We have explored the various factors that have kept the memory of Julius Caesar so vivid and so relevant. But how far was the path of his comet, as it burned its way through the mists of history, really an unusual one? How far was Caesar a man of his time and class, more energetic and more able than most, but not essentially different in aims and vision? Did he become the initiator of a new form of government at Rome, the forerunner or even the first of the Roman emperors, as Suetonius and some others have thought (see Pitcher, chapter 19; Barnes, chapter 20; Levick, chapter 15). If so, was it by accident or by design? As for Caesar as a general and governor, recent studies pinpoint, through Caesar’s writings, the preconceptions which he shared with his readers about imperialism and about warfare. Nonetheless, his place in the history of Roman imperialism is as ambiguous as his place in the history of the Roman constitution, for some have thought the enormous expansion brought about by Pompey and Caesar marks them as unusual for their generation
(Eckstein 2006a). Indeed it might be argued, that Caesar, in taking Illyricum as his province, showed that he already saw the need to which Augustus would give high priority, i. e. that Pompey’s eastern conquests had now made it imperative for Rome to forge a land route through the Balkans, to facilitate communication between the halves of her sprawling empire.
Ronald Syme, the great scholar of the transition from Republic to Principate, was critical of studies of Caesar that treat him in isolation from his peers. The manuscript entitled Caesar, found among his papers when he died, was intended to measure Caesar’s career against what might be considered normal or typical in the career of a young Roman aristocrat. Brutus and Cassius, Decimus Brutus and Trebonius, were all to have had chapters in the book And yet, even Syme wanted to write a book about Caesar in particular. First, because he could not escape the fascination of Caesar’s personality: he saw him as a dandy in dress, a pedant about language, and a rigorous purist, and remarked, ‘‘such persons may be intolerably despotic; he was an expert on religious ritual and loved ceremony - a kind of ancient ‘Anglo-Catholic’.’’2 But he was also fascinated by Caesar’s situation, seeing in him a child of his time who was bewildered and dismayed by the political change he had unwittingly precipitated. Far from having an early ambition to achieve the position of absolute power, which he finally did achieve, Syme believed that Caesar relished the game of Republican politics - at which he excelled - until, by one rash move, he ‘‘wrecked the playground’’ and destroyed all that he most valued. Far from having a grand plan for a new kind of government, he found himselfin a position which he deplored and which he decided to escape by fighting a war in the East. Syme’s Caesar is a tragic figure, almost looking for assassination.3
As Cicero said in 46 BC, addressing the Dictator himself, ‘‘Among those yet unborn there will arise, as there has arisen among us, a sharp division of opinion. Some shall laud your achievements to the skies, others will find something missing in them’’ (Marcell. 29). This volume can pose, but it cannot answer, the questions about his place in history: it does not decide between the Mommsen and the Syme approaches to Julius Caesar. Still less does it pass moral judgment, on Caesar or on his opponents. Yet these essays should provide readers with the ancient evidence and the historical context for his life and opinions. It should also acquaint them with the many interpretations that have been placed on them, in history and literature, in art and music, through the more than two thousand years that have elapsed since the Ides of March.
World History
