“For legal equality — the object of free peoples — cannot be preserved: the people themselves, no matter how uncontrolled they may be, give great rewards to many individuals, and they pay great attention to the selection of men and honours. And what people call equality is in fact very unfair. When the same degree of honour is given to the best and the worst (and such must exist in any population), then equity itself is highly inequitable. But that is something that cannot happen in states that are ruled by the best citizens.” (1.53)
There are two kinds of obligations with which we are concerned here: legal and moral obligation. Both are important in the context of the polis. Legal obligation is concerned with the observance of the law, broadly understood, in both letter and in spirit. Moral obligation, which we shall refer to as ‘duty,’ relates to broader questions of right and wrong and with hierarchy in general. Legal obligation is important, especially when the polis is ruled in accordance with a series of non-arbitrary rules, codified into laws, which are sovereign over the polis. Both these forms of obligation, in the context of the polis, find their articulation in Marcus Tullius Cicero’s treatise, On The Commonwealth.
Bust of Marcus Tullius Cicero, Capitoline Museums, 1st Century AD, Roman.
One of Leo Strauss’ most controversial revelations — revelations insofar as they rely on a rather imaginative reading of the texts they rely upon — is his ‘discovery’ of ‘esoteric writing,’ which has been applied by all and sundry, without discrimination or context, as a suitable methodological framework. It is my contention here that the biggest challenge to Strauss’ concept of esoteric writing can be found in the works of Cicero, particularly in his dialogues De Republica and De Legibus.1
Cesare Maracci, Cicerone denuncia Catalina, 1882–88. Mural in the Salone d’Onore, Palazzo Madama, Rome.
[All translations from Loeb Classical Library editions unless specified.]
For a blog whose name is borrowed from Cicero, it is only fitting that its first entry be dedicated to the memory of Marcus Tullius Cicero, and to the phrase in particular that was trotted out in exasperation and incredulity at those who commit wanton sedition. The instance I want to focus on is the Catiline conspiracy, one of the rare occasions where Cicero was prosecuting and not part of the defence. 1 Lucius Sergius Catilina, whose sympathies lay with the populares, was actively seditious; Mary Beard describes him as “a disgruntled, bankrupt aristocrat and the architect of a plot … to assassinate Rome’s elected officials and burn the place down.” 2 Cicero, as consul, ordered the arrest of Catiline, and then his summary execution — without a trial — on those fateful days in 64 B.C. In In Catilinam (hereinafter IC), he forcefully argues against sedition — sedition prompted by Catiline’s disregard for property rights, as shown by his proposal to forgive debts of both the rich and the poor if he did succeed in his rebellion.
“Throughout his career Cicero usually represented the defence; this was one of the rare occasions when he prosecuted.” Anthony Everitt, Cicero: The Life and Times of Rome’s Greatest Politician (New York: Random House Trade Paperbacks, 2003), 77. ↩
Mary Beard, SPQR: A History of Ancient Rome (London: Profile Books, 2016), 21. ↩
