by Pat Brown
As my readers are now well aware, I do not take Plutarch’s stories as necessarily facts of history. It is difficult to know from his words what exactly happened and what is just his way of telling a good tale. My analysis of this account is that Plutarch details some behavior on the part of Caesar that doesn’t quite make sense. I think Plutarch is embellishing in an attempt to explain why future events unfolded, why rising anger of those around Caesar erupted after this celebration, and led to the decision to murder him. I think Plutarch is also attempting to show Antony as an unwitting participant, that he just did things without thinking that allowed others to use his foolish behavior to justify their own violent actions.
In analyzing this particular story, I find the event itself to be believable. Why? Caesar had brought Antony back to be his mouthpiece in what I believe to be an attempt to downplay publicly what he and the Senate already knew, that his position as head of state was virtually unassailable. This was a rather poor attempt to show he was not hogging all the power for himself. Antony had not been in his good graces since Caesar returned from his sojourn with Cleopatra only to discover that Antony had completely mismanaged the finances of the “republic” while he was gone. He summarily dismissed Antony from his position, but now, with the Parthian campaign about to go forth, he needed to express some goodwill toward his general and other “leaders.” He may have felt Antony would be grateful to him for being brought back to Rome and honored in such a way and, therefore, would be a relatively safe choice as one of his inner circle. Caesar may even have thought Antony would bring him a level of protection from those who wished to unseat their dictator from his pedestal. And he no doubt wanted to keep an eye on Mark Antony.
This ceremonial gesture of having Antony come up from the crowd and attempt to crown Caesar king would serve two purposes. First, it would show Antony’s support for him and, second, it would show the people and his detractors that he did not consider himself to be so grandiose a figure as to think himself a king at all. It would be a staged piece of propaganda, not unlike other such shows put on in the past. But that Caesar stood up and bared his throat, challenging his enemies to kill him, makes no sense whatsoever. Such a gesture would only serve to anger his enemies and it would gain him nothing to have the citizens of Rome view such a challenge, especially at that time, since it is diametrically opposed to his earlier humble refusal of the crown. I believe the first event most likely occurred, but Plutarch tossed in Caesar’s brazen action to give an excuse for Caesar’s future murderers to take great offense and reach a tipping point where they must then act on their resentments.
Before we discuss that crime scene in which Caesar was brutally eliminated from the Roman tableau, let’s stop to review why Cleopatra smartly tied her future to him. He was a great general who had proved he could provide military support and safety for Egypt. He provided an heir and coregent for Cleopatra (at least he didn’t dispute the paternity), which allowed her to rule without keeping her dangerous brothers around to constantly threaten her life and position. He was willing to leave Egypt in the hands of Cleopatra, which was her fervent wish—to continue as pharaoh for life. He was her best opportunity and the perfect distant partner she could have hoped for.
Sadly, her perfect situation would come to a quick and unpleasant end.
The next two important players in the game of power would end up being Mark Antony, Caesar’s consul and top general, and Octavian, Caesar’s nephew. At the time of Caesar’s assassination on March 15, 44 BCE, Mark Antony was thirty-nine years old and the long-time protégé of Caesar. He had been a popular general, a fine orator, and a consul to Caesar for a short time prior to the assassination. But Caesar was not always enamored with Antony. He wasn’t too pleased with a number of Antony’s traits. Plutarch writes this of Antony:
[He] was completely ignorant of much that was done in his name, not merely because he was of an easygoing disposition, but because he was simple enough to trust his subordinates. His character was, in fact, essentially simple and he was slow to perceive the truth. Once he recognized that he was at fault, he was full of repentance and ready to admit his errors to those he had wronged. Whenever he had to punish an offence or right an injustice, he acted on the grand scale, and it was generally considered that he overstepped the bounds far more often in the rewards he bestowed than in the punishments he inflicted. As for the kind of course and insolent banter which he liked to exchange, this carried its own remedy with it, for anyone could return his ribaldry with interest, and he enjoyed being laughed at quite as much as laughing at others. And in fact it was this quality which often did him harm, for he found it impossible to believe that the real purpose of those who took liberties and cracked jokes with him was to flatter him. He never understood that some men go out of their way to adopt a frank and outspoken manner and use it like a piquant sauce to disguise the cloying taste of flattery. Such men deliberately indulge in bold repartee and an aggressive flow of talk when they are in their cups, so that the obsequious compliance which they show in matters of business does not suggest that they associate with a man merely to please him, but seems to spring from a genuine conviction of his superior wisdom.1
Basically, Plutarch was calling Antony a fool. But he also points out some good qualities:
But, indeed the traits that seemed vulgar to some—his boastfulness and his jesting, his open indulgence in drink, his habit of sitting with his soldiers when they ate or eating standing at the common table—gave the troops an amazing amount of goodwill and even love for him. He was lustful but charming as well: he captivated many people, as he often helped those in love and could make light of his own love life. Also the liberal generosity and unthrifty indulgence he showed his soldiers and friends afforded him an auspicious beginning to his quest for power and, once he became prominent, these tendencies increased his power manifold despite the hindrances posed by his many flaws.2
So Plutarch may say Antony is not that bright and has some bad habits, but he was popular with his men, knew how to have a good time, and could make people feel good.
Caesar and Antony had a long period of separation that finally ended when Caesar let him back into his good graces as co-consul. Antony continued in that position for seven years until Caesar’s murder in 44 BCE, so he likely served quite a useful purpose for Caesar in maintaining control of Rome. However, when Antony was given that position, he was thirty-two years old, still relatively young in comparison to Caesar and most likely at a time in life when being second to the great man was a good spot to be. Fast-forward to Antony nearing forty and still in that position, and we can see that midlife crisis and ambition may well have melded together and led to a lust for power that would never be achieved if Caesar remained dictator.
There is no question that Antony was ambitious; we can certainly see with his future partnering with Cleopatra, he was not willing to take a back seat to Octavian. Even immediately after Caesar’s death, we see that he happily stepped into the power vacuum and didn’t attempt to return Rome to a republic. For this reason, I don’t agree with Plutarch that Antony was just a passive, impotent bystander to the assassination. This is what Plutarch claims to have happened:
These events encouraged Brutus and Cassius: enlisting those of their friends who were trustworthy in the plot, they inquired about Antony. Everyone was eager to admit him but Trebonious opposed it: he said that, at the time when many went to meet Caesar as he returned from Spain, he and Antony had traveled together and shared a tent and that he had gently and discreetly inquired about Antony’s opinion, but that, while Antony understood him he did not approve of the plot, but he said nothing to Caesar, instead faithfully keeping the secret. After this, they thought of murdering Antony after they had killed Caesar; Brutus stopped them on the grounds that a deed undertaken in the name of the law and justice should be pure and uncorrupted by injustice. Some, afraid of Antony’s strength and political reputation assigned several of the conspirators to watch him, so
that when Caesar entered the Senate and the deed was about to be done, they might restrain him by engaging him in some urgent conversation.3
Antony may not have had quite the intellect of Caesar or Octavian, but I find it hard to believe that he was quite as oblivious as Plutarch makes him out to be. He would not have been so successful as a general for so many years, nor would he have done so well in politics for nearly a decade, if he didn’t have a fairly calculating mind. His main downfall was likely that he was quite a drinker, and it was this failing that the fairly alcohol-abstaining Caesar did not like about him, in addition to the fact that Caesar was insulted by Antony’s power-grabbing move of stealing the spoils of Pompey’s estate out from under him. Antony also had a massive ego, which clashed with Caesar’s own impressive image of himself—two men with strong narcissistic personalities often find it difficult to tolerate each other’s presence. However, in the long run, Caesar may have decided that keeping his friends close and his enemies closer might be the wiser move, and this is why he brought Antony back to Rome as his consul; by having him returned to Rome, essentially as his lieutenant, Caesar quashed Antony’s independent upward rise. This was a clever move, but, as with many a good plan, time and other events can eventually turn the tide, and as the Ides of March neared, there was considerable dissent in the ranks and Antony would know it would be time to make his move or forever lose the opportunity.
Caesar was planning to head off on his Parthian campaign on March 18, and if he won, he would remove in one stroke all remaining threats to the empire and any opposition to his assumption of the role of emperor. His enemies, and in my opinion that included Antony, had to strike quickly to prevent him from achieving that goal. More than sixty senators were involved in the conspiracy, so it is hard to believe that Mark Antony had no clue as to what was about to happen and, more likely, as Plutarch did point out, he knew exactly when and where it was to happen. Had he really been in Caesar’s corner and satisfied with his lot in political life, he would have run to Caesar and told him of the plan. In fact, had any of the conspirators believed that Antony might have any misgivings about the assassination, it hardly makes sense that they would have been foolish to even bring up the subject in his company. They absolutely knew he was on their side, and whether he was the actual ringleader, as I believe, or just a willing co-conspirator, Antony knew full well what the Ides of March would bring to Caesar. He liked power quite well himself, so no great empathy for Julius Caesar would stand in his way.
Plutarch writes that Antony was detained from entering the Senate, which indicates that Antony did not know exactly what was going to happen inside. As I have just pointed out, this is ridiculous. If Antony did not go inside, he himself did the lingering, purposefully staying outside the building until the deed was done. Furthermore, if Antony was not leading this band of murderers, it would have been to their advantage to have him inside next to Caesar and “accidentally” stabbed along with the dictator. Antony could be viewed as collateral damage, and it would make sense to kill these two powerful birds with one stone.
But, no, he was outside, “unaware,” and spared. This allowed him to be innocent of any wrongdoing in the eyes of the citizens of Rome and the Senate and, then, in this position, he could even arouse the support of the Senate to give amnesty to the supposed two main conspirators, Lepidus and Brutus. All of this was, in my analysis, a show to allow the large number of guilty parties to be civilized in the handling of the aftermath.
The plot was carried out as it had been devised and, when Caesar fell in the Senate, Antony immediately went into hiding dressed as a slave. When he was certain the men were not harming anyone else but were assembled on the Capitoline, he persuaded them to come down, taking his son as a hostage he even dined with Cassius and Lepidus with Brutus. Calling a meeting of the Senate, he recommended amnesty and the assignment of provinces to the supporters of Brutus and Cassius; the Senate ratified these measures and voted that none of the motions brought by Caesar should be changed. Antony left the Senate a most illustrious man: he was credited with averting civil war and demonstrating great discretion and diplomacy in matters that carried unusual difficulties and disturbances.4
Interesting, isn’t it, how Plutarch suddenly raises Antony’s level of astuteness after the crime; he was the easily-led stooge before the murder and now suddenly he was incredibly shrewd in handling matters afterward? Would this man who had been in Caesar’s shadow for so many years, who was highly ambitious, just allow events to take their course without ensuring that he came out on top? I hardly think so.
And it gets even more interesting. His subsequent behavior leads me to believe that Mark Antony was behind the assassination attempt and had strategically planned it out just as he would a military campaign. Look what Plutarch says Antony did next:
The mood of the public, however, quickly shook Antony from these reasoned considerations and he steadfastly hoped that, with Brutus out of the picture he might be the most powerful man. It happened that, when Caesar’s body was carried out as was the custom, Antony delivered the eulogy in the Forum. When he noticed that the crowd was incredibly moved and enthralled he added to his praises pity and outrage at what Caesar had suffered. As he ended his speech he held aloft the slain man’s tunic, bloodied and torn by the blades, and called the men responsible for these things murderers polluted by blood-guilt. The extent of his anger incited the crowd to cremate Caesar’s body in the Forum after gathering up benches and tables and then, lighting torches from the pyre, to take them to the homes of the assassins and attack them.5
I would say nothing just “happened.” Mark Antony, an excellent orator and a man who understood the people, knew exactly what their response would be, and once he settled things in the Senate, he moved on to eliminating his rivals. He was not the dupe in this; in fact, he more likely duped Brutus and Cassius, who supposedly believed they were reestablishing Rome as a republic, and then got them driven into exile once they served their purpose. In so doing, Antony now had a chance to make his mark without Julius Caesar barring his way and pushing him around. Eventually, he would be included in the New Triumvirate with Octavian and Lepidus, and it only remained a matter of time before one would win out over the others. Antony, of course, assumed he would become a member of the triumvirate, since he was the successor to Caesar in many citizens’ eyes. Lepidus was not as aggressive and strong a personality as Antony, and he didn’t have nearly the support. At the time of Caesar’s death, Lepidus posed little challenge to Antony becoming the one-and-only leader of Rome, and I am sure Antony felt he could eliminate Lepidus with relative ease at the appropriate moment in the future. As to Octavian, he was just nineteen years old at the time of Caesar’s assassination, and he probably had not impressed Antony with having enough power to be of any threat to him. Even though he was the nephew of Caesar and had spent time alongside his uncle in Rome, Octavian was unassuming in his looks, was only a minor player in recent political history, and was a known coward in battle (he would become indisposed at the very times he needed to don his armor and head out to the front line). Antony must have laughed at the thought of this wimpy excuse of a man ever challenging him for the role of dictator and, one day, emperor. Even I, as a profiler, can’t fault Antony for believing he had nothing to worry about with respect to Octavian; the boy was truly an anomaly, a surprise that suddenly appeared out of nowhere to somehow outsmart and outlast everyone.
While all this turmoil was occurring, where was Cleopatra? She had been there in Rome, ensconced in a nice villa with her son, when Caesar was assassinated. She made the wise move of getting out of town and returning to Egypt. She had no idea where the chips were going to fall, and her whole future was now in limbo, her plans turned upside down. She would wait out events in Alexandria and hope that the Romans kept busy with yet more civil war while staying far away from her country. Due to distance and disturbances in the ancient world, years could pass and fortunes could radically turn depending o
n who was killed, who was in power, and whom those in power were kept busy dealing with. Egypt had some hope that Rome would decline, and with that, power would be more evenly distributed in the region, perhaps even affording time for the Ptolemaic Dynasty to increase its strength. Had events been different, we could have read in our history books that Cleopatra lived to a ripe old age, presiding over a wealthy country free of its oppressors. Maybe she even thought that while the loss of Julius Caesar’s support was a serious blow, it might be a blessing in disguise if all the major players in Roman politics would eliminate each other in a prolonged civil war, leaving her and her beloved Egypt on their own.
Unfortunately for Cleopatra, and for Mark Antony, Octavian moved his pieces onto the political chessboard.
Who was this unexpected adversary? Let’s take a look at Octavian (later called Augustus), the man who would become emperor of Rome, to everyone’s surprise.
