by Pat Brown
But when Cleopatra has “his” child, he “allows” her to use the name Caesarion but does not brag about “his” son, nor does he put the child in his will. One would think he would be quite thrilled to admit the child was his. It would seem that his lack of acknowledgment speaks volumes, although some might say he didn’t want to admit he had a son with some foreign queen, especially an Egyptian one. But, since Caesar was known to have numerous affairs and he openly spent time with Cleopatra and had her stay in Rome with the child, I hardly think that argument is very strong.
Let’s assume Julius Caesar knew full well or at least had a pretty good clue that he couldn’t get a woman pregnant or at least suspected he couldn’t. I don’t know of any man who was told that he absolutely could not father a child and yet is not willing to believe he actually could, even if it was just once in fifty years. This might well be the best argument for why Caesar could possibly have known a child might not be his but might not openly deny it. He would quietly allow Cleopatra to make her claims as to paternity. Impregnating the young Cleopatra makes him look virile, and that in itself is quite an ego boost. He can brag, at least privately, about how he got her pregnant and how he finally has a son. He can also tell friends that he has to keep it to a dull roar due to politics. Not claiming the child in his will, though, is rather a big clue to the likelihood of the child not being his.
“Fathering a son” with Cleopatra has some benefits for Caesar. Along with male bragging rights, having a son born to Cleopatra means that the child will one day become pharaoh. This also means Cleopatra doesn’t have to marry and start another contentious and possibly lethal Ptolemaic battle for the throne. Having a son as coruler with Cleopatra, especially a very young son, allows a better possibility for peace in Egypt and a controlled handling of the country by Cleopatra for a long time. Having a son in name as pharaoh in Egypt connects Egypt to Rome in a familial way, ensuring Egypt and its rulers continue to support Rome.
What of Cleopatra? What is in it for her? Well, certainly the protection of Rome would be secured, at least in a relative way. Also, as I stated earlier, Cleopatra wouldn’t have to find a husband if she didn’t want one (especially another Ptolemy with whom a “till death do us part” marriage usually came sooner than later). She would follow in her father’s footsteps in a strong relationship with Rome, and what better way than to be a consort to Caesar and the mother of his child as well as being the best pharaoh for the job? Cleopatra proved over and over she did not leave things to chance, and she always had a Plan B and C just in case the first one wasn’t panning out. She stacked the deck in her favor as often as she could.
If you were Cleopatra and you had only a short time with a man who had fathered a child only once in his four decades of sexual escapades, what would you do? What would you do if you wanted to ensure you were pregnant before he left, that you would have a baby by him, if you had no way of knowing whether or not he was sterile? The only way to make sure you became pregnant would be to add another male to the mix, one who was virile and close enough in looks to either Caesar or oneself for any potential child to not have his or her paternity in question.
There is clearly a top candidate a female Ptolemy would choose under those circumstances: one’s brother. Ptolemy XIII must have been a hormone-infested young teen at the time, so what better man or boy to seduce than him? Her brother was available at the palace, and incest wasn’t looked down upon by the Ptolemies, so even if Cleopatra changed her mind on naming Caesar as father, the real father was more than acceptable. Ptolemy XIII would look like Cleopatra and was available while Caesar was off being general. In fact, her brother was likely stir crazy from staying in the palace and, in spite of the enmity between Cleopatra and the older of her two brothers, I am sure Cleopatra could easily find a way to entice him into a little sex. And it didn’t hurt that Ptolemy XIII then disappeared in the river during the final battle of the Alexandrian War! He certainly couldn’t claim paternity from beyond the grave.
The elder Ptolemy brother decided to join his troops when Caesar’s backups from Asia (under the leadership of Mithraidates, along with reinforcements from the Nabataeans and the Jews) arrived in Egypt. They came up behind Ptolemy’s forces on the Nile, and he supposedly drowned. His body was never found, just his armor, which for some reason didn’t have his body in it, so excuse me for being a bit skeptical. One wonders if Cleopatra had any hand in his death. She eliminated a rival and, possibly, the real father of her son, which left a much more manageable situation for the future.
Since Cleopatra never liked leaving anything to chance if she had any method of controlling or influencing the turn of events, I would bet she added a male Ptolemy to the trysting to be very sure she was pregnant before Caesar went on his way. We will see again and again that she could have simply let events play out, but she did not leave anything to the Fates; she took specific action in an attempt to determine the desired outcome. The Ptolemies married their own siblings to limit any outside influences and incursions on their families; they killed anyone, even their own, if they were a threat. Cleopatra tossed her coregent brother aside as soon as she reached the throne. She ruled with him temporarily again only because Caesar had to appease the Alexandrians. Then by luck or “made” luck, Ptolemy XIII was out of the picture again when he “drowned” in the Nile. Caesar immediately appointed the younger brother, Ptolemy XIV, to rule with Cleopatra (as her second husband). Ptolemy XIV, what a surprise, died (of disease—or was he poisoned?) just two years later, while “she was away on business.” This left Cleopatra and Caesarion as corulers until the end.
I arose early in the Egyptian morning and gazed out of my hotel-room window at the Mediterranean Sea that lay between me and Italy, where I was headed in a few hours. As I packed my bags at the hotel, I thought about how closely connected Alexandria and Rome were for so many years, even though they were on different continents with over a thousand of miles of water between them. No matter how hard Cleopatra worked to hold onto the sovereignty of her country and to extinguish the male threats in her life, she had little choice but to deal with the Roman men who kept coming at her. She handled them all as well as she could, but clearly the Roman general Julius Caesar was her most fortunate encounter; their individual political needs complemented each other, and neither had a problem with (i.e., was threatened by) the existence of the other or their behavior. Caesar was generous and Cleopatra was cooperative. As long as Caesar was in power, Cleopatra was doing well, as was Egypt. She could last for years in relative peace with him as her beneficent dictator. Too bad he was assassinated. Cleopatra was left with the choice of Antony or Octavian; like her brother’s dilemma with Pompey and Caesar, she had to pick one of them to woo, bribe, and gain the favor of if she wanted to survive.
At noon, I caught my flight to Rome. I realized halfway there that my hijab was feeling a bit strange in the company of my fellow female passengers, of whom very few had head coverings. I made a quick run to the airline toilet and pulled it off. Then I ran a brush though my hair and went back to my seat. Even though I now matched more of the ladies on the plane, I felt a bit naked after having my head covered for so long. It took a ride into the center of Rome and seeing all the women in short skirts and blond, red, and black hair before I started feeling comfortable again. Once I checked into my hotel, I changed out of my long skirt, slipped into some jeans and (oh my!) a sleeveless shirt, and went out to tour the city.
Rome is a vibrant, busy, and fascinating mix of old and new, with churches built centuries ago, Trevi Fountain, and bridges that are hundreds of years old, but I found it hard to really imagine the world in which the three Roman leaders—Caesar, Antony, and Octavian—occupied, developed their unique perspectives, fought for dominance in the Mediterranean world, and came to blows over the politics of the day in the Senate. As I walked through the city, what I saw left from ancient Rome were some columns and a remaining wall here and there. In one area, my favorite, were the ruins of t
he Temples of Concord and Saturn, which stood along the side of the road, modern buildings behind them. In spite of the mixture of ancient and modern scenery, following the road, one can imagine walking through Rome in those bygone days. But, unlike Egypt where entire structures exist—like Dendera with its roof intact and fully painted rooms inside or the pyramids that have stood solid for eons, missing only their veneer; or Luxor, which covers a substantial area and still has many soaring walls with reliefs and intact massive statues—what is left of the Rome of Caesar and Antony are mere bits and pieces. To get a real picture of the city as the inhabitants of the time might have seen it, I had to stop and purchase a book with overlays that show what the buildings may have looked like at the time. Only the Coliseum stands as a nearly complete structure in which you can see its magnificence and grand size from inside and out.
From what remains of the city, I understand that Rome was quite a metropolis with its fine architecture, but I couldn’t help feeling that Egypt rather outdid the Roman homeland in its heyday, and this could well be why the Romans were so enamored by Cleopatra’s Alexandria. Simply put, Alexandria was richer and grander.
But certainly you can find in Rome a great many statues and busts of all the famous characters of Italian history. While this is pretty much nonexistent in Egypt—there are no public statues of Cleopatra or her father or any of the other Ptolemies—in Rome I could “see” Julius Caesar, Mark Antony, and Octavian. During my last trip to Rome when I was working with Atlantic Productions, we stopped in front of a statue of Octavian, and I was asked to profile the man based on his facial features in marble. I had to laugh. I told them it was not really possible to extract a personality from a simple physical reproduction of someone’s face; likewise, in our modern world, one cannot make detailed commentary on a still photo of an individual, decide if he is evil or cruel, capable of a violent crime or not. It is not all that rare to come across a photo of a smiling man posing with his seemingly adoring wife and happy children, only to learn he shot his family to death in their beds a few days after the picture was taken. However, there is something that can be learned from a reproduction of a person if it is verified to relatively accurately depict the person’s features. In a wax museum, we can see the height and weight of a person, note their level of attractiveness. What we do see from the statues of our three Roman men is that Mark Antony is a bit of a hunk, strapping and handsome; Julius Caesar appears to be good-looking and rather patrician in appearance; and Octavian is quite effeminate, unimposing, shall I say, a bit wimpy and boyish. Their outward demeanors would indeed affect how they would have seen themselves, how others would have seen them, and how Cleopatra would have seen them. Interestingly, I find the statues to be quite representative of the men after reviewing their behavioral histories.
Just as it was important to examine the history and culture into which Cleopatra was born, our Romans also came into a place and time that influenced their characters and choices and helped shape the men they became. They were all born into a republic; the monarchy of the past had been dismantled by Brutus, who encouraged the Roman people to depose the king and then establish a democratic system with elected representatives. Although the Roman citizens were members of different social strata and the levels of status these represented, they were expected to recognize their duty as members of the republic. From what I could discern, duty was the most important measuring stick with which they evaluated themselves and against which other Romans judged them. Duty would be a major influencing factor in the success or failure of these men.
The republic did quite well, and along with that achievement, Rome had defeated the Greek kingdoms following the demise of Alexander the Great, and by 146 BCE, Rome was the major power in the region. Then something went amiss. Many wonder, if Rome was so successful in its governing method and it had conquered vast territory ruled by many nations and, in so doing, could easily supply its citizens with a high quality of life, why did dictatorship raise its ugly head again, and why did the empire devolve into civil war?
A rather flippant answer would be that nothing lasts forever. For example, if a church is running well, into the calm someone introduces tension, dissatisfaction with the status quo, or a viewpoint that doesn’t jibe with the majority; factions develop, and over time the church splits, with the dissenting group forming a new church with the word reformed added to it. There is also an innate desire many people have to be led, to believe that there is a greater future in front of them, and if a charismatic leader happens to appear in their midst, his ability to change the course of events can be astounding. We have seen this often in history with figures such as Abraham Lincoln, Winston Churchill, Adolf Hitler, and Nelson Mandela. Leaders usually vault to prominence when there is either a feeling of inferiority, desperation, or malaise within the population. I believe that the rise of Julius Caesar and what followed was due to a time in Roman history where there was not enough positive leadership and the citizens wanted something more, something exciting, something new.
Gaius Julius Caesar was a striking figure. As a man from the ruling class, he had royal bearing and, interestingly, a claim to be descended from the gods, much like the claims of Philip and Alexander and the Egyptian pharaohs. It would be easy for the populace to be in awe of him, to look up to him as quite a superior man. Of course, it was to his advantage that the reign of a man named Sulla, a military leader who had stormed Rome, crushed his political opponents, and established himself as a dictator who terrorized everyone, had been in power just before Caesar’s appearance on the scene. Not long before his death, Sulla resigned. Compared to his brutal dictatorship, Julius Caesar was viewed as a much more pleasant option. Sulla not only failed in his duty to be a good “king,” he was cruel and vicious. Caesar, on the other hand, was a much more magnanimous ruler, and he aimed to please his people in a variety of ways. He was even kind to his slaves and to gladiators, who won him a lot of points with the masses. He had more problems with the Senate and his peers because they viewed him as a bit of a dandy with his elaborate clothing, his love for the ladies, and his extravagance.
Pompey, the other Roman general whose army Caesar would defeat in Egypt during Rome’s civil strife (and whom Ptolemy XIII killed in his mistaken attempt to please Caesar), was one of his foes. Not one to let bad feelings stand in the way of a good political move, Caesar married his only daughter, Julia, to Pompey. Then Caesar surprised everyone by turning out to be an extremely good military leader as well as a great political strategist. Caesar simply was very intelligent in the political sphere and on the battlefield—a genius of his generation. One more military leader, Crassus, made up the third man of the triumvirate, the three men who were supposed to be managing Rome but instead ended up fighting each other for it, causing the civil wars that tore the country apart for years. Crassus fell first, killed in battle, leaving just Caesar and Pompey to determine the fate of the empire.
After Julia’s death and Pompey’s demise in Egypt, Caesar gained virtual control of Rome, and he managed to do a fine job of eventually suppressing the rest of the civil uprisings and came back to Rome the conquering hero. Then, over time, he made the same mistake as King Philip. He began to believe his own inflated public image and allowed himself to be honored with the title “Dictator for Life,” which annoyed and aggravated the ruling class. They saw their power being diminished; they were made to feel small in Caesar’s presence and forced to remain too much in his shadow to feel kindly toward him. Julius Caesar forgot one of his required duties. When you crush the egos of those who think they are entitled to share the spotlight (unlike the populace who is just thrilled not to be mistreated and to get a few more crumbs than they expect), you create enemies. It is always important to remember that those closest to you and who have some power can be a dangerous lot. This Caesar found out when he was murdered on the Ides of March in 44 BCE.
Caesar’s biggest problem was that once he obtained nearly complete political authority, he b
ecame increasingly autocratic, as is common when a ruler possesses too much power. He used this power to overrule, control, and eliminate those he found to be troublesome or threatening. Narcissism, which is pretty much a common trait among all great leaders, can render a head of state oblivious to how others view their ruler and thereby breed a great deal of enmity and discontent. Caesar’s enemies quite clearly understood that he was already a dictator and, if he managed to crush Parthia, the only major threat left against Rome, he would become emperor.
How much damage control Caesar attempted to do is a bit unclear. He brought Mark Antony back to be his consul, possibly to appear as though he was still sharing some power and was in tune with his military. During one public ceremony, it is reported that Antony attempted to crown him with a laurel wreath to signify his position as king but Caesar twice declined the honor.
Plutarch writes about this peculiar event:
And it was Antony who also unwittingly supplied the conspirators with their most specious pretext. For at the festival of the Lycaea, which the Romans call Lupercalia, Caesar, arrayed in a triumphal robe and seated in the forum upon the rostra, was viewing the runners to and fro. Now, the runners to and fro are many noble youths and many of the magistrates, anointed with oil, and with leathern thongs they strike in sport those whom they meet. Antony was one of these runners, but he gave the ancient usages the go-by, and twining a wreath of laurel round a diadem, he ran with it to the rostra, where he was lifted on high by his fellow runners and put it on the head of Caesar, thus intimating that he ought to be king. When Caesar with affected modesty declined the diadem, the people were delighted and clapped their hands. Again Antony tried to put the diadem on Caesar’s head, and again Caesar pushed it away. This contest went on for some time, a few of Antony’s friends applauding his efforts to force the diadem upon Caesar, but all the people applauding with loud cries when Caesar refused it. And this was strange, too, that while the people were willing to conduct themselves like the subjects of a king, they shunned the name of king as though it meant the abolition of their freedom. At last Caesar rose from the rostra in displeasure, and pulling back the toga from his throat cried out that anyone who pleased might smite him there. The wreath, which had been hung upon one of his statues, certain tribunes of the people tore down. These men the people greeted with favouring cries and clapping of hands; but Caesar deprived them of their office.1
