Who was the real Pontius Pilate, the historical Roman governor of Judea or the conflicted figure in the Gospels? While little concrete evidence survives, sources like Josephus, Philo, Roman coins, and Biblical accounts offer competing perspectives. This article explores Pilate’s controversial legacy through history, scripture, and legend, examining what we know, what we don’t, and what might lie between.

First. There is evidence he existed:

This coin he minted [1] during his governorship (with the staff of an Italian seer on one side, and a bunch of grapes on the other side).

A cornerstone with his name on it (“Pontius Pilatus, Prefect of Judea”).

Beyond that, we know only what Josephus and Philo wrote about him, aside from the Biblical account.

The discrepancies are interesting.

Pilate in the Historical Record

We know little about Pilate, other than he belonged to the “equestrian” order (his last name shows that). It’s likely he started his career as a soldier, and possible that the powerful commander of the guard of Emperor Tiberius, Sejanus, appointed him as the governor of Judea. Sejanus was later executed for treason (along with his entire family) [2]. If he was Pilate’s patron, it’s possible Pilate no longer felt a need to adhere to his agenda, and tried to distance himself, to avoid a similar fate.

He ruled for ten years over a province where most governors lasted three years or less. No one wanted to govern Judea, because it was so unstable. This means that either his offenses stated by Josephus and Philo (both biased in favor of the Jews, and written with extreme hostility) were not as extreme as they depict them to be, or the Romans did not consider them offensive.

In his defense, the coin he minted lacks Caesar’s “graven image.” It combines an inoffensive pagan symbol with an inoffensive Jewish symbol, which reflects a policy of equal rights for the citizens of Judea.

Graven Images in Jerusalem

You can read the accounts of Josephus and Philo here.

Philo was a contemporary of the events he relates in Palestine, whereas Josephus wrote about them between 75-95 CE. Philo is openly hostile toward Pilate, but Josephus has a more measured approach.

Both paint him as a tyrannical Roman governor who abused the populace.

Josephus says Pilate sent Roman sigils into Jerusalem and had them hung on the palace walls [3]. The palace sat next to the Temple, which meant the “graven images” were visible from inside the Temple courtyard. Jewish laws forbade graven images from appearing in the city. Josephus sees this as an act of hostile aggression, when the truth may be that Pilate sent a legion to Jerusalem for the winter, who were oblivious to the religious standards and just installed the sigils the way they would anywhere else.

It took six days of people gathering outside of Pilate’s palace in Caesarea for him to answer to them, time enough to find out what had happened in Jerusalem and order the sigils to be removed. Pilate went out to speak to them in person, hardly the actions of a hostile governor. But Josephus and Philo write he threatened them to disperse with violence and only withdrew the sigils when they threatened to commit mass suicide by Roman soldier.

The Jews feared disobeying the first and second commandments (no other gods, and no graven images), which meant their holy city (Jerusalem) had a law against graven images. Disobeying them might bring down God’s wrath upon them. Some of them may have even associated Rome taking over Judea as a sign of divine punishment, hence them waiting for a messiah. They would rather die than bring down divine judgment on themselves.

Josephus implies since Pilate did not want a massacre, he agreed to remove the standards, but Philo almost gleefully insists that Tiberius rebuked Pilate for his cultural insensitivity:

“…  how very angry [Emperor Tiberius] was […]he wrote a letter, reproaching and reviling [Pilate] in the most bitter manner for his act of unprecedented audacity and wickedness, and commanding him immediately to take down the shields and to convey them […] both for the honour due to the emperor, and for the preservation of the ancient customs of the city.” [4]

Aqueducts and Riots: Pilate’s Use of Temple Funds

The second incident involves Pilate raiding the temple treasury to fund an aqueduct to Jerusalem [5]. It had a limited water supply; the old aqueduct struggled to provide enough water for the people that lived in Jerusalem (and the extra hundred thousand that came for religious festivals). The Tower connected to it collapsed, crushing men beneath it (possibly the incident the crowd asked Jesus about in Luke 13:4: “Or those eighteen on whom the tower in Siloam fell and killed them: do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others who lived in Jerusalem?”).

Temple funds were earmarked as donations to God, and off-limits to Roman governors, but inaccessible to him without the high priest, Caiaphas, agreeing to it. Pilate could not have taken the funds without Caiaphas consenting, but Philo and Josephus wrote this as an act of aggression that promoted riots. This time, Pilate sent his guards in secret out into the crowd to beat them, resulting in mass deaths and injuries.

The Crucifixion & Rewriting Controversy

Josephus mentions Pilate had Jesus crucified, but it’s believed that his account was later tampered with by Christian authors. Why? The passage contains explicitly Christian statements such as “He was the Christ” and mentions His resurrection. It’s unlikely Josephus, a first-century Jewish historian, would have written these phrases, since it would mean the Romans would suspect him of treason. The historian Origen says twice that Josephus “did not believe in Jesus as the Christ.” The scholarly consensus is that Josephus did write something about Jesus, but not in the form preserved today [6]. [Source]

The Samaritan Prophet

The final recorded incident says Pilate slaughtered a group of Samaritans who armed themselves and gathered around a Samaritan Messiah at the foot of Mount Gerizim. Pilate blocked their route up the mountain with a heavily armed infantry, which killed some of them, rounded up the leaders, and executed them. The Samaritans complained about him to Vitellus, Governor of Syria, who dispatched one of his friends to displace Pilate and force him to return to Rome.

If the Samaritans armed themselves and intended to make a holy journey up the mountain, Pilate was in his right to stop them with force, because this fell into “treasonous uprising” territory. Rome would not have had a problem with this, but could have removed him because after ten years, the complaints about him from Caiaphas, King Herod, and the Samaritans were more trouble than the emperor considered it worth.

The Gospel Narrative: Pilate’s Change of Heart?

In scripture, Pilate has a more sympathetic representation, even a pro-Roman one that has caused more recent Jewish historians to suggest the narrative about him was rewritten later by Roman Christians to abdicate his responsibility in the death of the Messiah (or an insurrectionist, depending on which historian).

This Pilate is referenced having “mingled the blood of the Galileans with their sacrifices” (Luke 13:1-5),” although no one is sure of what it means. It implies he killed the Galileans on the temple grounds for unknown reasons. Galilee was where the zealots originated, so it may have been a political or treasonous incident. It might have been a symbolic reference to a brutal act of violence during a religious ceremony.

When Jesus is brought before him, Pilate finds him “innocent” and tries to convince the Sanhedrin to release him, to persuade Jesus to defend himself, to pass the buck on to King Herod, and finally has him scourged. He says he will release one prisoner to the crowd and offers the “murderer” Barabbas and Jesus, hoping the crowd will free their messiah, then reluctantly sends him to the cross, placing the blame at the feet of the Jews. It mentions his wife having had a prophetic dream and warning him to have nothing to do with Jesus (Matthew 27:19, Luke 23:1–25).

Pilate allows Jesus’ removal from the cross and for him to be buried, an unusual occurrence since those executed on a charge of high treason were not permitted a “decent burial.” His permission shows he wanted to respect the religious feelings of Jesus’ followers.

Interestingly, there’s no historical evidence Pilate offered a “prisoner release.” [7] No Jewish accounts record such a thing, and it’s ridiculous that a Roman governor would release a murderer or a traitor.

Given ancient cultures’ delight of mingling real incidents with mythology, it’s possible this is included in the Bible not as a literal event, but as a parallel to the choice of a scapegoat on the Day of Atonement, as described in Leviticus 16:6-10.

Contradictions of Evolution? The Two Faces of Pilate

In one (biased against him) account, you have a bold, violently anti-Sematic governor. In another (biased in favor of him), a man sympathetic to a Jewish messiah who argues for his innocence and wants to pardon him. So, which one can we trust?

Let us meet halfway. Philo and Josephus’ account conflicts with the scriptural account, which means the truth probably lies in-between.

Let’s assume Pilate started off on the wrong foot with the Roman standards in Jerusalem, learned how the Jews reacted to his infraction, and made another mistake by convincing Caiphas to give him the temple funds. After this caused further problems, and possibly got him a warning from Tiberius, he became a more docile presence in Judea, with a greater respect for governing an unstable region, and learned to make compromises, leading to his ten years in office.

He improved Jerusalem with his aqueducts, and compromised on minting a coin without Caesar’s “graven image” on it.

Then came Jesus, a “Messiah” whose only violent act was to create chaos in the temple. He never spoke against Rome, and did nothing the Jews thought their messiah ought to do, which would be to challenge Roman authority. Thus, when the Sanhedrin arrested him, Pilate found him innocent under Roman laws and only executed him with reluctance when it became clear leaving him alive would mark Pilate as a traitor to Rome, a situation that would get him killed.

What Dreams May Come: Claudia Procula’s Warning

Josephus never mentions Pilate’s wife, but scripture does (not by name).

Roman governors rarely took their wives with them to unstable regions; in fact, allowing their wives to accompany them was a relatively new concept.

If we assume she existed, and that the Biblical account is correct, that Pilate took her with him meant she meant a good deal to him. Pilate either loved her so much he could not bear to be separated from her or held her counsel in high regard. That her dream made him hesitate over killing Jesus suggests several things.

1. Her prophetic dreams may not have been an isolated incident.
2. Pilate trusted in dreams, omens, and seers and took them seriously.
3. He may have deeply respected his wife and taken her advice.

Early Christian literature did their best to free Pilate from the death of Jesus. The historian Tertullian (he lived in 200 AD) claimed Pilate became a Christian. Augistine (354-430) classified Pilate among the prophets in one of his sermons. One of them made up the name of Pilate’s wife, Procula. As a result, the Eastern Orthodox Church considers her a saint, but Roman Catholicism does not.

There is no historical evidence she existed.

Legends, Lore, and Later Christian Mythology

Somewhere along the way, the Church came up with several theories about what happened to Pilate. Some say fraught with guilt, he committed suicide. Others claim he became a believer and Caligula either exiled or murdered him. But these are all just stories and speculations.

Who was the real Pilate? A ruthless agent of empire? A reluctant judge caught in the gears of politics? Or simply a man doing what he could to hold a fragile province together? We will never answer these questions with certainty, but he was remarkable enough that two-thousand years later, we are still asking questions about him.

Fifteen years ago, driven by my fascination with these little-known historical figures, I wrote a novel called I, Claudia. It has always been a passion project close to my heart, which caused me to dig back into the history of the period this past year, to update my novel. I’ve become so much better of a writer, and now know more about Ancient Rome than I ever did before. So, I am writing an entirely new one! Please watch this space in the months ahead, since I hope to release it by the end of the year. 🙂

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[1] Source: L. H. Feldman, Studies in Josephus’ Rewritten Bible; Roman Provincial Coinage, Vol. I.

[2] Speculative, but supported by scholars like Helen Bond (Pontius Pilate in History and Interpretation) and Philo (Embassy to Gaius).

[3] Jewish War 2.169–174

[4] Philo Account: https://www.earlychristianwritings.com/yonge/book40.html

[5] Antiquities 18.3.2

[6] Source: John P. Meier, A Marginal Jew, and Geza Vermes.

[7] Source: Raymond E. Brown, The Death of the Messiah.