Political Speeches (Oxford World's Classics)

by Cicero

  Decide, therefore, whether you should hold back from pursuing this war with all possible vigour—a war to defend the honour of your name, the safety of your allies, your most important revenues, and the fortunes of a great many citizens, fortunes inseparable from those of the state.

  [20] Now that I have spoken about the character of the war, I want to say a few words about its scale. For some people might argue that while the war is necessary and must be fought, nevertheless it is not so serious that we need be unduly alarmed by it. On this point my main concern is to prevent the possibility of your making light of matters about which you ought in fact to be taking the most careful precautions. Furthermore, I would like everyone to understand that I attribute to Lucius Lucullus all the praise that is due to a valiant soldier, a man of wisdom, and a great commander. I would therefore stress that at the time he arrived in Asia the forces of Mithridates were enormous, and equipped and supplied with everything they could possibly require; that Mithridates himself was besieging Cyzicus, the most famous city in Asia and the one most friendly to us, with a vast army, and had attacked it with terrible ferocity; and that Lucius Lucullus, by his courage, persistence, and intelligence, succeeded in liberating that city from the siege and all its attendant dangers. [21] A large and well-equipped fleet, puffed up with fanatical hatred, captained by men from Sertorius’ forces, and making for Italy at top speed, was defeated and sunk by this same commander.* Moreover, in numerous battles he destroyed vast enemy hordes, and so opened up Pontus to our legions, when previously it had been closed to the Roman people from every side. Sinope and Amisus, which contained royal residences supplied and stuffed with every kind of provision, together with a great many other cities in Pontus and Cappadocia, were taken at the very moment of his approach and arrival.* The king, stripped of the territories ruled by his father and grandfather before him, was forced to take refuge as a suppliant with other kings in other countries;* and while all these achievements were being carried out, the allies of the Roman people were kept safe and their revenues intact. I trust that this is praise enough, and I am sure you will agree, citizens, that none of those who oppose this law and course of action have praised Lucius Lucullus as highly as I have from this platform.

  [22] At this point someone may perhaps ask how, if this is how things stand, there could be much of a war left still to fight. I will tell you, citizens, since it seems a reasonable question. In the first place, Mithridates fled from his kingdom in just the same way as the famous Medea* is said to have once fled from that same kingdom of Pontus. As she was making her escape, the story goes, she scattered her brother’s limbs along the route where her father would follow her, so that he would lose time as he stopped in his pursuit to collect the scattered remains and grieve over them. Similarly, Mithridates, making his escape, left behind in Pontus the whole of his vast store of gold, silver, and treasures of every description which he had either inherited from his forefathers or else plundered from all over Asia in the earlier war* and amassed in his own kingdom. While our men were collecting all these rather too carefully, the king himself slipped through their hands. Medea’s father was held up in his pursuit by grief; but our people were held up by joy.

  [23] The terrified Mithridates took refuge with Tigranes, the king of Armenia, who comforted him in his despair, raised his shattered spirits, and rescued him from his disaster. Lucius Lucullus then entered that country with his army, whereupon still more peoples rose against our commander. Nations which the Roman people had never had any thought of attacking or provoking took fright; and there was also a damaging and strongly held belief which had taken hold among the barbarian peoples that our army had come to that region specifically for the purpose of plundering a certain extremely wealthy and much venerated temple.* As a result, many large nations were stirred up by this alarming new threat. Our own troops, despite their capture of one city from Tigranes’ kingdom* and their other successes in battle, became concerned at how far they were from home and from their loved ones. [24] At this point I will say no more; for the way it turned out was that our troops were more eager for an early return from that region than for a march deeper into it.

  Mithridates meanwhile had built up his forces once again, and in addition numerous kings and nations helped him by providing strong reinforcements from abroad. Indeed, this is what we find normally happens: kings who are in trouble have no difficulty obtaining help and sympathy from many quarters, particularly from other kings or from people who live as subjects of a king, since to them the name of king is something great and venerated.* [25] The result was that Mithridates, after his defeat, was in a position to achieve things he never dared hope for before it. He returned to his kingdom, and then, not content with merely setting foot in the land he had been driven out of and never thought he would see again, launched an attack on our renowned and victorious army. Allow me, citizens, to do at this point what poets who write about Roman history do, and pass over our disaster*—a disaster so terrible that the commander received news of it not from any survivor of the battle, but from the circulating rumour.

  [26] At this point, in the hour of disaster and at the worst setback of the war, Lucius Lucullus, who might perhaps have been capable of recovering the situation to some degree, was ordered by yourselves—since you wanted to follow tradition and set some limit to the tenure of his command—to disband those of his troops who had completed their service, and hand over the remainder to Manius Glabrio. I am passing over a great deal on purpose; but please try to supply the omission for yourselves by contemplating the significance of a war in which powerful kings join forces, nations are roused to renew hostilities, peoples not previously involved flock to the cause, and a new commander of ours is appointed after the former army’s defeat.

  [27] I think I have said enough about why the character of this war makes it necessary, and its scale dangerous. It remains, I think, to speak about the choice of a commander, and his appointment to this major undertaking. I only wish, citizens, that you had so many brave men of spotless reputation at your disposal that you would find it difficult to decide which of them you would prefer to put in charge of such a major undertaking, and such a great war! But as it is, Gnaeus Pompeius, and he alone, has by his own merit surpassed in glory not only everyone who is alive today, but also all the great figures of the past. In this case, then, is there anything that could possibly make any of you hesitate?

  [28] To my way of thinking, there are four qualities that a great commander must possess: military knowledge, ability, authority, and luck. Who, then, has there ever been who had, or potentially had, greater military knowledge than he? This is a man who went straight from school and from his childhood education to his father’s army and to military training in a major war against formidable enemies;* who at the end of his childhood served as a soldier in the army of a great commander,* and at the beginning of his youth was himself the commander of a great army;* who fought the enemy more often than anyone else has quarrelled with any personal opponent, has fought more wars than others have read about, and has carried out more commissions than others have coveted; and whose youth was trained in military knowledge not by the teaching of others but by personal experience of command, not by setbacks in war but by victories, and not by periods of service but by triumphs. In short, what type of war can there be in which the fortune of the state has not made use of him? Civil, African, Transalpine, Spanish (a war involving both citizens and exceptionally warlike tribes), slave, and naval wars,* wars and enemies different in character and locality, wars not only undertaken by this one man but also completed by him—all these demonstrate that there is no aspect of military experience which can escape the knowledge of this man.

  [29] As regards the ability of Gnaeus Pompeius, what speech could possibly do justice to it? What could anyone say that would not be unworthy of him, already known to you, or familiar to everyone? For the attributes of a great general do not consist only of those that are commonly thoug
ht of as such: dedication in one’s duties, courage in danger, thoroughness in undertaking the task in hand, speed in accomplishing it, foresight in planning—qualities that are as evident in this single man as in all the other commanders, put together, that we have ever seen or heard of. [30] Italy is witness to it—which the victorious Lucius Sulla himself conceded owed its liberation to Pompeius’ ability and the assistance he provided. Sicily is witness to it—which he rescued from the many dangers which surrounded it not by the terrors of war but by the speed of his strategy. Africa is witness to it—which had been crushed by the large enemy forces and was overflowing with their blood. Gaul is witness to it—through which, by a massacre of Gauls, a route was opened for our legions to march on to Spain. Spain is witness to it—which repeatedly saw countless enemies defeated by him and laid low. Italy again and again is witness to it—which, when it was being threatened by the terrible danger of the slave war, looked to him in his absence for help: the expectation of his arrival reduced the war and scaled it down, and his arrival itself left it dead and buried. [31] And now every shore is witness to it, every land, every people, every nation, and finally every sea—both the open seas and every inlet and harbour on every individual coast.

  Was there any place at all on any coast during those years that was either so well defended that its safety could be guaranteed or so well hidden that it would never be noticed? Who ever travelled by sea without exposing himself to the danger of being killed or enslaved—having to choose between sailing in winter or sailing when the sea was infested with pirates? Who ever thought that a war so large-scale, so humiliating, so long-standing, and so spread out and dispersed could be completed either by any number of commanders in a single year or by a single commander in any number of years? [32] Was there a single province that you* succeeded in keeping free of pirates in all those years? Was there any revenue of yours that was secure? Was there any ally that you kept safe? Did your navy protect anyone? How many islands do you imagine were abandoned, how many cities of your allies emptied by fear or captured by the pirates?*

  But why am I talking about things that happened far away? There was once a time when the Roman people used typically to conduct their wars in distant lands, and use the bulwarks of their power for the defence of their allies, not of their own homes. Do I need to point out that the seas were closed to your allies during those years, when your armies never made the crossing from Brundisium* except in the depths of winter? Do I need to bewail the fact that people sent to you from foreign countries were taken prisoner, when even envoys of the Roman people were ransomed? Do I need to point out that the sea was not safe for merchants, when twelve axes* fell into the hands of the pirates? [33] Do I need to mention the famous cities of Cnidus, Colophon, or Samos, or the countless others that were captured, when you are well aware that your own ports—those ports through which you draw life and breath—have been in the hands of the pirates? Can you be unaware that the busy port of Caieta, when it was full of ships, was sacked by the pirates under the eyes of the praetor, while the children of a man who had previously fought a war against the pirates were kidnapped by pirates at Misenum?* Why should I bewail that setback at Ostia* which brought shame and disgrace on our country, when virtually under your very eyes a fleet actually commanded by a consul of the Roman people was captured and sunk by the pirates?

  Immortal gods! Is it really possible that the astonishing, superhuman ability of a single mortal man has brought such a beacon of light to our country, and in so short a time, that you, who only recently looked out on an enemy fleet at the mouth of the Tiber, now hear that there is not a single pirate ship within the mouth of Ocean?* [34] You have seen for yourselves the speed with which he achieved this; even so, I should not omit to mention it. For who in their eagerness for doing business or making money ever managed to visit so many places or complete so many long journeys in as short a time and as rapidly as, under Gnaeus Pompeius’ leadership, that unstoppable force of war sailed across the seas? Although it was not yet the season for navigation, he nevertheless went to Sicily, reconnoitred Africa, and took his fleet to Sardinia, and, by means of strong garrisons and fleets, secured those three bread baskets for Rome. [35] Next, after strengthening the two Spains and Transalpine Gaul with garrisons and ships and sending further ships to the coast of Illyricum and to Achaea and the whole of Greece, he returned to Italy and fortified the seas on either side with the largest fleets and the strongest garrisons; and after that, on the forty-ninth day after his departure from Brundisium, he personally added the whole of Cilicia to the empire of the Roman people. All pirates, wherever they were, were either taken prisoner and executed or else surrendered to his—and only to his—power and authority. When he was in Pamphylia, people from as far away as Crete* sent envoys to him to ask for mercy: he did not deny them the chance of surrendering, but demanded hostages from them. And so this war, so vast, so longstanding, so widely dispersed, unleashed against all peoples and nations, was planned by Gnaeus Pompeius at the end of winter, begun at the beginning of spring, and completed by midsummer.*

  [36] Such is his astonishing, superhuman ability as a commander. But to turn to his other qualities, which I began to discuss a few moments ago, how great and how numerous they are! In an ideal, perfect commander, we should not look only for military abilities: there are many other excellent qualities which support and go with them. In the first place, what integrity commanders should have; then what moderation in everything they do, what good faith, what graciousness, what intelligence, what humanity! So let us briefly look at these qualities as they are found in Gnaeus Pompeius.

  He possesses them all, citizens, to the highest degree possible—but they can be recognized and understood more from a comparison with others* than by being viewed on their own. [37] For what commander can count as a commander at all when centurions’ commissions in his army are and have been sold? What noble, patriotic ideals can we suppose are held by someone who has been so eager to hold on to his command that he has divided out among the holders of public office funds allotted to him by the treasury for fighting the war, or so greedy that he has lent out these funds at interest at Rome? I can tell from your muttering, citizens, that you know who the men are who have done these things. For my part, I am naming no one—so no one can be angry with me without admitting that he is one of those I am referring to. But is there anyone who does not know that this greed on the generals’ part has caused our armies to spread utter devastation wherever they go? [38] Just think of the tours which our commanders have made in Italy in recent years, through the countryside and the Roman citizen communities, and you will easily be able to infer how they act among foreigners. In recent years, do you think that more enemy cities have been destroyed by the arms of your soldiers, or allied states by their obligation to quarter them during the winter? No commander can control an army if he is not also capable of controlling himself; nor can he be strict in passing judgement if he is not willing to submit to the strict judgement of others. [39] It is said that, once his legions had arrived in Asia, no one who submitted to Gnaeus Pompeius was harmed by the hand, or even the footstep, of a single soldier in his whole army. Can we be surprised, then, that he surpasses all other commanders so completely? As for the way in which his soldiers behave in winter quarters, verbal and written reports reach us every day to the effect that not only is no one forced to spend money on the troops, but no one is allowed to even if he wants to. For our ancestors intended that the houses of our friends and allies should serve as a shelter from the winter weather, not as a shelter for greed.

  [40] But think how much moderation he shows in other matters too. From where do you think he got his extraordinary rapidity, his astonishing speed in travelling? It was not because his rowers were unusually strong or because of any hitherto undiscovered method of navigation or any new winds that he reached the most distant places as quickly as he did, but rather because he was not held back by the things that hold other commanders ba
ck. Greed did not deflect him from his chosen course and cause him to chase after plunder, nor did passion cause him to seek pleasure, or beautiful surroundings luxury, or famous places sight-seeing, or indeed work rest; and as for the statues, paintings, and other works of art which are found in Greek cities and which other commanders think are theirs for the taking,* he did not even consider them worth going to see. [41] The result is that everyone in those places now regards Gnaeus Pompeius not as having been sent out from Rome, but as having come down from heaven. Now at last they have started to accept that there did once exist Romans who possessed the self-control that he does—something which foreign peoples had begun to suppose impossible, a myth without foundation. Now the splendour of your empire is beginning to shed its light on those peoples as well. Now they have come to understand that it was not for no reason, when we had magistrates of Gnaeus Pompeius’ moderation, that their ancestors preferred to be subjects of the Roman people than to rule others themselves.

  Again, it is said that he makes himself so freely available to private citizens, and allows them such liberty to complain of the wrongs done to them by others, that although his standing is higher than that of princes, in his accessibility he seems on a par with the humblest in society. [42] His wisdom, too, and the authority and eloquence of his oratory—which is an element of the authority of a commander—you, citizens, have frequently had occasion to observe in this very place. As for his good faith, what store do you think our allies set by it when all our enemies, of every race, have judged it inviolable? And such is his humanity that it would be difficult to say which was greater—the enemy’s fear of his valour while they were fighting him or their gratitude for his mercy once they had been defeated. So will anyone hesitate to entrust this great war to him—a man who seems destined by some divine intelligence for the purpose of terminating all the wars of our time?