Memory in the Midst

Oh, Romans, there is blood on the ground! It is not the blood of our enemies, of painted barbarians, but the blood of Rome- of one of the greatest men this Republic has ever known. The very man who brought us glory from Gaul, who quelled the ravages of civil war, who has tried to keep Rome running smoothly, has now met his end. How do we repay his years of devotion to Rome? With blood. Rome runs in chaos, searching in the twilight for friends while foes circle around every corner and in every shadow.
Rome cannot afford this chaos. We need stability. We must stand as one untied front, not clamoring around like wild men. First we must show Rome that for whatever his vices, Caesar’s accomplishments deserve recognition. A man who refuses to become king when a crown is offered to him is a rare thing indeed, and there is even a doubt as to how he should be buried? To put even this wonder aside, remembering his triumph, his career, his family and the love that the people have for him is enough to convince many that this man should be buried properly, publicly, and with honors. It is the sort of thing we would do for any politician, general, or father.
Next, we must make sure that this crisis does not consume Rome once again in the fire of civil war. What manner of men would we be if without barbarians to conquer, we simply resorted to killing each other? I say we would be less then men, and that proud Rome would lie in ruins. We must observe the same degree of decency that Caesar showed both his friends and those who called themselves his enemies. As for his assassins- my heart aches to know that noble men who called Caesar their friend and who enjoyed the benefits of his clemency and his friendship would call him tyrant. Let their shame be known for betraying so great a man, but even Caesar knew that shame does not affect the hearts of men when they are dead. Let them be shown mercy insofar as they be allowed to live knowing the guilt of what they’ve done, for Caesar believed that “ most people only remember only what happens last: when criminals are brought to justice, they forget their guilt and talk only of their punishment, if it is of unusual severity” (Sallust 217).
Rome herself has been wounded by Caesar’s death. When he was cut down, a consul fell, as well as a general. Caesar was wise enough to make appointments for who would follow him in time. Unfortunately, time has moved too swiftly, and for this reason we should follow along Caesar’s prescribed path. He has men in charge of his armies, but who is left to fill the void of consul? Had he been alive to make the journey, he would have had me serve as consul suffectus, a position historically meant for when a consul dies, rather than simply departs for war. Clearly Caesar is dead, and we are without a consul. Those who fear the rule of one man should ensure that this lofty office not remain vacant. Those who follow the memory of Caesar would have his appointments maintained, for to go against his wishes after his death would be a sign of disloyalty to his memory.
Truly, it is Caesar’s memory we must preserve. To revoke his wishes after his death, to desecrate his body, to revoke the mercy he once bestowed, all of these things would shame Caesar’s memory. If he called you friend, if he granted you his mercy, if he was your own blood, you ought not dare to defile him in such a way.