CHAPTER FOUR SERVING THE TIMES: CICERO AND CAESAR THE DICTATOR Jon Hall In 46 Julius Caesar secured for himself the post of dictator of Rome for ten years.1 He was now in effect the sole ruler of the state, having recently defeated Pompey at Pharsalia. Pockets of armed resistance still remained in Africa and Spain, but these would be vanquished in the coming months (most notably at the battles of Thapsus and Munda). Caesar’s assump- tion of sole power overturned the traditional framework of political rela- tionships within the Roman aristocracy. Ambitious aristocrats such as Cicero had been raised on the republican ideal of the independent and autonomous senator, free to speak his mind in the senate and law courts. Under Caesar’s dictatorship, however, signifi cant activities in the law courts were suspended and, as we shall see, debate in the senate too operated under rather different conditions.2 As I hope to show in the following discussion, the challenges that confronted Cicero under Caesar’s autoc- racy provide some instructive parallels to the dilemmas faced by poets and politicians in the following decades; he now had to fi nd rather different ways of writing (or pleading) politics under this new regime. At the start of 46 Cicero found himself in an awkwardly submissive position. Having (belatedly) decided to support Pompey in the civil war, he was now residing in Rome in relative safety thanks only to Caesar’s generous show of clemency.3 It seems clear enough that he was not at 1 Cass. Dio 43.14. By February 44 he had been given the title dictator perpetuo (Cic. Phil. 2.87); see also Yavetz (1983) 38–45. In the following discussion, all ancient refer- ences are from Cicero unless stated otherwise; all dates are bce unless indicated. 2 For changed conditions in the courts, see Att. 12.21.5 (SB 260), 13.20.4 (SB 328); Orat. 148. (The abbreviation SB refers to the number assigned to each letter in the commentaries and texts of D. R. Shackleton Bailey.) As Rawson (1983) 208 notes, the membership of the senate had changed signifi cantly from that of just fi ve or so years earlier: many of the leading fi gures in late republican politics, including Pompey, Cato, Bibulus, Appius Claudius, Domitius Ahenobarbus, Curio, Milo, and Publius Clodius, were now dead. Moreover, Caesar in the coming months was to enrol a number of new members into the senate (Suet. Iul. 41.1). 3 See, e.g., Att. 11.7 (SB 218) for some of the awkward problems involved in Cicero’s return to Italy. Many other Pompeians were still in exile, awaiting Caesar’s permis- sion to return. 90 jon hall this time psychologically prepared for serious confrontation with the dictator. He had experienced political exile in 58–57 and knew at fi rst hand how unglamorous and unpleasant it could be. Over the next two years or so, however, his attitude towards Caesar’s rule would change according to mood and circumstance. In mid- to late-September, for example, he seems to have been keen to encourage and abet Caesar’s policy of clementia towards Pompey’s supporters. In later months, how- ever, we fi nd signs of a growing disillusion. On still other occasions, he appears resigned to a life of political compromise.4 Throughout this period, however, there was one constant: his belief that Caesar’s autocracy was ethically wrong. But how forcefully or explicitly he could express this dissatisfaction was a diffi cult matter to judge. Freedom of Speech from 46 to 44 It is clear from Cicero’s correspondence that Caesar’s dictatorship signifi cantly curtailed freedom of expression in Rome. The point is conveyed most strikingly perhaps in a letter to Cicero from Aulus Caecina (Fam. 6.7 [SB 237]), written in late 46 (or possibly early 45). Caecina was at this time in Sicily waiting for permission from Caesar to return to Rome.5 He had fought against Caesar in the civil war, and although Caesar had spared his life after the battle of Thapsus (Caes. B Afr. 89), the pair were still not fully reconciled. Indeed, Caecina in his letter describes some of the diffi culties that confronted him in com- posing a recent volume that he has just sent to Cicero, in particular his need to take into consideration Caesar’s possible reaction to what he was writing: quem putas animum esse ubi secum loquitur? “hoc probabit, hoc uerbum suspiciosum est. quid si hoc muto? at uereor ne peius sit.” age uero, laudo aliquem: num offendo? cum porro reprehendam, quid si non uult? (Fam. 6.7.4 [SB 237]) What do you think my state of mind is when I say to myself: “He’ll approve of that. But this word may cause suspicion. What if I change it? But I’m afraid this may make matters even worse.” Now then, I praise so-and-so: am I giving offence? Again, when I criticize, what if he doesn’t like it? 6 4 See Cipriani (1977) 113–25 and Winterbottom (2002) 24–38 for useful discussions. 5 See Fam. 6.5 (SB 239), 6.6 (SB 234), 6.8 (SB 235) for Cicero’s attempts to work for Caecina’s recall. 6 Translations of extracts from Cicero’s letters are by D. R. Shackleton Bailey (SB), with some minor alterations. Translations of other passages are my own..