Caesar’s thoughts now had to turn to a political settlement. He had paid brief visits to Rome during the civil wars and as his dominance over the empire grew he had assumed greater political powers. In 49 he had himself established as dictator and used the power of the post to ensure he achieved the consulship of 48, the consulship he had always intended to hold. He also held a dictatorship for short periods before the office was given to him for a period of ten years in 46 and for life in 44. This was a clear breach of convention—the post was designed only to be held for a short period during an emergency—but now Caesar acquired on a permanent basis all its powers, which included the right to overrule all other magistrates and to have immunity from the vetoes of the tribunes. In 46 he was again made consul and never surrendered the post. He remained pontifex maximus and strengthened his influence over Roman religious life by becoming an augur (one of those responsible for divination) in 47.
The powers of 46 were granted by an enthusiastic if obsequious senate after the news of the victory at Thapsus had reached Rome. Caesar was awarded no less than four triumphs. The fact that he had won a civil war against fellow citizens was concealed by allocating each triumph to a victory over foreigners, the Gauls, the
Egyptians, Pharnaces, and king Juba of Numidia. They were held with appropriate splendour in September 46. The celebrations ended with gladiatorial games (as gladiators could only fight in honour of the dead the games were dedicated to the memory of Julia) and the opening of the magnificent new basilica and forum that Caesar had been building since 54. Each citizen was granted a cash handout together with a special issue of grain and oil.
Caesar was, in fact, acquiring the aura of a Hellenistic monarch although he was careful to scotch any attempts to make him divine or to allow the charged word rex, king, to be used of him. The question remained whether he could sustain this new role, eliminate the old order completely, and stabilize the state. He did set about tackling some of the abuses and tensions of society. A system for the fair settlement of debts had been decreed in 48. Disorder in Rome was curbed by banning the collegia and the problem of the poor tackled by reducing the number of families eligible for free corn. At the same time new colonies were set up overseas. Some 80,000 citizens were persuaded to emigrate, forming permanent centres of Roman culture in the provinces. Citizenship was also granted to loyal provincial communities. Taxes in the provinces were to be collected directly, no longer through tax farmers, and measures were taken to eliminate the bribery of juries. The traditional Roman calendar, which was made up of a year of 355 days, with an extra month of 22 or 23 days added every other year, was replaced on the advice of an Alexandrian astronomer, Sosigenes, by one of 365 days with one extra day added every four years. (This calendar lasted until it required further reform in the sixteenth century.)
None of this solved the crucial issue of Caesar’s position within the state. It seemed to be becoming increasingly absolutist, and opposition began to grow, particularly among the noble families of the senate who saw the house packed with those Caesar wished to reward, many of them army officers or provincials. The changing mood towards Caesar can be seen through the eyes of Cicero. He had agonized over which side to take in the civil war and had then chosen Pompey’s. Once Pompey had been defeated he threw himself on the mercy of Caesar, who treated him with the clemency and consideration that remained one of his most attractive qualities. Cicero had hoped against hope that Caesar’s rule might lead at last to the stable and united republic of which he had dreamed. In a speech in the senate in late 46 he praised Caesar for his generosity and ability to bring reconciliation to the state. Yet, although he never lost an admiration for Caesar as a man, he inevitably became disillusioned with the stifling of political life as Caesar’s behaviour became more overtly monarchical. After his daughter Tullia died he shared his despair in a moving letter to his friend Servius Sulpicius:
Now I cannot escape from the sorrow of my home into public affairs, and find anything in them to console me, whereas before I always had a place at home to cheer me up when I came home depressed from public life. So I’m not at home, and I’m not in public life; my home cannot console me for the sorrow I feel for the free Republic, nor can public life compensate for the grief I feel at home. (Translation: Elizabeth Rawson)
Fortunately Cicero’s intellectual powers remained intact. In his distress he set himself the task of presenting the fruits of Greek philosophy in Latin for an audience that could not read Greek for itself. There was a sense of mission here, of bringing Greek culture to Rome. ‘Greek literature is read in nearly every nation, but Latin only within its own boundaries, and those, we must grant, are narrow,’ as he told his readers. There was also a personal motive, seen in one lost work, Consolatio, of trying to come to terms with his grief by exploring his emotions through the similar experiences of others. These final works ofhis life tackled epistemology (Academica), the ultimate aim of life (De Finibus), the nature of the gods (De Natura Deorum), and moral philosophy (De Officiis), with shorter works on friendship and old age. Many concepts proved untranslatable into Latin and so Cicero had to coin words to express them. Words such as ‘quality’, ‘essence’, and ‘moral’ (qualitas, essentia, and moralis) all appear for the first time. In these works Cicero’s prose achieved a range and precision that made it a model for those who came after him. He was the hero of the Italian Humanists (see further Chapter 36).
In his exposition of philosophy Cicero adopted a tone of intellectual detachment. He never attempted to be original and his approach was sceptical. He believed in countering superstition by reason yet at the same time doubted whether there was such a thing as certainty. Insofar as he warmed to any school of philosophy it was to Stoicism with its emphasis on endurance and commitment to public life for the good of all. While he was prepared to believe in some form of divine being, Cicero felt that the traditional gods of Rome and the variety of new gods which were entering Rome from Egypt and the east were no more than human creations, attractive only to the credulous. What he would never question was the central place that religious ritual occupied in Roman life; it was as much part of it as the clamour of political activity in the Forum.
For the final months of Caesar’s life Cicero was absent from public life. Although there were claims that he was involved in the plot to kill Caesar there is no direct evidence for it. The plot was hatched at a time when Caesar’s future ambitions were arousing increasing concern. The senate continued to pile honours on him, the dictatorship for life, the renaming of the month Quinctilis after him (it survives today in English as July), a gilded chair and triumphal robe for his public appearances. At one festivity a crown was placed on Caesar’s knees. Caesar’s fellow consul for the year, Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony), attempted to place it on his head but Caesar threw it into the crowd. He may simply have become irritated by the ceremonies of public life. When a delegation from the senate approached him with the offer of new honours he did not even stand up. By early 44 his energies were being taken up by the more congenial task of planning a major campaign in the east.
It is hard to know how Caesar saw his own position and whether he had any clear concept of himself as ruler. In his last months he seems to have been attracted to the idea of himself as divine (as Alexander was). In the east he was already accepted as a god (‘descended from Ares and Aphrodite’, as one acclamation from Asia put it). There was nothing unusual in this, but things seem to have been taken further than usual in Rome when Caesar accepted the idea of a temple dedicated to him and the appointment of Mark Antony as his flamen or priest. More provocative to the average Roman were the accumulation of honours and trappings that hinted of kingship. Here Caesar’s behaviour was deeply ambiguous. Some have argued that more public enthusiasm for the idea would have encouraged him to declare himself as king, others that he never intended to challenge the most sacred concept of republicanism, that of freedom from royal tyranny. It may have been that he felt himself trapped between rival expectations and that the planned trip to the east was an attempt to escape the impasse.
For many of the noble elite, however, the notion of libertas was one that was sacrosanct. It proved a powerful rallying call even if it did not offer a clear alternative for political stability. A varied group of conspirators were inspired by it. There were committed republicans such as Cassius and Brutus, the leaders, both former supporters of Pompey whom Caesar had forgiven, and others with more personal resentments. The secret was well kept. Caesar was due to attend a meeting of the senate in a great hall adjoining Pompey’s theatre. One of the conspirators was delegated to throw himself at Caesar’s feet with a petition, pulling Caesar’s toga downwards so he could not defend himself. The others were then to stab him. On 15 March 44, three days before Caesar was due to leave on campaign, the murder took place as planned. Caesar fell bleeding to death at the foot of a statue of Pompey. (His body was burnt in the Forum and flowers, left by unknown admirers, are still to be found today on the supposed spot of the cremation.)