Why Even Atheist Historians Believe in John the Baptist

What kind of world crucified Jesus—and why do even atheist historians agree that John the Baptist was real? This post explores the reign of Emperor Tiberius (AD 14–37) and the volatile political and religious landscape of Judea under Roman rule. It was during this time that both John the Baptist and Jesus of Nazareth were executed. And just one year later, Paul the Apostle was converted. Drawing on the writings of Josephus, Philo, and Tacitus, we’ll see how Rome responded to charismatic Jewish voices—and how their attempts to silence those voices only fueled the Christian movement.


“Now in the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar…”

That line from Luke 3:1 grounds the Gospel narrative in historical time. Tiberius ruled from AD 14 to 37. The fifteenth year corresponds to AD 28 or 29. Pontius Pilate was the governor of Judea. And John the Baptist was already preaching in the wilderness.


John the Baptist: A Voice Rome Couldn’t Ignore

Historians—including secular and even atheist scholars—agree that John the Baptist is one of the most historically verifiable figures from the New Testament. Why?

  • He’s documented in multiple independent sources: all four Gospels and the writings of Josephus, a Jewish historian with no sympathy for Christianity.
  • He presents a “criterion of embarrassment”—Jesus submits to baptism by John, which would suggest moral inferiority. The early church wouldn’t have invented that.
  • His role fits perfectly into first-century Jewish culture, when prophetic voices were seen as potential threats under Roman occupation.
  • His preaching content cited by Josephus matches what the Gospel accounts share as well.

Josephus was born in AD 37, just a few years after John’s death. He would have grown up among people who had heard John preach. Here’s Josephus’s full account:

“Now some of the Jews thought that the destruction of Herod’s army came from God, and that it was a very just punishment for what he had done against John, who was called the Baptist. For Herod had killed this good man, who had exhorted the Jews to lead righteous lives, to practice justice toward their fellows and piety toward God, and so doing join in baptism. In his view this was a necessary preliminary if baptism was to be acceptable to God. They must not employ it to gain pardon for whatever sins they committed, but as a consecration of the body, implying that the soul was already cleansed by right behavior.

When others too joined the crowds about him because they were aroused to the highest degree by his sermons, Herod became alarmed. Eloquence that had so great an effect on mankind might lead to some form of sedition, for it looked as if they would do everything he counseled. Herod decided, therefore, that it would be much better to strike first and be rid of him than to wait until a disturbance broke out and he had to act when it was too late. Because of Herod’s suspicions, John was sent in chains to the fortress of Machaerus, which we have previously mentioned, and there put to death. The Jews, to this day, hold that the destruction of his army was a punishment sent upon Herod by God, a mark of his disapproval of what he had done against John.”
—Josephus, Antiquities 18.5.2

John was not a violent revolutionary. He called people to repentance and moral renewal. But Herod Antipas feared his influence. The people were ready to “do everything he counseled.” In a Roman client state, that was enough to warrant execution.


Pilate Provokes—and Then Bows to Pressure

Pontius Pilate, appointed by Tiberius, governed Judea from AD 26 to 36. He was known for provoking Jewish unrest. Here’s how Josephus describes one early incident, when Pilate introduced Roman standards bearing Caesar’s image into Jerusalem:

“But now Pilate, the procurator of Judaea, brought into Jerusalem by night and under cover the effigies of Caesar that are called standards. The next day this caused a great uproar among the Jews. Those who were shocked by the incident went in a body to Pilate at Caesarea and for many days begged him to remove the standards from Jerusalem. When he refused, they fell to the ground and remained motionless for five days and nights. On the sixth day Pilate took his seat on the tribunal in the great stadium and summoned the multitude, as if he meant to grant their petition. Instead, he gave a signal to the soldiers to surround the Jews, and threatened to cut them down unless they stopped pressing their petition. But they threw themselves on the ground and bared their necks, shouting that they would welcome death rather than the violation of their laws. Deeply impressed by their religious fervor, Pilate ordered the standards to be removed from Jerusalem.”
—Josephus, Antiquities 18.3.1

Thousands of Jews lay on the ground, necks exposed, ready to die. Pilate backed down. But this moment revealed his tendency to provoke until things nearly exploded.

Philo also describes Pilate’s recklessness—this time involving golden shields inscribed with the emperor’s name:

“Pilate, who had been appointed prefect of Judaea, displayed the shields in Herod’s palace in the Holy City. They bore no image—only an inscription. But when the people learned what had been done, and realized that their laws had been trampled underfoot, they petitioned Pilate to remove the shields. He steadfastly refused. Then they took the matter to Tiberius, who was indignant that Pilate had dared to offend religious sentiments and ordered him by letter to remove the shields immediately and transfer them to Caesarea.”
—Philo, Embassy to Gaius, §§299–305

Pilate was politically clumsy and religiously tone-deaf. But this is the man who would oversee the crucifixion of Jesus.


Tacitus Confirms the Crucifixion

Even Tacitus, the great Roman historian, confirms the execution of Jesus—and notes that Rome failed to stop what it had begun:

“Christus, the founder of the name, had undergone the death penalty in the reign of Tiberius, by sentence of the procurator Pontius Pilatus, and the pernicious superstition was checked for a moment, only to break out once more, not merely in Judea, the home of the disease, but in the capital itself, where all things horrible or shameful in the world collect and find a vogue.”
—Tacitus, Annals 15.44

This phrase—“checked for a moment”—reveals Rome’s belief that the crucifixion had ended the Jesus movement. But instead, it spread.

Tacitus calls Christianity a “pernicious superstition”—a key Roman legal category.


Religio vs. Superstitio: Why Rome Saw Christians as Dangerous

To the Roman mind:

  • Religio referred to official, ancestral, state-sponsored worship—gods like Jupiter or Mars, or the emperor himself.
  • Superstitio meant foreign, irrational, and unauthorized religion—often seen as destabilizing.

By labeling Christianity as a superstition rather than a religio, Tacitus reveals how Rome legally and socially marginalized the movement. It wasn’t just false—it was disruptive and subversive.

“Let the very mention of the cross be far removed not only from the body of a Roman citizen, but from his thoughts, his eyes, his ears.”
—Cicero, Against Verres 2.5.168

The cross was something to be erased from polite society. But the early Christians made it the centerpiece of their message.


AD 31: The Conversion of Paul

In AD 31, just one year after Jesus was crucified, Saul of Tarsus—a Roman citizen and a Pharisee—was converted. He would become Paul the Apostle, and his letters would one day be copied across the empire.


Conclusion: “Checked for the Moment”

When Tiberius died in AD 37, John the Baptist had been silenced, Jesus had been crucified, and Paul had been converted. Rome thought it had preserved peace. But instead, it had launched a kingdom that would spread from Judea to the capital.

Tacitus said the movement was “checked for the moment.”

But that moment didn’t last.

The Sons of God: Augustus and the Christ

What did it mean to call someone “Son of God” in the Roman world—and why would anyone believe it about Jesus?

Before Christianity ever faced persecution, the Jewish people had already gained a remarkable status in the Roman Empire. They were allowed to observe the Sabbath, govern themselves according to their laws, and send offerings to the Jerusalem temple. These rights were not typical for most conquered peoples.

But Rome’s tolerance had limits. The story of how the Jewish people moved from protected status to persecution—how revolts turned into crosses—is crucial for understanding the world Jesus was born into.

And even more striking is this: before anyone called Jesus “Son of God,” those words already belonged to another man—Caesar Augustus.


Julius Caesar and Jewish Privilege

Julius Caesar’s relationship with the Jews was rooted in both politics and pragmatism. During the Roman civil war, the Jewish high priest Hyrcanus II supported Caesar against Pompey. In return, Caesar issued formal decrees protecting Jewish religious customs and governance:

“Gaius Julius Caesar… orders that [the Jews] be permitted to observe their own customs and laws and to gather together according to their ancestral customs.”
—Josephus, Antiquities 14.190–192 (Whiston)

“Gaius Caesar… has granted to Hyrcanus… and to the Jewish nation, exemption from tribute every seventh year… and that they may be governed according to their own laws.”
Antiquities 14.213–216

These were not vague gestures—they were publicly posted and sent to provincial officials for enforcement.

By the first century, Jews made up 7–10% of the Roman Empire, with communities spread across nearly every major city. Their presence was especially concentrated along Rome’s eastern frontier, bordering the Parthian Empire, Rome’s greatest military rival. For Caesar, Jewish loyalty brought stability to a region where stability was hard to come by.

“Countless myriads of Jews are in every region… in Asia and Europe, in the islands and mainland, in the East and the West.”
—Philo, Embassy to Gaius §281, c. AD 41

“There is no city, no nation, no people among whom our custom… has not spread… they have penetrated every city.”
—Josephus, Against Apion 2.282, c. AD 95

When Caesar was assassinated in 44 BC, the Jews stood out in their mourning.

“At Caesar’s funeral, the Jews alone mourned for him publicly and for many nights kept vigil at his tomb.”
—Appian, Civil Wars 2.148, c. AD 120


Rome Respected the Ancient

Rome didn’t simply tolerate the Jews because of politics. Their religion was ancient—and that mattered deeply in Roman culture. New religions were suspicious. Old ones were revered.

“Whatever their origin, their customs are at least ancient, and therefore entitled to respect.”
—Tacitus, Histories 5.5, c. AD 100

“All new kinds of religion are suspect… only ancient worships are worthy of divine status.”
—Pliny the Elder, Natural History 30.11, c. AD 77

This perspective explains why Jews were granted legal protection, while newer movements like Christianity eventually provoked suspicion and hostility. The age of a religion—its antiquity—was a Roman marker of legitimacy.


Augustus and the Gospel of the Empire

Jesus was born during the reign of Caesar Augustus (27 BC – AD 14), the adopted son of Julius Caesar. He didn’t just inherit Caesar’s power—he inherited Caesar’s divinity.

Augustus was declared Divi Filius—“Son of the Divine [Julius].” He was called savior, lord, and bringer of peace. These weren’t just political slogans—they were religious titles, printed on coins, etched in stone, and celebrated in public festivals.

“He added the title ‘Son of a God’ to his name.”
—Suetonius, Divus Augustus 94.1, c. AD 120

“After my death… the Senate decreed that my name should be included in the hymns of the Salii and be consecrated as a god.”
Res Gestae Divi Augusti §35, written by Augustus, AD 14

“To the Divine Augustus Caesar, Son of the Divine Julius.”
—Temple Dedication, Pergamon (1st c. BC)

One famous inscription from Priene (9 BC) declared:

“Since Providence… has filled [Augustus] with virtue so that he might benefit mankind… sending him as a Savior (sōtēr)… The birthday of the god Augustus was the beginning for the world of the good tidings (euangelion) that have come through him.”

Even his titles were spiritual:

“To our lord, Augustus Caesar, savior of the inhabited world…”
—Provincial Dedication, Asia Minor

So when the Gospel of Mark opens with:

“The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”
—Mark 1:1

—it wasn’t just religious language. It was a counterclaim. A direct confrontation with imperial theology.


Herod the Great and the Mass Crucifixions

Jesus was about two years old when Herod the Great died. Though he expanded the Jerusalem temple and was a Roman ally, Herod was known for ruthless paranoia:

“His whole life was a continual scene of bloodshed… even his own sons were not spared.”
—Josephus, Antiquities 17.191–192

“He gave orders to kill a great number of the most illustrious men of the whole Jewish nation…”
Antiquities 17.204

Among Herod’s victims was Hyrcanus II—the same high priest who had once supported Julius Caesar. His death signaled the end of a political era.

When Herod died in 4 BC, Judea erupted in revolt. The Roman governor Varus responded with overwhelming force:

“Varus… crucified about two thousand of those that had been the authors of the revolt.”
Jewish War 2.5.2

This was the world into which Jesus was born: a land where crosses lined the roads, and loyalty to Rome was enforced by terror.


The Census and the Revolt of Judas the Galilean

By AD 6, Jesus was about 12 years old. Rome had removed Herod’s son Archelaus, annexed Judea, and placed it under direct rule. A census for taxation followed.

“Coponius… had the power of life and death put into his hands by Caesar…”
—Josephus, Antiquities 18.1.1

“In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered…”
—Luke 2:1

For most provinces, a census was normal. But in Judea, taxation felt like a theological betrayal—a declaration that Caesar, not God, was king.

A Galilean named Judas stirred rebellion:

“Judas… said that this taxation was nothing less than slavery… and exhorted the nation to assert their liberty.”
Antiquities 18.4

“They say that God alone is their ruler and lord… and they do not value dying any more than living…”
Jewish War 2.117–118

“This was the beginning of great disturbances.”
Antiquities 18.27

Jesus grew up in Galilee, where this revolt happened. The trauma of crushed rebellion—arrests, crucifixions, suppression—was not distant history. It was personal memory for many families.


Rome Never Forgets

The revolt of Judas the Galilean may have been suppressed, but Rome remembered. Decades later, during the reign of Claudius, Judas’s sons were crucified:

“Two of his sons, James and Simon, were taken and crucified by order of Tiberius Alexander.”
Antiquities 20.102

Even after Jesus’ own crucifixion, Rome continued to hunt down zealot bloodlines. The cross wasn’t just punishment. It was policy.


Other Revolts, Other Crosses

Judea wasn’t the only place that rebelled.

“The Gauls… declared they were being reduced to slavery under the guise of a census and taxation.”
—Tacitus, Annals 3.40, c. AD 100

“The Britons… outraged by abuses and tribute… rose in fury to throw off the Roman yoke.”
Annals 14.31

But the difference in Judea was theological.

The Britons and Gauls wanted political freedom. The Jews wanted God’s reign restored. That made the conflict with Caesar something more than rebellion. It made it blasphemy versus worship.


The Gospel Against the Empire

Jesus was born during a Roman census, raised where a zealot revolt was crushed, and crucified by the same empire that lined Judean roads with crosses.

His death was not the first.
But his death redefined what the cross meant.

The gospel of Caesar said:

“The emperor is savior, son of god, and lord.”

The gospel of Jesus said:

“No. He is.”