We perused Gay L. Byron's Symbolic Blackness and Ethnic Difference in Early Christian Literature. The book was too short to properly address some of the deeper questions of race and 'blackness' in early Christian discourse. However, Byron's strength lies in challenging some of the previous assertions about notable cases of 'blacks' in patristic writings, exegesis, Biblical passions and commentary, and monastic writings based on the desert fathers of Egypt. Any discussion of early Christianity and "blackness" raises a number of interesting questions about the history of the religion, its relation to the Roman Empire, Antiquity, and, hopefully, the actual "black" Christians in northeast Africa (Nubia, Aksum) or beyond. The implications of this will reverberate in more recent centuries of evangelization and conversion in Africa
First, one must ascertain whether one agrees with the collective 'black' group of Egypt and Ethiopia for analyzing the discourse on race, color, and ethnic difference in ethno-political rhetoric of early Christianity. Some, for instance, might take issue with Byron's inclusion of Egyptians as 'black.' One can see see why one would, particularly given a later chapter's focus on how monastic communities in Roman Egypt distanced themselves from "Ethiopians" (Ethiopians in this context refers to dark-skinned people from Africa, not necessarily modern Ethiopia). However, if one remembers that blackness can be broad and reads the Greco-Roman and Christian sources, one could find numerous examples of pre-Christian Greco-Roman literature and Christian writings that refer to Egyptians as "blacks" or associate them (alongside Ethiopians) with ethno-political rhetoric that clearly lumps them as a collective 'black group.' In that sense, I concur with Byron including Egypt as part of this trend in Greco-Roman literature around the Mediterranean, because we have examples from Herodotus, Aristotle, a plethora of Greco-Roman writers, Greek Alexandrians, and Christian references that clearly distinguish Egyptians from a presumably 'white' or intermediary color non-Egyptian peoples of the circum-Mediterranean used to refer to themselves (if Suetonius can compare Egyptians and Ethiopians to demons and emblems of darkness, clearly both groups were perceived as 'black' to some degree).
Upon establishing the veracity of Byron's categorizations, one can assess the remainder of her claims. She is certainly well-read in the necessary secondary sources on Greco-Roman and Christian views of blackness in Late Antiquity (she's clearly read Thompson, Brakke, Snowden, and a myriad of other classicists and specialists). Undoubtedly, negative views of blackness in the Greco-Roman world proliferated throughout the Mediterranean and shaped how Christian and Jewish communities perceived dark-skinned people, too. Indeed, as Thompson and others have established, Greco-Roman views of "blacks" (be they Egyptian, Ethiopian, or black, melas) as representatives of the extreme ends of the earth, blackness equated with immorality, lust, and evil, or ugliness and the use of color symbolism to associate blackness with moral inferiority, criminality, unpleasant odors, and other stereotypes influenced patristic literature and Christian thought. Indeed, as Byron intriguingly demonstrates, native Egyptians in Roman Egypt were marginalized, excluded from Roman citizenship, and elite Jews, Romans, and Greeks living in Alexandria all adopted a condescending and superior attitude to Egyptians. Furthermore, Egyptians were equated with geographical extremity, mythic idealization, described as dark-skinned or black, and equated with evil, heresy, and sin by Jewish and early Christian communities. These numerous parallels with pejorative and negative views of Ethiopians by Greco-Roman figures from Juvenal to the Church Fathers with views of Egyptians certainly helps make the case for viewing them as a whole rather than separate groups in relation to lighter-skinned Greeks, Romans, and Near Eastern populations.
Let's look at Byron's take on some examples of Christian adoption and adaptation of broader Roman views of blackness and how that shaped Christianity. For instance, the use of blackness, Ethiopians, and Egyptians as polemical devices in the work of Tertullian, who used the notion of Egypt and Ethiopia as sinful lands to discourage Christians from attending spectacles (or other events popular among pagans in the Roman Empire). Writers such as Jerome refer to Ethiopians as 'blackened' by their sins while Origen looks at the black bride in Song of Songs as a metaphor for the Gentile Church, which, becomes beautiful and white through conversion and baptism. So ethno-political rhetoric of Christian authors could reflect poorly on blacks as sinful, heretics such as the Arianist or Nestorian 'heresies,' and lustful as in the stories of Egyptian monastic communities and their fear of Ethiopian demons symbolizing lust and temptation. Or "blacks" could be used (Egyptians, Ethiopians, and blackness) to express the inclusive, universal extent of Christian salvation (such as in the works of Augustine, Origen, or even the stories of Moses the Black in Upper Egyptian monastic communities). This is not too surprising, and something observable in non-Christian Greco-Roman literature (Pliny and a few others write positively of blacks, despite the difference in what Thompson refers to as black deviance from the somatic norm of the Roman world).
Where it differs, however, is in how Christianity was, by its very nature, inevitably tied to the idea of universal salvation through the proselytizing efforts of early Christians such as Paul. Blacks could assimilate in the Roman world (such as, perhaps, the writer, Terence, of Carthage), just as in Christianity ('blacks' in Egyptian monasteries or Egyptian Christians themselves were proof of black inclusion, as were the tales of the Ethiopian eunuch from Acts 8:26). Christianity's radical equalizing message about the disappearance of status, ethnic difference, and slave or free in the eyes of God, however, was a far more egalitarian message than anything found among the pagan elite of the Roman Empire. If differences such as Gentile or Jew, Scythian or barbarian, slave or free, ultimately did not matter before Christ, Christianity offered a far more fulfilling and welcoming space for ethnic difference than it is given credit for. Of course, rhetoric is different from reality, and clearly social divisions within Christian communities based on ethnic difference, class, and status shaped the evolution of the faith (and it's numerous heresies, divisive church councils, etc.), as one would expect. But the promise of universalism and Christian redemption meant even the blackest of Ethiopians could be washed 'white' or have a 'white soul' if they accept Christianity.
Thus, despite some ugly color symbolism and discomforting ethno-political rhetoric, it is known for certain that some Christian writers did not mean literal 'black' populations when using Ethiopians, Egyptians, and blackness as metaphors for sinfulness, lust, or demons. It nevertheless can be used to suggest blackness is demonic or aesthetically inferior, but as Origen's commentary on the black bride shows, Christianity was 'black' in its early years but purified and washed white by orthodox, non-heretical practices and inclusiveness. If even the blackest Ethiopians and whitest Scythians were eligible for redemption, then all corners of the oikumene and everything in between are welcomed to Christian fraternity. Now, what we wish Byron had demonstrated in these chapters is a dedication to unveiling the etymology of blackness as a sign of moral shortcomings and evil in the Christian context. Did this just arise from Zoroastrianism and previous religions, or perhaps something embedded in ancient religious thought (an association of blackness with evil, moral darkness, and ugliness?). Of course, we know that in ancient Egypt blackness was associated with fertility and divinity, but how did the predominantly "anti-black" view of darkness spread in the Roman world?
We also believe Byron's work was weakened by a lack of attention to the question of Egyptian perceptions of their southern neighbors during the Christian era. Or a better answer as to the composition of many of the monastic communities of Egypt (where these 'desert fathers' fostered the model for Christian monasticism that would later spread to the 'West') instead of saying some were lowly Copts at the bottom of Egyptian society whereas others were Hellenized elites. The cosmopolitan, unstable, and multiethnic Upper Egypt-Nubia border deserves a more detailed description and overview to properly place Egyptian views of 'blackness' in Late Antiquity in the proper context. Byron is probably right that the violent raids and burglaries committed by invading Blemmyes and other 'black' peoples ransacking Upper Egypt in the late Roman period shaped the later recordings of stories attributed to monks of facing temptation and danger from "Ethiopian demons." What was the 'racial climate' of Roman Egypt during this period of Blemmyes' and Nubian military threat? Clearly the situation on the ground was more complex as some Nubians continued to worship the old gods like Isis at the temple at Philae, while others would adopt Christianity or even join the monks! How can one accurately describe Egyptians using ethno-political rhetoric in Christian writings against other dark-skinned people? Was this an instance of "defensive othering" on the part of Egyptians? Of course, the question of malodorous black women tempting Egyptian monks speaks more to their attraction to black women (though women were rare and all generalized as the embodiment of physical pleasure and lust by monks), but the question of gender dynamics and self-denigration of blacks to be fully incorporated (Moses the Black was taunted, insulted, and mocked for the color of his skin to test virtues of a monk, such as apathy and patience), suggests pejorative connotations of "blackness" in society. Stories of Anthony and Moses the Black were not recorded until decades or centuries after the historical figures lived, but it provides some insight onto how ethno-political discourse used the political and social realities of the day to frame "blackness" in Christian Egypt.
Overall, Byron's text is thought-provoking and a worthwhile read, but too brief. It avoids answering some larger questions. Byron had no interest in psychoanalysis of some of these patristic writers or other classical sources, but more inclusion of psychoanalysis and theories of race or ethnic difference would have added more nuance to the discussion. A fuller discussion of 'race' in the Nile Valley, specifically mention of Nubian Christianity, and Aksumite conversion to the faith would have some important implications for the theory of ethnopolitical rhetorical discourse and "blackness" in a Late Antique and "medieval" context. That is the next frontier, a fuller and more integrative look at African Christianity in Nubia, and Ethiopia, which could shed light on how those territories embraced, adapted, adopted, or rejected the symbolic "blackness" of early Christianity. Another question, how pervasive were elite Roman and Greek views of 'blackness' in Egypt then? Was there a trickle down effect of certain color symbolism and stereotypes ideologically throughout the expanding Christian world?