The Republic Waits for the Courage of its Senators

My fellow senators:

Though I am usually more abrupt, the events of the past few days necessitate a speech. I was not able to address you as I wished to do on that fateful day, as many men in our congested Senate (many not deserving to be here in the first place, as their cowardice attests) fled the scene of the Liberation. And yet you call yourselves the optimates. Thrice you offended yourselves in your flight from the scene: you offended your courage, you denied me and the true patriots of this country an explanation of our actions, and you denied the needs of the Roman people—those whose interests you claim to protect—out of fear, until you thought it was “safe” to come out of your hiding places, avoiding the very riots that you helped create, until conducting matters of state were convenient for you. Did you men, who longed for the shadow of Caesar’s glory to replace your own civic efforts—did you forget your duty? In our hunger for glory and a more “equal” government, we all forgot. I myself forgot. This failure on the part of my mental fortitude is what plagues my conscience today; my only solace lies in the fact that I was the leader of those who chose the Republic over tyranny, and that, from this point on, I am committed to enabling the Senate to restore itself, and therefore our Republic, in whatever way I can. I pray unto the muses for the rescue of my memory of the glory that was Rome one hundred years prior to this disgraceful age, when men are forced to choose between their friends and their country. For this, Romans, is surely unnatural.

I must ask you: where are we now that Caesar is no more? Look at us, squabbling like the pack of domestic dogs that we have become under his tyrannical rule. Now that he is not here to distribute the spoils of his lengthy campaigns and illegally-waged wars, and we are not there to receive the scraps, what are we to make of ourselves? Are we still beggars? Will you all run away from me a second time? No, optimes cives: although these circumstances seem dire, the crossroads at which we stand today serve us well. The dangers of participating in public life are perhaps the most treacherous of all dangers, even more treacherous than battle with a definite enemy. Therefore these hard times will weed out those who do not wish to participate in restoring this Republic to its former glory because they are afraid of the monster that they helped to create. I do not fear death, because it is not the worst of fates.

My fellow Romans, we allow ourselves to continue the habit of blaming one man for our successes and failures. You relied solely upon Caesar; now look at the disarray that surrounds you, now that you found out he was a mere mortal.

And today many of you seek to blame me, one man, for his death, when in reality many men of this country willed it so long before the liberators did, just as many present today struck blows on that same body. He was dying from the day he was declared Dictator for Life. But if you must blame one man, it was Caesar himself who tipped the scales of justice with his arrogance and utter disregard for the violence he was doing his country. I will not apologize for my actions, nor allow them to be labeled imprudent or vile. Those who dare to contest me ought to look at their own motivations for keeping such a man in power. I should know these motivations well! I kept him in power myself for a while with my concessions and compromises! Then I came to my senses and gathered my courage. Men of the senate, I ask you and beg you to remember how to govern yourselves, or we will all be ruined one day. This is not a threat, but a principle and inevitable result of tyranny that we witnessed with our own eyes. While you may have power and enjoy the friendship of men with great armies and influence one day, you may taste of death the next. Nothing is as sure as the law of the Republic to a Roman citizen, and the wise council of the many as opposed to the greed of the few is surely what we all desire.

These legions of Caesar’s soldiers, once honest, landed men, now sit in the cities, hungry for more scraps, and their numbers grow with their poverty and their restlessness. Unsure of what to do now that their leader is gone, they will sit and wait for another opportunity, for another Caesar. Just as virtue breeds more virtue, so does injustice breed more injustice. Several citizens sitting in this very room possess great armies and would not hesitate to take the inappropriate recourse of gallivanting off into the hinterland to secure their own fortunes at the expense of the immediate security and stability of his own homeland. What shame! What infamy! Caesar died because he ignored the good of his kin who resided in his own country, only seeking favor with his army and with those who he could win over to the side of vice with his use of virtue. As his legions increased, so did the support for this tyranny. Because of these extensive campaigns our population has decreased due to men absent from their homesteads; the urban plebs have grown in size and have taken to rioting whenever something displeases them, which is often. Slaves, instead of citizens, now run the farms. The sheer size of our Republic, which has almost overnight inflated into a cumbersome Empire, requires oversight that not even the most advanced governments can justly exercise. Transportation is dangerous on land and sea, and senators from the provinces cannot bring themselves to meetings of the Senate while also affording the time and resources to aptly assess the happenings within their respective provinces. We have reverted back to the age of the Furies, abandoning the law of our Republic, though it might be cumbersome and thwart our private ambition, for the more convenient rule of one man. What can better hold this vast Republic together than a strict adherence to the established ordo and to ancient principles? What is ambition worth when you have distrust of even your closest advisors and those who you think are your friends? Who among us is sitting uncomfortably next to someone whom they are not sure they can trust?

Caesar was a powerful persuader; even my friend Cicero likened him unto a god because of his disposition, saying that he had “surpassed himself”, likening him unto a god to due his constant display of good graces and apparent virtues. And those, I must admit he possessed, especially in the areas of clemency, military leadership, and prophecy. But all of these things meant nothing in the end, for a tyrant uses these things to deceive. And a tyrant Caesar was.

I have carefully weighed my options of stepping down from my appointed office as an act of goodwill, but I do not see this as necessary, especially because in doing so I would have admitted to a guilt that is not mine. I will only step down if the Senate, in their supreme judgement, wills it, if they see amongst them a more fitting candidate for the job. For theirs is the only wise opinion that has any weight in the area of public matters, the ordo of course, being included in that sacred body. If you, supporters of the dictator, truly love and respect Caesar’s memory, then you will leave intact his appointments. But if the majority of you agree with me and say that he is a tyrant, thereby rendering his will ineffective, then the ordo stands firm anyway.

I leave you now to ponder these things and pray that the gods restore your convictions.