Julius Caesar was no aspiring autocrat seeking to realize the imperial future but an unusually successful republican leader who was measured against the Republic's traditions and its greatest heroes of the past. Catastrophe befell Rome not because Caesar (or anyone else) turned against the Republic, its norms and institutions, but because Caesar's extraordinary success mobilized a determined opposition which ultimately preferred to precipitate civil war rather than accept its political defeat. Based on painstaking re-analysis of the ancient sources in the light of recent advances in our understanding of the participatory role of the People in the republican political system, a strong emphasis on agents' choices rather than structural causation, and profound scepticism toward the facile determinism that often substitutes for historical explanation, this book offers a radical reinterpretation of a figure of profound historical importance who stands at the turning point of Roman history from Republic to Empire.
Julius Caesar’s name is one that is known to people today for many reasons, not the least of which is for his association with the fall of the Roman Republic. Having vanquished his political foes, he enjoyed an uncontestable dominance over Roman politics, leading an eclectic group of opponents to assassinate him in 44 BCE. In the struggle that followed, the Republic was replaced by a new structure dominated by an emperor, a position that was modeled after the one Caesar had constructed for himself, which helped accentuate his perceived role in the downfall of the old political system.
Because of this, Caesar enjoys an outsized responsibility for the fall of an ailing oligarchic political system that was no longer serving the needs of the Roman people. Yet as Robert Morstein-Marx notes in his introduction, this view rests on a pair of flawed assumptions about both the traditional Roman political order and Caesar’s role in its demise. In this book, Morstein-Marx meticulously challenges both of these assumptions by reexamining the events of Caesar’s life using two premises: that the republican political system was not an “oligarchy” but a functioning participatory process, and that Caesar’s responsibility for its demise is based on a teleologically-driven misreading of both his career and the goals he was pursuing when he was murdered. From these he builds his case that Caesar did not break the Roman political system, but operated within its (strained) political parameters right up to his death.
Morstein-Marx divides his reassessment of Caesar’s life into two parts. The first and shorter of these reviews Caesar’s public career prior to the outbreak of the Civil War of 49-45 BC. These years, he argues, are often presented in a way designed to foreshadow the events of the final period of his life. Here the writings of Cicero play a prominent role, thanks to their status as one of the few surviving sources from the period. As Morstein-Marx notes, Cicero was far from a disinterested observer, and often interpreted Caesar’s actions from a hostile perspective. His works, as well as those of such prominent figures as Cato and Bibulus, provided a formidable din of criticism of Caesar’s policies and actions, yet the eloquence of these attacks often obscures the fact that Caesar’s positions were popular with the majority of Romans, who greeted his measures with acclaim.
Caesar continued to enjoy broad popularity even during his extended deployment in Gaul. Here Morstein-Marx downplays the role often attributed to his famous Commentarii in maintaining his public reputation, arguing that they were written more with the goal of burnishing his historical reputation than in winning over the Roman people. His victories in themselves were enough to maintain his public standing, which made him a formidable political figure even at a distance. The efforts by Caesar’s enemies to deal with this and the events that follow form the second and much larger part of Morstein-Marx’s book, as he examines the crises that dominated the final years of Caesar’s life and his response to them. In doing so, Morstein-Marx disproves the adage about history being written by the victors, as reveals the degree to which Caesar’s actions were subsequently interpreted in ways to justify his assassination.
Nothing better demonstrates this than the significance ascribed to Caesar’s crossing of the Rubicon. Morstein-Marx notes that its iconic status was a product of posthumous exaggeration, with the very notion of its supposed illegality coming not from Roman law but from Lucan’s Pharsalia, which was written a century later. Instead, it was the end of negotiations between the two sides and Pompey’s flight which triggered hostilities between the two sides. Caesar’s lenient treatment of his opponents after defeating them was also turned against him, as efforts towards reconciliation were later portrayed as attempts to humiliate his former enemies. As Morstein-Marx makes clear, all of this was necessary to justify the actions of the assassins: characterizing his murder as a tyrannicide required them to make Caesar into a tyrant, even if it meant distorting or ignoring his continuing use of republican institutions even after he claimed the mantle of dictator.
Morstein-Marx’s book poses an effective challenge to many of the assumptions and misconceptions that have accrued around the story of Julius Caesar’s career. Though not a biography, it thoroughly addresses many of the major events of his life that have come to define his historical reputation. Firmly rooted in both the classical sources and the modern scholarship on the era, it’s an impressive work of scholarship that makes a persuasive case for reevaluating Caesar and his relationship to the republic. Though he may not have been a “man of the people,” Morstein-Marx demonstrates that Caesar certainly respected them enough to work within the norms and traditions of his time, even if he was among the last to do so.
My credentials: I have a Master Degree in History and have studied ancient Rome most of my life, including primary sources.
Morstein-Marx's book is one of the most fascinating and intriguing books I have read about Gaius Julius Caesar and the end of the Roman Republic. He thoroughly examines numerous sources to answer a "simple" question: did Caesar destroy the Republic?
By stepping through each year of Caesar's life, the author clearly shows that the overwhelming majority of the information we have from ancient sources approached the history of Caesar from a teleological standpoint, i.e., they assumed Caesar wanted to be king (rex) from the beginning; therefore, everything he said and did were viewed through this lens. In addition, they wrote long after the events they describe.
If, instead, one reviews Caesar's actions without assuming a nefarious objective, it quickly becomes clear that his actions were more "Republican" than those of his critics. Caesar repeatedly tried to work within the system, honored the "mos maiorum," and only broke from it at the end when he was hurriedly preparing for the Parthian campaign. Morstein-Marx indisputedly demonstrates that it was Cato and his followers who repeatedly broke the rules of governance out of spite and hatred for Caesar. They attempted to void laws that benefited the people (and that the people loved) simply because Caesar created them. They were so determined to destroy Caesar and claim absolute authority for the Senate that they picked civil war over reconciliation even though Caesar offered such over and over again. The motto of Rome was SPQR: Senatus PopulusQue Romanus, the Senate and the People of Rome. However, the Cato faction completely disregarded the "People" portion and only cared about their absolute power regardless of the cost.
The book is extremely detailed, has Latin and Greek quotes (most without translation), and assumes a good grasp of Roman history. I do not recommend the work for the casual historian since it is highly academic in nature; however, I do highly recommend it for those interested in a more thorough examination of Caesar and the end of the Roman Republic.
An insightful academic work re-evaluating Julius Caesar's role as central protagonist of the Fall of the Roman Republic, and arguing for a reading of Caesar as being far more Rome's last great Republican figures than its first great Imperial one.
Morstein-Marx establishes two central threads in his thesis - the first a summation of recent scholarship, the second primarily of his own making. The first is a recasting of the Roman Republic's political structure, where the People are as central to the functioning of the SPQR as the Senate, if not more so. Far from being an apolitical mob, rioting against the rule of law, fawning over tyrants and supporting only those causes which advance their material interests, the People are presented as an active and politicised group, holding a range of viewpoints, but always conscious of their civil rights and their role as the true sovereign body of the Republic. The People, ultimately, voted on the laws, elected the magistrates, and awarded honours to those politicians whose dignitas and service to the Republic made them deserving of reward and recognition. Actively aware of this role, their interventions in Republican politics must be recast as part of the proper functioning of the state, rather than signs of anarchic democracy or mob rule. Such interventions were made to defend their rights and oppose Senatorial policies they felt to be counter to Roman interests far more than for simple material greed or resentment of authority.
Morstein-Marx's novel contribution is that in this new paradigm, Julius Caesar's career, so often weighed down with the knowledge of its eventual conclusion and the Principate that followed, must be examined instead in the Republican context as it played out, giving equal weight to both Popular and Senatorial views of Republican legitimacy. In this new light, shorn as much as possible of hindsight and the attempts of ancient sources to look for the signs of later events in the early phase of his career, Caesar transforms fundamentally, from a populist demagogue who pushes against Roman political norms to reorganise the state into a form that satisfies his craving for autocratic power, into a typical great figure of the Republic, with both reformist tendencies and a healthy respect for aristocratic and senatorial norms, who finds his career opposed by a conservative bloc willing to disregard Republican norms and the will of the sovereign People and establish a novel, Senate-dominated order. Their use of previously-unthinkable tactics, his equally forceful responses, and the death spiral of trust which led finally to civil war, perpetual dictatoriship, and bloody assassination, are then the throughline of this work.
Certainly an academic text, this should not be regarded as a introductory work; the outline of the careers of Caesar, Pompey, Crassus, Cicero, and Cato, and a broad familiarity with the structure, functioning, and history of the Late Republic are all assumed knowledge. Nor is the language particularly accommodating, either the English or the frequent untranslated passages of Latin, especially in the footnotes. Other major works in the field are very often cited and discussed without explicit introduction, and must instead be understood by the context of the discussion.
All that considered, this work is nonetheless excellent at what it sets out to do: reframing Caesar in the context in which he lived and acted, resisting as much as possible the attempts of ancient sources to find an explanation for events in the fundamental character of their actors, and the tendency of earlier modern historians to take these ancient sources, especially senatorial, reactionary, and aristocratic viewpoints, as defining what was and was not "Republican". By this effort, Caesar ceases to be a larger than life figure carving an irresistable path through history, and becomes a human actor and a product of his own time. A superb effort.
In the popular imagination, if there is one, about the fall of the Roman Republic, Julius Caesar is more likely than not the villain, and Marcus Cato a principal hero. This myth has waxed and waned. During the American Revolution, for example, Addison's Cato was a popular play and enjoyed by none other than General Washington himself.
This book is an important corrective. Its central argument was Julius Caesar was, for most of his career, a highly traditional Roman noble, seeking political honor and military glory within the constraints of mos maiorum, by climbing the cursus honorum and extending the power of the republic on campaign. In return for serving the Roman people, he desired nothing more and less than the standard coin of the Roman aristocracy: gloria in the form of triumphs and offices. It was the misfortune of him and the Roman people that his career overlapped with Cato (and some others), a preening, moralistic obstructionist, who posed as a conservative while actually pushing the limits of constitutional norms. (The reader is irresistibly reminded of Ted Cruz and Rand Paul here.) In Morstein-Marx's argument, the aggressor is the Senate, and it is Caesar (and the Roman people) who were compelled to arms to defend their traditional liberties (which includes the liberty of the people to award Caesar a well deserved triumph and second consulship).
Morstein-Marx must be a follower of Powell Doctrine, for he spares no efforts in assembling a vast body of evidence. Some arguments are compelling, such as his takedown of the traditional view that Caesar was motivated by a fear of prosecution if he prematurely surrendered his imperium. Other claims are more of a stretch, such as, in one place, when the author tries to draw a meaningful distinction between Caesar emptying the treasury vs. a subordinate doing so.
More frustrating than any particular weak argument, Morstein-Marx seems to alternate freely between citing an author (e.g., Cassius Dio) when the evidence is helpful vs. criticizing the source's reliability because another part of the source material is anti-Caesarian. The reader is left wondering at times if the author is being even-handed with the evidence. It should be noted, however, that the author does not absolve Caesar of all responsibility for the tragedy. We do wonder "what if" if Caesar had decided to run for office 50 instead of waiting yet another year (thereby prolonging the political crisis). And Morstein-Marx does admit that Caesar made some serious political miscalculations in 45/44. Overall, however, the book lays the principal blame for the death of the Roman republic at the feet of Cato and the other obstructionist senators. This is a welcome intervention.
Some readers may also be irritated by the length of the book. Not this one. This book is not trying to be Ronald Syme's The Roman Revolution, which does in 16 pages what Morstein-Marx argues in 616. The two books complement each other. In lieu of immortal, lapidary sentences, the reader will be rewarded with tireless, forensic examination of the evidence.
Ultimately, this book works for me because it respects the role of contingency and gives credit to the agency of individual actors and also the Roman people. The Caesarian Civil War didn't have to happen when it did. Cato didn't have to be such an asshole. Caesar could have made different choices. Pompey could have been ... less Pompey. But that is exactly why the fall of the Roman republic is such a tragedy as well as a lesson for our time and all time.
An excellent read for anyone who wants a deeper understanding and new perspective of Roman history. This book assumes you know the basic story of who Caesar was and what he's famous for, then deconstructs that story piece by piece. Turns out, what the ancient sources say about Caesar doesn't always line up with other evidence we have about that era. You'll learn a lot about critical thinking and analyzing sources.
But this book is just as much about the Roman people as it is about Caesar himself. Morstein-Marx smashes the old, classist view of the "fickle mob" easily swayed by demagogues, and the apathetic masses who only cared for "bread and circuses." He shows how they played a critical role in government, that they had opinions and agendas of their own, and those opinions mattered. In this light, many of the political crises of Caesar's time take on a whole new meaning. Morstein-Marx also avoids oversimplifying politics into "optimates vs. populares," or "Senate vs. People." Nor does he attempt to project modern values or political theory onto ancient figures.
Put together, these themes create a book that made me look at Caesar and his contemporaries in a whole new way. Morstein-Marx doesn't lionize Caesar or excuse his misdeeds. Nor does he present a tyrant or visionary. Instead, he shows us an ordinary (if very capable) man making understandable choices in a messy, dangerous political environment.
Also: I love how extensively researched this book is. Morstein-Marx cites his sources constantly. You can look up the exact passages in Plutarch, Cicero, etc. and decide for yourself whether you agree or disagree with his inferences, and he even points you toward historians that do disagree.
Every 10 or so years, the classics have a shake-up and there is some new paradigm that reimagines the past. While this is certainly in part due to classics professors needing to maintain employment, it also reflects our changing attitudes about the past and more complex tools for its interpretation. This book is one of those reinterpretations.
Robert masterfully avoids the pitfalls of traditional biography and offers more of a reverse polemic. The effort here isn’t to provide the reader with a full accounting of Caesar’s actions but rather to provide a defense of Caesar from the traditional narrative. It also does wonders by recontextualising the decisions taken by each actor, critiquing sources, and reframing how we should think about the fall of the res publica. Given the aims of this book, I would certainly not recommend this to a first-time reader of the period. The power of this book relies on the reader’s foreknowledge, as it regularly skips over events and general period trivia. Real Romaboos (ie Republic NOT Empire) will have a field day here.
The work contends that Caesar is treated much too harshly both by our sources and our modern reinterpretations. This is well argued, with every chapter building on the last. The prose is occasionally clunky but generally effective; your mileage may vary. One of the best books on Rome I’ve ever read- couldn’t recommend more.