Pliny–Trajan Rescripts on Christians in Bithynia

Not all governance clangs. In Bithynia, a prosperous province along the Black Sea, the provincial governor, Pliny the Younger, wrote to Trajan about a puzzle: how to handle trials of people called Christians. His letter begins with bureaucratic candor—“It is my practice, my lord, to refer to you all matters concerning which I am in doubt”—and then lists practical questions: Is mere name enough? Should age matter? What if they recant? [1].

The reply from Rome is crisp. Trajan instructs him: do not seek them out; if accused and convicted under proper procedure, punish; if they deny and prove it by sacrificing to the Roman gods, pardon; and do not accept anonymous accusations (libelli) because they are unworthy of a civilized administration [1]. Eusebius, writing later, summarizes the gist: Trajan forbids Christians to be sought after [7].

The policy is procedural, not theological. It turns on evidence and public acts, not secret beliefs. In Nicomedia’s courts, the sound becomes the steady murmur of hearings, not the mob’s shout. The color is bureaucratic—ink-black letters across pale wax tablets—rather than the scarlet of soldiers. Law directs fear into channels the state can defend.

The places in play form a triangle. Nicomedia in Bithynia, where Pliny tested practice; Rome, where the emperor framed policy; and cities across Asia Minor where guilds, temples, and governors would take their cues. The decision integrated a periphery with the capital’s logic in the same way roads and bridges integrated frontiers with the army’s logistics.

The rescripts also exemplify a broader Trajanic method. The same ruler who cut a road through the Iron Gates relied on letters to cut through confusion. The reduction of complexity into clear Latin—don’t hunt, do punish upon conviction, reject anonymous slander—is the administrative counterpart to the Column’s base inscription measuring a hill’s removal [1][4].

Pliny’s exchange stands as a rare window where we can hear the empire think. No edict thunders; a measured voice answers specifics. The Christians remain suspect; the state remains cautious. But the mechanism is visible—and teachable. Other governors could copy it like they copied military drill.