the hypogeum.

The arena of the Colosseum was the heart of the whole structure – an elliptical, flat surface measuring about 87 by 55 metres, covered in sand (called harena, which is where the word arena comes from). The sand was used to soak up blood and make it easier for fighters to move. Underneath was the hypogeum, now exposed but once hidden beneath a wooden platform. This surface was often decorated with artificial trees, rocks, columns or ruins to create the right setting for the shows. For specific events, the look of the arena could be completely changed overnight, which shows how efficient and well-organised the technical and backstage teams must have been.

Surrounding the arena was the seating area, or cavea, which could hold between 50 and 60 thousand spectators. The seats were arranged in tiered levels, reflecting the strict social hierarchy of ancient Rome. Closest to the arena were the boxes reserved for senators and elites, who sat on marble benches with their names engraved. Behind them sat the equites, a wealthy social class just below the senators, and above them, the ordinary citizens. The top tier was set aside for women, slaves and the poor. Each section had its own entrances and corridors – called vomitoria – which allowed tens of thousands of people to enter and exit the amphitheatre within minutes. The seating was designed with impressive acoustic and visual precision, so that every spectator, no matter where they sat, could clearly see and hear what was happening in the arena.

The two-level hypogeum was added to the Colosseum during the reign of Emperor Domitian – the same one the Senate later tried to erase from memory for his tyranny. It served as the technical and logistical backstage for organising the shows. The underground area included corridors, holding cells for gladiators, enclosures for wild animals, storage rooms, workshops, and a system of lifts and ramps that allowed for fast and dramatic entrances onto the arena floor. The hypogeum stretched beneath the entire arena and included around 30 lifts, operated manually by teams of workers and slaves using a complex system of pulleys, ropes and counterweights. These lifts connected to trapdoors or cunei which could suddenly open at arena level, allowing animals or fighters to appear in a striking and theatrical way.

Above the entire amphitheatre stretched a massive sail-like canopy known as the velarium, which provided shade for the audience on sunny days. It was operated by sailors from the Roman navy, who used a complex system of ropes and rigging anchored to the outer pillars of the building.

Gladiators were among the most recognisable figures of ancient Rome, and their presence in the arena was central to the spectacular shows staged for the crowds. Although often associated with violence and blood, they were also highly trained fighters whose lives were shaped by discipline and combat. They were not ordinary soldiers or random slaves – they were people who spent months, sometimes years, in training, living under strict rules imposed by the owners of gladiator schools.

Most gladiators were slaves, either sold into combat or captured and then placed in special training centres known as ludi. There, under the guidance of experienced instructors – often former gladiators themselves – they learned fighting techniques, how to handle different weapons, and how to behave in the arena. Their goal wasn’t just to survive, but to put on a show, gain the crowd’s approval, and increase their value. But not all gladiators were slaves. Some were free men who volunteered. Their reasons varied – fame, debt, desperation, or even fascination with the life of a fighter. These volunteers signed contracts in which they gave up their citizen rights for the duration of their service, becoming the legal property of the training school’s owner.

Gladiator fights followed strict rules. Opponents were not paired at random – different fighting styles and weapons were matched to create a show full of tension and drama. For example, a lightly armed and fast fighter with a trident and net might face a heavily armoured opponent with a large shield and sword. Their clashes were almost like theatrical duels, where not just strength and technique, but also strategy and an understanding of the opponent’s weaknesses, played a key role. Gladiators were categorised by their weapons and fighting style, and each type had its own name, equipment and way of moving in combat.

Although the fights were brutal and carried a real risk of death, they didn’t always end with one of the fighters being killed. Gladiators were expensive to train and maintain, so organisers were reluctant to let them die without a clear reason. Often, the decision about a defeated fighter’s fate was made by the person in charge of the show, based on the crowd’s reaction, how the fight went, or even financial concerns. A loser who fought bravely and with honour could be spared and sent back to training. Gladiators who became popular could enjoy a level of fame – they were tattooed, painted on pottery, mentioned in inscriptions, and sometimes treated like celebrities. In some cases, they even gained their freedom after many victories, or by receiving a symbolic wooden sword called a rudis, which marked the end of their service.

Public executions were a regular part of the games held at the Colosseum in Rome, although they were often overshadowed by the more spectacular gladiator fights or animal shows. But these executions were not only about punishment. They were also seen as a form of entertainment, often staged in a theatrical way that combined death with performance. The brutality of these executions was not accidental – it was meant to show the power of the state and the strictness of Roman law towards those who broke it. At the same time, it reinforced the idea of Roman order, where punishment was quick, unavoidable, and made into a spectacle.

Those most often sentenced were common criminals, slaves, and prisoners of war – especially those not considered worthy of fighting as gladiators. One of the most brutal and humiliating forms of execution was damnatio ad bestias, or condemnation to the beasts – the victim was sent out, unarmed, into the arena where lions, tigers, leopards or bears were waiting. Sometimes, to make the scene more dramatic, the condemned were dressed up or the execution was staged to imitate mythological stories. In such cases, death became a performance – someone might be made to play Orpheus, torn apart by wild animals, or Icarus, falling from the sky, only to die for real.

Another method of execution was beheading, crucifixion, or burning alive. These forms were less theatrical, so they usually took place outside the Colosseum in Rome, but during larger celebrations they were sometimes included in the arena programme. Some games also featured mass executions -especially after wars or uprisings – as a show of power aimed at rebels or conquered peoples. On some occasions, thousands of people were killed in a single day.

From the Middle Ages onwards – and especially during the Baroque period – Christian tradition began to associate the Colosseum with the martyrdom of the early followers of Christ. Stories started to circulate about Christians being thrown to the lions right there. By the 19th century, the Colosseum had become a symbol of Christian suffering, particularly for the Catholic Church. Popes began holding Stations of the Cross there, and in 1749, Pope Benedict XIV consecrated the site by placing a cross in the centre of the arena. This Christian narrative carries religious and cultural meaning, even though it doesn’t fully align with historical evidence. Today, most historians agree that Christians may have been executed in the Colosseum in Rome, but there is no proof that it was a place specifically used for their persecution, or that mass, systematic executions of Christians happened there.

After the fall of the Western Roman Empire in 476 AD, the Colosseum gradually stopped serving its original purpose and began to fall into ruin. Parts of the structure collapsed during earthquakes -especially in 847 and 1349 – and over the centuries, stone from its walls was taken for use in other buildings across Rome. Still, despite the damage, the Colosseum was never completely abandoned. In fact, over time it was given new roles. As early as the early Middle Ages, it was used as living space, workshops, and even for religious purposes.

Small chapels and even tiny churches were built inside the Colosseum in Rome. In the 11th century, a chapel dedicated to Saint Mary of the Martyrs was built within the structure. It was linked to the memory of Christian martyrs, although as said before there is no clear historical evidence to confirm that connection. In the 15th century, more chapels appeared, often sponsored by craft guilds and religious brotherhoods. One of them was built by the Archconfraternity of the Holy Cross, which held prayers and penitential processions inside the Colosseum. In the 18th century, a cross was placed inside the arena, and a Way of the Cross was created – some of its stations still survive today as part of the site’s religious symbolism.

It wasn’t until the Renaissance that people began to recognise the historical and artistic value of the Colosseum in Rome as a relic of ancient times. Artists, scholars, and architects started to see the ruins not just as a convenient source of stone, but as a reminder of Rome’s former glory. Still, for a long time, dismantling the structure remained common practice – huge travertine blocks from the Colosseum were used in the construction of Renaissance palaces and churches, including the Palazzo Venezia and St Peter’s Basilica. Even in the 16th century, popes – though increasingly aware of its symbolic meaning – still allowed it to be used as a quarry. This attitude began to change gradually, as interest in antiquity grew and historical and archaeological studies developed. In the 18th century, Pope Benedict XIV declared the Colosseum a place of Christian martyrdom and consecrated it by placing a cross inside. From then on, the building was treated as sacred ground, which helped protect it from further destruction.

In the 19th century, with the rise of modern archaeology, the Colosseum became the focus of serious scientific study. Archaeologists, architects, and engineers began systematic measurements, excavations, and restoration work. Rubble was cleared, damaged walls were stabilised, and the underground structures were documented and analysed. This period saw the creation of the first modern records of the Colosseum as a site of cultural heritage. Even today, the Colosseum still holds many secrets. The hypogeum, the network of underground passages, had been buried and inaccessible for centuries. Thanks to modern technologies such as laser scanning and 3D photogrammetry, archaeologists are now uncovering new details about how shows were organised and how the arena functioned behind the scenes. Ongoing research is also revealing fragments of wall paintings, inscriptions, and graffiti, which help us understand the everyday life of the people who worked there. Some elements, like the elevators or water systems, still aren’t fully understood, leaving room for further discovery and interpretation.

Today, the Colosseum in Rome is one of the most visited landmarks in Italy, attracting millions of tourists each year. It’s also one of the most important UNESCO World Heritage Sites. At the same time, it remains a focus of ongoing conservation and restoration efforts, aimed at protecting it from further damage. The Colosseum still plays a role in cultural and religious life. Every Good Friday, the Pope leads the Stations of the Cross here, turning the ancient arena into a place of reflection and ceremony. For centuries, the site has also inspired artists, writers, and filmmakers. It features in classic films such as Quo Vadis?, Ben-Hur, and Gladiator, which helped shape its image as a place of epic battles and sacrifice. In literature and popular culture, it often appears as a symbol of both Roman glory and cruelty.

Colosseum in Rome. A Place That Still Echoes With the Past

Constantine the Great. The Emperor Who Changed the Course of History

Over the past few years – roughly the same period during which I’ve been writing this blog – I’ve repeatedly come across traces of Emperor Constantine, often in places far apart from one another. Sometimes it happened by chance, other times more deliberately. The first encounter was in far-off York, in northern England. I was busy taking photos and probably wasn’t paying full attention to the guide, but the statue of Constantine didn’t surprise me. After all, who hasn’t heard of this emperor? He was the one who founded Constantinople – the eastern capital of the Roman Empire, named in his honour.

Later, in the Vatican, I visited the Room of Constantine in the Raphael Rooms, richly decorated with frescoes illustrating scenes from his life. A few years on, during another visit to Rome, I took close-up photos of the Arch of Constantine – by then already aware that my next journey would soon take me to Istanbul, once known as Constantinople, and home to the famous Hagia Sophia. Even though the great basilica has seen better days, it still houses remarkable Byzantine mosaics, including one of Constantine offering his city as a religious gift.

And so, the time has come for a post about the emperor and visionary – Constantine the Great. He was one of the most significant emperors in Roman history. Under his rule, Christianity ceased to be persecuted. He was not only a brilliant military strategist but also a far-sighted leader. It was Constantine who moved the capital of the empire to Byzantium, renaming it Constantinople – today’s Istanbul. Although he was only baptised towards the end of his life, his impact on the development of Christianity was profound. He also convened the first ecumenical council – the Council of Nicaea – which played a crucial role in shaping the doctrine of the Church.

By the end of the third century, the Roman Empire was plunged into chaos: civil wars, economic crises, and external threats had seriously weakened the state. In response, Emperor Diocletian introduced a new system of rule – the tetrarchy – a model of shared power involving four emperors: two Augusti (senior emperors) and two Caesares (their junior partners and designated successors). The system was designed to ensure more effective administration of the vast empire and prevent succession conflicts. In 293 AD, Diocletian established the original tetrarchy as follows: Diocletian – Augustus of the East; Maximian – Augustus of the West; Galerius – Caesar of the East; and Constantius Chlorus – Caesar of the West. The tetrarchy functioned relatively effectively for about 10 to 12 years (293–305), but the following decade was marked by escalating succession crises and power struggles.

In 305 AD, an unprecedented event occurred in Roman history – Diocletian and his co-ruler Maximian voluntarily abdicated, stepping down from imperial power. Diocletian, weakened by illness, retired from public life and withdrew to his palace in Spalatum (modern-day Split), aiming to set a precedent: that imperial authority should not be lifelong or hereditary, but rather serve the stability of the state and operate on a principle of orderly transition. Maximian also relinquished his office, though unlike Diocletian, he struggled to let go of power and would later attempt to return to politics.

Upon their abdication, the senior emperors did not promote their own sons but instead selected trusted associates as the new Caesars – Flavius Severus (Severus II) in the West and Maximinus Daza in the East – both loyal military officers, particularly to Galerius. This deliberate sidelining of imperial sons broke with traditional expectations of dynastic succession. Among those overlooked were Constantine, son of the newly appointed Augustus Constantius Chlorus, and Maxentius, son of the retired emperor Maximian. Although the tetrarchy was based on merit rather than bloodline, this decision sparked unrest. When Constantius died in 306, his troops in Britain unilaterally declared Constantine emperor. Not long after, Maxentius seized power in Rome. Over the next several years, the empire descended into civil wars as multiple claimants fought for control. The final struggle for sole rule played out between three rivals: Constantine, who commanded support in the western provinces; Maxentius, who held power in Italy and the capital, Rome; and Licinius, who governed the eastern territories. It was between these men that the future of the Roman Empire would ultimately be decided.

Constantius Chlorus, the father of Constantine, embarked on a military campaign to Britain in 305 AD as the western Augustus, aiming to suppress Pictish raids and secure the northern frontier of the Roman Empire. This was a strategically significant operation: earlier barbarian attacks had unsettled the region, and the emperor sought to reaffirm his authority. At the time, Constantius was seriously ill. His son, Constantine, was then at the court of the eastern Augustus, Galerius – likely as a political hostage. Upon learning of his father’s condition and impending campaign, Constantine either escaped or was granted permission to join him. He travelled rapidly across Gaul to reunite with his father. Once in Britain, Constantine participated in the campaign against the Picts, though likely not on the front lines. His exact tactical role remains unclear, but sources confirm his presence alongside his father in military operations.

As Constantius’s condition deteriorated, he withdrew to Eburacum (modern-day York), where he died shortly thereafter. In response, the legions stationed there, impressed by Constantine’s leadership and involvement, proclaimed him emperor. This was a typical instance of military acclamation, with strong precedents in Roman history (e.g. Septimius Severus, Claudius). Although technically illegal – violating the tetrarchic succession system – the army viewed Constantine as the natural heir, being both a commander and the son of the deceased Augustus. Nevertheless, other claimants remained, and Constantine spent the following years consolidating power and defeating rivals.

Nearly two millennia later, to commemorate Constantine’s proclamation as emperor in York in AD 306, a bronze statue was unveiled in 1998 near York Minster. Commissioned by the York Civic Trust and created by sculptor Philip Jackson, the monument highlights the city’s Roman legacy and its role in a turning point of imperial and Christian history.

Following the death of Constantius Chlorus, his son Constantine was proclaimed emperor by the legions. However, the eastern emperor Galerius recognised him only as Caesar, not Augustus. Constantine, nonetheless, began to consolidate his power in the western provinces, successfully defending the Rhine frontier, battling Germanic tribes, and securing the loyalty of the army, while avoiding direct conflict with other tetrarchs. In 307 AD, he formed an alliance with Maximian, the former Augustus and father of Maxentius, marrying Maximian’s daughter Fausta. However, relations with Maxentius, who ruled Italy, deteriorated in the following years.

After Galerius’s death in 311, Constantine declared himself Augustus, abandoning all pretence of adhering to the tetrarchic order. In 312, he launched a military campaign against Maxentius, culminating in a decisive victory at the Battle of the Milvian Bridge near Rome. According to tradition, on the eve of battle he saw a vision of the cross in the sky with the words In hoc signo vinces (In this sign, you will conquer), marking the beginning of his alignment with Christianity.

After taking control of Rome, Constantine solidified his rule over the western Roman Empire. In 313 AD, together with Licinius, co-emperor of the East, he issued the Edict of Milan, which granted religious freedom to Christians and brought an end to their persecution. However, the alliance with Licinius soon collapsed. In 316, a first military conflict broke out between them, culminating in Constantine’s victory at the Battle of Cibalae, which extended his influence over the Balkans. Yet, the final resolution of their rivalry would come only later. In 315, to mark the tenth anniversary of Constantine’s reign, the monumental Arch of Constantine was erected in Rome. It celebrated his triumph over Maxentius and symbolically affirmed his status as one of the empire’s leading rulers.

Constantine now faced a decisive confrontation with his final rival, Licinius, who ruled the eastern part of the empire. The conflict ended in 324 AD, when Constantine secured a decisive victory in battles at Adrianople, Chalcedon, and Chrysopolis (modern-day Üsküdar in Istanbul). This triumph made him the sole ruler of the Roman Empire – for the first time in several decades.

After seizing complete control of the empire, Constantine deliberately distanced himself from Rome, which he found politically and symbolically problematic. The city remained dominated by a pagan Senate, closely tied to the traditions of the old Republic. Though Constantine never converted during his lifetime, he increasingly aligned his rule with Christianity and sought a new centre of power that reflected the ideological and strategic realities of his reign.

From 324 AD, Constantine began spending more time in Asia Minor, particularly in Nicomedia, Diocletian’s former capital and a key eastern administrative hub. It was here that he established his imperial office and began preparing for the foundation of a new capital. That same year, he selected Byzantium – a historic Greek city on the Bosphorus – as the location for his new seat of power. Strategically placed between Europe and Asia, easily fortified, and with excellent maritime access, Byzantium offered both symbolic and logistical advantages. Today, Istanbul remains one of Europe’s largest cities, with a population three times that of greater Rome.

Meanwhile, in 325 AD, Constantine convened the First Ecumenical Council of the Christian Church in nearby Nicaea (modern İznik). Although unbaptised, he presided over the council and sought to enforce religious unity across the empire.

During this period, Constantine pressed ahead with the transformation of Byzantium into a grand new capital. From 326 AD, the city underwent a major reconstruction. The imperial palace was built alongside with a new forum, temples, baths, Christian basilicas, city walls, and harbours. The city was formally inaugurated on 11 May 330 AD as Nova Roma (New Rome). Yet it was almost immediately referred to as Constantinople – City of Constantine, a name that would endure for centuries. The new capital symbolised a break with Rome’s pagan past, the emergence of a Christian empire, and the rise of a centralised imperial monarchy. Constantine relocated part of the administration there, and in time, Constantinople would fully assume the role of the eastern imperial centre – later the heart of the Byzantine Empire.

After founding his new capital, Constantine continued to strengthen his rule and pursue his vision of a reformed empire. Constantinople quickly rose to prominence as the chief imperial centre – the emperor relocated the court, officials, and part of the army there, making the city not only a symbolic seat of power, but also a functional hub for managing the increasingly important eastern provinces. As Constantine resided less frequently in Rome, Constantinople emerged as its full-fledged successor.

At the same time, Christianity, though not yet the official state religion, was becoming an integral part of imperial identity. Constantine supported the Church, funding major basilicas – including the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem and St Peter’s Basilica in Rome – and granting the clergy privileges and property. Though unbaptised for most of his life, his policies consistently favoured Christians.

After 330 AD, Constantine focused increasingly on consolidating the changes he had introduced. He completed Diocletian’s administrative reforms, restructured the army, centralised power, and began to portray imperial authority in quasi-sacred terms. The emperor came to be seen not only as a ruler, but as a “divinely appointed” leader, protector of the Church and supreme religious authority. His ideological programme rested on uniting imperial power with Christianity, while rejecting the pagan institutions of the old order.

In the final years of his life, Constantine prepared for succession. His three sons – Constantine II, Constans, and Constantius II – were granted the title of Caesar and designated to divide the empire between them. In 337 AD, while preparing for a planned campaign against the Persians, Constantine fell ill near Nicomedia, where he received baptism. It was a symbolic yet belated act – although a lifelong supporter of the Church, he only formally became a Christian on his deathbed.

He died on 22 May 337 AD, and his body was transported to Constantinople, where he was buried in the Church of the Holy Apostles – a site he had chosen as the imperial mausoleum. The church, though rebuilt several times, survived for centuries. However, during the Fourth Crusade in 1204, when crusaders captured and plundered Constantinople, it was destroyed and looted. Constantine’s sarcophagus was broken, and his remains were likely desecrated or lost.

After Constantine’s death, his three sons assumed power, dividing the empire among themselves. Soon after, a wave of purges swept through the imperial family, resulting in the murder of many of Constantine’s relatives. Although the empire would remain formally united for decades, its spiritual and political centre had permanently shifted eastwards—to the city that would bear Constantine’s name for the next thousand years.

Constantine the Great. The Emperor Who Changed the Course of History

Damnatio Memoriae. A Few Words on Emperor Domitian

Damnatio memoriae, a Latin phrase meaning condemnation of memory, was a powerful and symbolic punishment in ancient Rome. It involved the deliberate erasure of an individual from public records and collective memory, often posthumously. This form of social and political obliteration was typically reserved for disgraced emperors, politicians, or other prominent figures whose memory the Senate or succeeding rulers sought to destroy.

Rooted in the Roman belief that a person’s legacy was an essential part of their existence, the punishment went beyond mere dishonor. Names were chiseled out of inscriptions, statues were defaced or re-carved, coins were melted or altered, and all public references were systematically purged. Even speaking the condemned person’s name was forbidden. Honors and titles granted to their descendants were revoked, effectively severing any lasting ties to historical recognition.

The idea wasn’t purely political – Romans believed that remembrance was key to a soul’s immortality. To erase someone’s memory was to deny them eternal life, a kind of posthumous spiritual death.

Among those condemned to oblivion were several prominent figures in Roman history, each representing a different facet of the empire’s volatile politics. Geta, murdered by his brother Caracalla in 211 CE, was so thoroughly erased that his name and image were removed from thousands of inscriptions, even in private residences. Nero, though never formally subjected to damnatio memoriae, was unofficially discredited due to his tyrannical rule and suspected involvement in the Great Fire of Rome – yet he remained oddly popular among the common people, which preserved his name in cultural memory. Elagabalus, who reigned from 218 to 222 CE, was a teenage emperor and high priest of the eastern sun god Elagabal. His reign scandalised Rome with its religious reforms, disregard for tradition, and sexual transgressions. After his assassination, his body was mutilated and thrown into the Tiber, and his memory was officially condemned. Sejanus, the once-powerful prefect of the Praetorian Guard under Emperor Tiberius, was likewise erased from official memory after plotting to seize power. Maximian, a former co-emperor who rebelled against Constantine the Great, was also condemned following his forced suicide. Gnaeus Piso, accused of poisoning Germanicus, became another casualty of political retribution, with his legacy wiped from public record.

One of the most notable targets of damnatio memoriae was Emperor Domitian, who ruled from 81 to 96 AD. His reign began with stability and ambitionrestoring the Capitol, constructing the Arch of Titus, and launching major building projects. But over time, his rule veered into authoritarianism. Domitian insisted on being called Dominus et Deus (Master and God), and his autocratic behavior alienated many, especially the Senate.

Domitian’s growing paranoia led to systematic purges across the imperial elite. Senators and equestrians were frequently accused of maiestas (treason) – a deliberately broad and vague charge that allowed the emperor to eliminate perceived threats. These accusations were often based on rumour, denunciation, or ambiguous gestures, such as failure to celebrate imperial anniversaries with sufficient enthusiasm. Punishments included exile, execution, or forced suicide, the latter a Roman tradition allowing the accused to preserve some honour and secure their family’s property -though even this was not always respected under Domitian’s rule.

Property confiscation became not just a consequence, but a motive. By targeting wealthy and influential families, Domitian secured resources to fund military campaigns and ambitious construction projects, while simultaneously weakening the traditional aristocracy. This policy of fear extended into the cultural sphere as well – philosophers were banished, and authors censored or silenced, particularly those seen as sympathetic to Republican ideals.

The climate of suspicion and repression fostered growing resentment within the Senate, where many viewed Domitian not as a stabilising autocrat, but as a tyrant undermining Rome’s republican heritage. These tensions ultimately culminated in his assassination in 96 AD, allegedly orchestrated by court officials, including members of his inner circle and even his chamberlain. According to some sources, his wife Domitia may have been complicit, though this remains uncertain.

Following his death, the Senate condemned Domitian’s memory. His statues were defaced, his name was scratched off inscriptions, and efforts were made to erase him from history.

But how effective was damnatio memoriae, really? In practice, it was nearly impossible to erase someone entirely – especially an emperor who had left such a tangible imprint on Rome. Many condemned figures remained preserved in private art, provincial coinage, or overlooked inscriptions. Domitian is a perfect example of this paradox.

Yet, despite these efforts, Domitian’s legacy persists. Many of his architectural contributions survive: the Palatine complex, the Stadium of Domitian (today’s Piazza Navona), and the expansion of the Colosseum’s hypogeum. He also commissioned the Temple of Minerva and a new imperial palace complex on the Palatine Hill (Domus Flavia and Domus Augustana), reinforcing Rome’s image as the capital of a divine empire. Ironically, through these works, the emperor Rome tried to forget remains physically more present than many it chose to remember.

Damnatio Memoriae. A Few Words on  Emperor Domitian