This chapter explores the emperor as a temporal figure who inhabits time as a person and a symbol that gives time its shape. Different forms of temporal thinking are included here, such as describing the age of an emperor as golden and its concomitant images, using the emperor as a way to mark time, and the Roman concern with oblivion and being remembered in the future. This chapter also wrestles with the emperor as a focus of cult and devotion for the present safety and prosperity of the empire, how biography and history encounter the emperor as a figure for historical study, and how emperors can be resurrected to haunt current rulers and question their legitimacy.

This chapter examines the organisational structure of the ecumenical synods. First, a new interpretation of their organisation is proposed. Whereas earlier scholars have argued for a (con)federal structure consisting of a leading group in Rome and quasi-independent local branches in the provinces, the sources indicate that the ecumenical synods were much more uniformly organised, with a central headquarters in Rome, local headquarters in certain cities and mobile delegations travelling along the agonistic circuits. Next comes an overview of synod officials and a discussion of the finances of the two associations. The chapter then proceeds to discuss the relationship between the synods and the emperor. Whereas several other scholars believe that the synods were a tool with which the emperor kept the agonistic world under control, it appears that the synods had more agency than was earlier assumed. Finally, this chapter analyses other agonistic associations in the Roman empire and their relationship with the ecumenical synods.

Imperial behaviour, like the emperor’s name and image, was multifaceted, with different people expecting different things at different times. The variation was limited. A set of imperial roles – military, religious, and civil – was established rapidly and remained important throughout Roman history. There was variation of the balance between these different roles, but it was difficult for any emperor to wholly ignore any of them. Emperors could not present themselves as they saw fit. In that sense, Roman emperorship shows striking continuity. Still, the empire developed, and emperorship developed with it. Some of these shifts took place within traditional patterns. Christianity reformulated the emperor’s religious role, but did not redefine it. Child emperors were still expected to be military leaders. The move away from Rome as the emperors’ residence seems to have had a different kind of impact, diminishing the importance of some of the ‘Republican’ expectations with which Roman emperors had to cope. Yet for a Roman emperor to become exemplary, he had to satisfy different demands. Playing the right roles for relevant people was the best way to become the perfect emperor.

Over generations members of the Vedii family served as magistrates (panegyriarchs, agonothetes, etc.) of important local agonistic festivals, and as high priests and priestesses of the imperial cult temples of Ephesos. In these capacities they organized different aspects of festivals, paid for prizes and associated festivities, and were in the public gaze for the period of their tenure. Regarding the imperial cult, inscriptions and other evidence may point to their ownership of a ludus, or gladiatorial training school, in the Ephesos as late as the mid-third century. This chapter argues that the holding of festival magistracies was another very significant euergetic opportunity for members of city elites, like the Vedii.

This chapter deals with women’s roles in the religious life of their cities, both as cult officials and as devotees. Apart from the Vestals, Roman cities had priestesses of a few, mostly female, deities, such as Ceres, Venus, Tellus and Juno, but also Isis, Cybele and Bona Dea. Priestesses of the imperial cult are amply attested accross the Roman West (but not in Rome) serving both the living and the deified empresses. They were mostly from wealthy families of the local elite. Apart from priesthoods, a wide range of lesser religious functions were open to women of lower rank, most of them paid. For the performance of religious ceremonies, we find female musicians, dancers, basket-bearers and sacrificial attendants, as well as magistrae and ministrae, female temple-wardens and keepers of sacrificial animals. The last part of the chapter offers a sample of their dedications to male and female deities, both Roman and local, thus giving an impression of their religious allegiancies and their participation in rituals.

This paper examines the Gens Augusta altar from Carthage dedicated by P. Perelius Hedulus, which is often said to replicate an image panel from the Ara Pacis, in order to understand the mechanisms by which imperial images were reproduced across the empire. Where conventional models have focused simply on image correspondence, I trace the movement of artists, architectural materials, religious concepts, and ideological knowledge in order to map out the diverse and distributed networks by which images circulated in the Roman empire. In so doing, the paper upends our traditional models that see Rome as a source of images that are then reproduced on the imperial periphery. Rather than a straightforward example of replication, I argue that the altar had no direct relationship to a particular Roman model, contending instead that the images on this altar were designed in Carthage and reflect the interplay between local social dynamics and imperial ideology.

This chapter argues that client kings played a significant, even leading role in disseminating the images associated with the princeps and the imperium Romanum at the outskirts of the empire. Dependent rulers faced a unique challenge, as they had to pay homage to the emperor as the superior authority while maintaining and communicating their own royal prestige and local legitimacy. In the context of these intricate dynamics, client kings developed a mode of representation that reflected their authority as well as the superiority of the emperor. To this end, they adopted and adapted models from the centre of the empire for their own purposes, turning modes of imperial representation into a shared idiom of power. However, the hierarchy between emperor and dependent ruler always remained clear and was reinforced through the imperial cult. Instead of undercutting the local legitimacy of client kings, the reverence of an even higher authority, elevated beyond mortality, was used to strengthen the position of dependent rulers whose power relied on the centre’s approval.

This chapter examines the position of Sulis Minerva and her sanctuary within the wider networks of empire and how Roman imperialism was negotiated in different ways throughout the site’s history. It starts by arguing that the foundation of the sanctuary in the Flavian period should be read primarily as an imperialist act designed to proclaim ownership of an indigenous sacred site; this is supported by the iconography datable to this period, especially the pediment of the temple. While this emphasis on imperial domination faded in later periods, Aquae Sulis continued to be a place where individuals, especially soldiers, used the worship of Sulis, and in particular epigraphy linking the deity to the imperial cult, to structure their identity and relationship to the emperor specifically and broader conceptions of empire more generally. The possibility that some of the votives from the sacred spring reflect similar concerns is also explored. Comparative material from other sites in Britain and Gaul is woven into the discussion throughout, and used to argue for a broad understanding of the pervasiveness of emperor-worship and the imperial cult in provincial religion.