“Thus a possession of power gave unlimited scope to ruthless greed, which violated and plundered everything, respecting nothing and holding nothing sacred, till finally it brought about its own downfall” (Sallust, Jugurtha, 41.5).
In order to be a great hero, one must conquer a great enemy; in order to be considered an important historian, one must tackle a truly important topic. While Sallust aggrandized the Jugurthine Wars (and indeed the Catilinarian conspiracy) in order to render his work more meaningful, we should not discount some of the truth we are able to distill from his writings. Sallust’s portrayal of the upper class senatorial nobility is a picture of greed, corruption, and deception. How much of that, however, is really Sallust’s judgment, and how much of it is simply rhetoric? Is this picture colored by Sallust’s own political leanings, or is he simply judging the Senate as a corrupt whole? These are the questions I will be attempting to address in this paper in order to ascertain how much Sallust criticized the Senate, and why.
Like all writers, Sallust puts a good deal of himself, and his own views, into his historical texts. His relationship with Caesar and the populares indicates that he was concerned with the rights of the people, but in fact he had all of the qualities that he judged as abhorrent in Catiline and Jugurtha. He was expelled from the Senate in 50BC for corruption, and was faced with another in 46 for extortion in Africa Nova, which forced him into an earlier retirement. In writing the rather lengthy introduction to The Conspiracy of Catiline, he fails to mention these accounts of corruption, smoothing his past over with a simple explanation of being lead astray. Sallust the Historian becomes, then Sallust the Editor in order to make himself a more moral judge of character in these histories. The juxtaposition of his life, and his new role as a moral judge, gives the reader an indication of the level of moralizing against corruption we will see later on. If such a good, moral person as Sallust was to be lead down the road to extortion and bribery, then ordinary men will undoubtedly be shown as even more dark and corrupt, regardless of whether they too are populares or optimates.
Sallust’s critiques of the upper class were highly influenced by other historians as well as modern philosophical thought. Despite his dislike of Greek affectation and un-Roman emotionalism, Sallust was deeply influenced by Greek culture, which played an important role in his moral judgment of the upper class. At the time Sallust was writing, the Romans controlled the entire Mediterranean. With this empire came an influx of new thoughts and ideas, particularly ancient Greek. The ancient Greek democracy was once again seen as an example for the Roman Republic, along with all of the democratic Greek ideals that went along with it. “A principle premise of ancient republicanism was that power corrupts, that no man could be trusted with it, especially not for long periods of time” (1). The Senate, the most powerful institution in Rome, would then, by this argument, be the most corrupt. That is exactly the stand that Sallust will later take; like many Romans, Sallust was influenced by the ideal republic invented by the Greeks, and as an educated body, was more aware of corruption than before. The moralizing tone Sallust takes may just be an example of this new awareness of corruption, rather than an actual increase in corruption. But either way, the portrait of the upper class, which ran the government, suffered under Sallust’s emphasis on government responsibilities and virtues.
Greek thought influenced writing and philosophy as well as political theory. Writers like Herodotus and Thucydides, among others, had long ago set the precedent for critique of the nobiles. Sallust was especially influenced by Thucydides, who had a disdain for greed and ambition, using psychological analysis to illustrate his political and moral themes. There also seems to be a good deal of Platonism infused throughout his works; the stress on mind over body, brains over brawn. The characters who come out of Sallust with the least amount of criticism are characters with Greek notions of philosophy; men like Cato, who embraced the strict dogma of Stoicism. Stoicism was notorious for its condemnation of material self-seeking, bodily pleasures, and irrationality, all things that Sallust condemns in his work. Cicero himself was deeply influenced by Stoicism, and his speeches and correspondences are the backbone of The Conspiracy of Catiline. Cicero will weigh very heavily upon Sallust’s interpretation of the Conspiracy. Catiline and Antonious pooled their resources together to try and defeat Cicero during the consular elections of 64. Cicero turned on them with a wave of allegations and bitter attacks, which make their way into Sallust’s interpretations of the events. But it is chiefly Cicero’s stoicism which causes Sallust, who was once an opponent of Cicero, to respect his judgment. Thus it becomes clear that the moral uprightness, virtu, and sense of judgment from Greek society was, at least indirectly, a major contributor to Sallust’s condemnation of the Roman Senate.
Sallust goes out of his way to portray himself as an excellent moral judge of character, even twisting his diction and syntax into archaic Latin to better achieve, at least stylistically, the role of humble Roman. This humility is important as a rhetorical device, because it makes the excesses of the Senate, in oratory and in deeds, seem pompous and un-Roman. In reality, Sallust was far from his ideal of a humble Roman farmer, and his technique and style were far more polished and Greek-influenced than his diction shows. He was actual so concerned with appearance and style that his historical accuracy suffered:
History was affected for the worse by the rhetorical art, as indeed poetry was destined also to be; Sallust, though we owe much to him, was in fact an amateur, who thought more of style and expression than truth and fact. (2)
This reliance on rhetorical style forces Sallust to conform to the idea that the nobility and the status quo are corrupt, despite any feelings he might have had. For example, in both Jugurtha and Catiline he trumps up the “Golden Age” cliché, where society was perfect, hard working, and humble, but has degenerated into something corrupt and evil. Sallust was not a literary genius; he was breaking no new stylistic ground with his histories. It would be going against the historical style if he were to portray the aristocracy as anything other than corrupt and evil. Popular rhetoric denounced enemies of the plebian classes; by this knowledge alone, we as readers must be prepared when reading Sallust that any person who fights for the people will automatically be good, and any person not on their side will be irredeemably bad.
The Golden Age interpretation does have a certain amount of validity; Sallust was not blindly following precedent, after all. After the fall of Carthage, the Senate became much more wealthy; since the Senate controlled the treasury, likewise, it became more powerful and larger. But even other writers, such as Varro, commented on the increase in corruption, writing lines like “the habit of corruption gripped the city like a plague” (3). Outside of contemporary judgment, there is a noticeable change in legislative tone, such as the law against bribery (181BC) and extravagant dinners (182BC), indicating, if anything, that there was an increased awareness of evil among the upper class. But this increase is drastically overestimated by Sallust, as is the goodness of the past. “Of course, greed for wealth and power were not vices suddenly discovered by the Romans in 146 or indeed in the second century. There is enough evidence from earlier times to suggest that the type of Roman idealized by later ages, the Curius and Cincinnatus—a fighting farmer of stern scruples, dedicated to the simple life and the work ethic—was, if not a myth, at least not totally representative” (4).
Sallust’s rhetorical tricks can occasionally cause the modern reader some confusion; it is important to keep in mind the idea that what is shocking and severe by our standards was not necessarily likewise for our Roman counterparts. Sallust may be attacking the aristocracy in what seems like a hostile manner, but in fact is just another example of rhetorical style:
It was a traditional method of hostile oratory, and sprang up from an old Roman root, the tendency to defamation and satire, which may itself be attributed in part to the Italian custom of leveling abuse at a public man (e.g. at his triumph) in order to avert evil from him. To single out a man’s personal ugliness, to calumniate his ancestry in the vilest terms, those were little more than traditional practice, oratorical devices, which the rhetorical education of the day encouraged, and which no one took very seriously. (5)
Therefore, Sallust may not have been, necessarily, unduly harsh or unduly judgmental on the Roman Senate; his criticisms were all entirely within the acceptable frame of historical writing at the time.
Assuming Sallust was only fleshing out a historical template, he would have then grouped the entire Senate together as one whole, rather than splitting them up into populares and optimates and evaluating each group separately. Roman politics, even back in the beginning of the Republic, had always been aristocratic. Regardless of whatever party they belonged to, all Senators had comparative levels of debt and wealth. Pompey, one of the greatest and most powerful populares, was easily the wealthiest man in Rome. In many cases, Sallust does just that, criticizing all upper class individuals for their corruption overtly and by example. The Jugurthine War represents, at least chronologically in his texts, the first time the arrogance of the Roman nobility was challenged. “According to Sallust’s analysis, the Jugurthine war stemmed from the cataclysmic combination of the Numidian prince Jugurtha and the Roman nobles who dominated the corrupt society that was spinning out of control in the mid-second century” (21).
Jugurtha has committed acts of war that Sallust shows in the blackest ways; we see Jugurtha massacring his brothers for the throne. He kills Adherbal, even after he has surrendered, and he slaughters foreign merchants. After we see all of this evil, Sallust presents us with the Roman Senate’s reaction. Jugurtha sends several envoys to Rome, who bribe prominent politicians, causing a drawn out and lengthy debate over what is, essentially, a worthless province. These politicians, we are meant to assume, are optimates, for they have a certain indifference to “the public good” (Jugurtha, 25.5). However, Sallust then goes on to show that after Aulus’ military failure, there was a bill passed by the populares to prosecute those guilty of taking bribes. Instigated by a popularis lieutenant under Bestia, the investigation “was conducted harshly and oppressively, on hearsay evidence, and according to the caprice of the mob. The nobles had played the tyrant often enough in the past; but now the proletariat was on top and showed itself as arrogant as they had been” (41.5). While Sallust uses the phrase proletariat, in reality the proletariat was simply manipulated by its popularis leaders, making the populares no better then their optimate brothers.
Sallust is obviously critical of the bribery and actions in the Senate during the Jugurthine War, but is his scorn really justified?
Sallust ascribed the apparent feebleness and indecision in Roman behavior down to 110 to the corruption of leading Senators by Jugurtha’s bribes. Modern scholars have argued that on the contrary, the Romans were following a rational policy: A war in Numidia was difficult and expensive; Roman interests were best served by a strong ruler friendly to Rome and any closer involvement in Numidian affairs was counter-productive; thus it was largely popular agitation, swelled by complaints of businessmen like those previously killed at Cirta, which led Rome into an unnecessary conflict. (7)
Obviously, the Senate took bribes, but it doesn’t mean that their judgment was wrong. They may have very well been accepting bribes for actions they would have taken, regardless of the money. It would have been foolish, in fact, not to accept a bribe for an action that made rational sense. The Senate was set up in such a way that bribery was almost essential to keep a Senator from catastrophic debt. The high cost of even legitimate candidacies, as well as the expectation to keep up the glory of your name with elaborate homes and dinners, was not offset with any kind of payment. Bribery was almost encouraged as a source of revenue, and was not necessarily the tool of corruption and manipulation Sallust makes it out to be.
Similar moral judgment is passed on the whole of the Senate in The Conspiracy of Catiline. While Pompey is away fighting in the east, Senators of all parties scurry around at home, backstabbing each other, trying to put themselves in a good position for Pompey’s return.
[Sallust] described the newly aggressive tribunate of the sixties as making the start of a period when the protectors of the people’s rights were as selfish and ambitious as the aristocratic ‘establishment’ which defended its own supremacy in the name of the Senate. Both sides were brutal and extreme; it was only Pompey’s absence which gave the oligarchy the tactical advantage. (8)
The tribune was supposed to be the protector of the rights of the people; it’s failure to do anything other than abuse power shows Sallust’s paints all aristocrats with the same brush.
Catiline’s own political leanings are hazy, and will be discussed later in this paper; suffice to say, however, that he is written up, at least for the greater part of The Conspiracy of Catiline, as a villain. His list of supporters reflects the level of corruption among the nobiles, both outside and inside the Senate. Included are the following:
1) Indebted property owners
2) Indebted people seeking political advancement
3) Sullan coloni who had failed to prosper
4) Corrupt peasant farmers
5) Indebted lower class
6) Criminals
7) Young and dissipated gentry
8) High level courtesans like Sempronia.
The Sullan coloni were usually optimates, since Sulla himself was incredible conservative. Sempronia and the dissipated gentry represent the non-political faction of the aristocracy. Those in debt and seeking political advancement would probably have been populares; Crassus, for example, became powerful when several equites and other indebted populares came to him for money. His control of indebted senators kept him, according to Sallust, from prosecution in the Catiline case; Cicero was shouted off the floor for even suggesting Crassus’ involvement.
In this list, however, there are several groups who were not members of the aristocracy, such as the farmers and the indebted lower class. Sallust is not implying, however, that these groups of people are corrupt; they are simply frustrated and unhappy as the result of nobiles evil. Poverty as the result of the greed of the wealthy was the accepted standard by almost all Roman historians. The poor rebelled because, by the historians view, they were so bitterly poor they were pushed to wrath and greed. The griefs of the poor were not, however, thought to excuse the troubles among their aristocratic leaders, which is why Sallust comes down so hard on them (9).
In reality, poverty and repression of the lower classes had been the result of some short-sighted policies made by the Senators. After Hannibal’s evacuation of Italy, the nobility snatched up huge chunks of land, leaving a large group of either landless laborers or tenant farmers. The great amount of domestic violence that occurred during the late republic was the symptom of the Senate’s declining legitimacy; the result of a certain failure to adapt to the changing times. The legislators, both populares and optimates, ignored the uprooted peasant solider population, were slow in granting Italian citizenship and educating the newly naturalized citizens, and fought with the equites. What reforms did come were, to a certain extent, mangled, the Italian citizenship issue being the most obvious (10). After a useless war, the Italians were given Roman citizenship, without any kind of preparation for the responsibilities citizenship entailed.
What Rome should be blamed for, if its objective was to strengthen and perpetuate republicanism, is its shortsighted policy of rashly conferring citizenship upon large numbers of slaves [and Italians] without preparing them for it. The Romans were shortsighted because their motives were wrong; in the late Republic elite ruling class Romans liberated their slaves not to enhance republicanism and liberty but to satisfy their own desires for power and reputation. (11)
These new citizens were quickly bought by politicians, further adding to the corruption and undemocratic tendencies embedded in the patron-client relationship.
Sallust obviously views the entire wealthy class as corrupt, and while he does make an effort to show that there is evil regardless of political factions, he displays a certain bias. Sallust’s personal history as a member of the populares, as well as his historical influences cause him to color his picture of the nobility; he is especially harsh on senators who ignored the will of the people.
After the restoration of the power of the tribunes in the consulship of Pompey and Crassus, this very important office was obtained by certain men whose youth intensified their natural aggressiveness. These tribunes began to rouse the mob by inveighing against the Senate, and then inflame popular passion still further by handing out bribes and promises, whereby they won renown and influence for themselves. They were strenuously opposed by most of the nobility, who posed as defenders of the Senate but were really concerned to maintain their own privileged position. (12)
(Sallust, Cat. 38.1-2)
This paragraph is particularly fascinating because it illustrates Sallust’s moralizing about the evils of the entire upper class, but is most pointed with respect to the optimates. The young tribunes are excused in their excess; they are young, and full of natural aggressiveness. And while it is true, that they won “influence for themselves,” they still are credited with involving the people in the political process. The optimates, however, simply “pose” as defenders; they have no such excuse as youth or passion, but are simply a faceless mob, “concerned to maintain their own privileged position.” This populares bias extends throughout the histories, since they represent the voice of the people. By creating friction between the populares and the optimates, Sallust is moralizing the class conflict. In his view concordia between the classes was the result of virtus and is the major reason for Rome’s rise. The optimates suppression of the lower classes, which occurs throughout much of the first half of Jugurtha, is therefore perverting the concept of virtus.
Sallust comes down hardest on the optimates in The Jugurthine War, because it was that imbroglio which caused Rome’s pride to be severely hurt on a public stage. A king from a worthless African province, fearless, shows more Roman values then the entire Senate. The optimates have been bought, the populares are do busy prosecuting them with vengeance, and the plebs wish for war is being ignored. It is only after several businessmen are slaughtered in Cirta that a tribune informs the people of the Senate’s refusal to fight Jugurtha. Such a popular outcry finally pushes the optimates into action, when they put the province under consular control. Sallust inserts another dig at towards the conservative faction when he says that, upon hearing the news that the Senate was finally taking military action, Jugurtha responds in shock. He had heard that there was ‘nothing money couldn’t accomplish in Rome.’
When war is finally declared, Rome displays a certain amount of hubris, which is by implication an optimates trait, that causes the early, and drastic, failure of Aulus. He is replaced by another optimate, Metellus. While he manages to lead the army to several victories by imposing old-fashion discipline, he lacks humility, and the war drags on because he underestimates his enemy. His arrogance causes him to spurn the ambition of a populares soldier, Marius, who returns to Rome and is elected consul.
The election of Marius to the consulship is a critical turning point in the history, because it is then that the trouble with Numidia ceases to become an elite war, instead becoming a people’s war. Sallust writes an elaborate speech that Marius ‘delivered,’ which speaks. He speaks of the traditional values of virtus, and how the nobility has corrupted it. He talks about his humble origins, and how he is elected to represent the people, rather than his own desires (85.10-48)(13). If this speech has a familiar quality about it, that is because Sallust gives a similar lecture directed towards the reader in section 41.5. Marius becomes, from his election throughout the end of the narrative, an embodiment of lost Roman values, a man railing against the corruption all against him.
Only after Marius is elected consul does the war truly change for the better, and only under Marius’ direct influence do we see Jugurtha finally defeated. It is through implication, then that Sallust shows him political bias.
Sallust is bias, but he is not blind; there are instances where he recognizes the faults of the populares as well. These points, however, are either hidden in Catiline, or they are passed over, even overshadowed, by greater populares glories. For example, in Jugurtha, when Metellus takes over the army, he is described as being immune to bribery. While in Numidia he imposes old-fashioned order and discipline, improving morale and winning several victories. He serves as an excellent contrast to the concept of a military dictator. Sallust was very critical of military leaders who, like Sulla, abused the concept of democracy. Aulus’ lack of discipline is moralized in Jugurtha as a Sullan manipulation. In other texts, Sallust criticizes Sulla, blaming the corrupt state of the army through slack discipline in order to secure loyal adherents for the civil war (14). This blame extends to Aulus and his army; it is only through old-fashioned Roman values that morality improves. However, this example of optimate virtue is overshadowed by Metellus’ obvious arrogance, as well as his inability to win the war; Marius, the popularis candidate, was the only man who was capable of a victory.
In Catiline the only redeeming portrait of an optimate we see is Cato, a known stoic and leader of the optimates throughout most of the sixties. Cato’s speech, which preaches of discipline and traditional Roman values, invokes all of the good qualities possible in conservativism. It does, however, come after a very moving speech on behalf of Caesar, asking for clemency. While its courage and determination is to be admired, readers have a knowledge of the long term effect of this decision: Cicero’s eventual exile. Because Cicero suffers from allowing an illegal act to be taken, no matter what the emergency, Cato looks rash and dangerous, in hindsight. It is also important to note that the majority of Cato’s speech criticizes his fellow optimates severely for their luxury, greed, corruption, and weakness. Although Sallust does, ultimately, make Cato out to be a hero, his rendering is tinted with anti-optimates propaganda.
Sallust juxtaposes characters in his work in order to become a more visible moral judge. In Jugurtha, Metellus and Marius are placed side by side, and the differences, as well as similarities in character becomes readily apparent. Both were able military leaders, and both were strong, moral men. Each one had, however, a tragic character flaw which keeps them from true purity. Metellus’ arrogance insults Marius; Marius retaliates by deposing him of command when Marius is elected consul. Marius, on the other hand, is ambitious, a characteristic not as well respected by ancients as it is today; he was also rash, and very impulsive. Since he was writing for an audience some 70 years after the actual Jugurthine wars, Sallust realizes that his audience would be familiar with Marius’ end:
When the Senate tried to depose him in 87, [Cinna, a populares] and Marius, now returned from exile, occupied the city. Marius was now possessed by a bloodythirsty frenzy and massacred Sulla’s supporters by the hundred, till Cinna was sickened by the carnage and turned his own troops on the cutthroats who were carrying it out….By his final acts of savagery, he had sullied a hitherto honorable record and disgraced the popular cause in the eyes of all decent men. (15)
Sallust’s respect for the populares makes him incapable of portraying Marius as anything other than a hero, despite his tragic end. But by making a point of stressing his rashness and his ambition, Sallust takes some glory away from the populares image.
The Conspiracy of Catiline is a political conspiracy among Senators, which makes the juxtapositions between characters more complicated and varied than in Jugurtha. Interestingly enough, almost all of the individual characters presented to the reader, with the exception of Cato, are populares; and yet they differ widely in their virtue, as well as their portrait. The main players include Gaius Caesar, Crassus, and Catiline, all of whom were contemporaries of Sallust. Despite the fact that the historian knew these men personally, he gives stock renders of their personalities in order to better moralize his ideas of good and evil.
Caesar is virtually untarnished; despite sources at the time that hint of his involvement in the conspiracy, Sallust leaves him out entirely, showing a profound Caesarian bias. This could have been for a number of reasons; perhaps loyalty on behalf of Sallust to a former political ally, or Caesar’s reputation as being a humanitarian and a friend to the people. Either way Sallust was influenced to think the best, and Caesar is portrayed in an extremely positive manner. His speech at the end of Catiline asks for clemency for the prisoners; this speech comes across as particularly levelheaded and wise, based on what we already know about the eventual outcome of the trial. Because he is generous, calm, and powerful, Sallust views Caesar as the best example of a populares politician, therefore giving him a stunningly pure literary picture. This proves particularly interesting, based on what the reader knows of Caesar’s character. His ambitions and wartime glory, (much like Sulla and Pompey before him) led to a rift between the triumvirs. Caesar brought his army into Italy in open defiance of the Senate after his conquest of Gaul, and Pompey was chosen to lead the defense of the state. Thus Caesar was in a similar position, later in life, to Catiline, and yet we get no hint of such trouble in Catiline. Sallust, it seems, cannot resist a bias to his old political mentor.
Crassus’ name is often thrown about in conjunction with the conspiracy, yet he is never prosecuted by the Senate. He is, by Sallust’s account, just as guilty of misconducts as Catiline, only slightly better because he was never pressed into open revolt. In reality, he was a corrupt individual, but no villain; just a man capable of political ambiguities in order to satisfy his ambition. “Crassus was not properly a popularis. Member of a hereditary nobility, as Pompey was not, fabulously rich as a result of profits from the Sullan proscriptions, corrupt, strong in clients, he was willing to use any method to carry out his designs in politics” (16). Crassus’ wealth was obtained from his alliance with a disliked conservative; his sons married into optimate families, and he got the optimates to agree to a scheme to cut down Pompey’s power. His clients were fellow Senators who borrowed from him, ensuring him a certain level of protection. Cicero, whom Sallust takes a good deal of his narration from, tried accusing Crassus of participation in the conspiracy, but was shouted off the stage by Crassus’ supporters. Sallust mentions this, but twists it into an accusation that Crassus has actually shopped for Senators. His entire tone of distrust and dislike for Crassus stems from the fact that Crassus was not really a populares. He had many equites clients, and he considered himself a populares, but in reality he often sides more with the optimates, since they were the better organized and more powerful group in the Senate. Because Crassus was not interested in helping the people, but strove for his own political gains, Sallust embeds him deeply into this scandal, despite the fact that he was, at least in name, a populares.
Catiline was, similarly, a popularis who manipulated the party in order to reach his own ends. Sallust vacillates in his characterization of Catiline, who begins the book as a black-hearted criminal who drinks blood and associates with prostitutes. The last image of him is in a final battle, dead, full of frontal wounds. It is obvious to see why Sallust portrays Catiline as evil: like Crassus, he was a ‘bad’ sort of populares, who ignored the will of the people, manipulating the assemblies, buying jurors, and even courting the optimates. For example, while running for Senate, he and his running mate Antonius (son of a consul), insisted that noble birth was a necessary qualification for a consul (17). This was, obviously, a way to keep Cicero, a new men, from gaining optimates support, but it is an example of the fact that Catiline was more interested in his own self interests than the interests of others. He failed to realize that Cicero’s remarkably oratory skill would be much more useful in the consulship, especially if Pompey was to return and some sort of mediating influence was needed. But some even go as far to say that Catiline was not a populares at all. Waters tells us that “Catiline had a reputation as a bitter enemy of the populares” (18) despite whatever protestations he made to the contrary. Even if it is true that Catiline was in fact an optimate, it would make little difference; Sallust’s portrait of Catiline has him leaning so far to the right that one has to search for any signs of popularis, which don’t really appear until his final redemption.
There is some evidence to suggest that Catiline was as corrupt as he was made him out to be; his machinations were not simply a product of Sallust’s bias. In the election against Cicero for consulship, we see evidence of the corruption to which Sallust refers us:
The election, like others in the sixties, was attended by heavy bribery, but this seems to have been undertaken chiefly in the interest of Catilina and his running mate C. Antonius, for when the senate attempted to put a stop to it obstruction came from the tribune Q. Mucius Orestinus, who was in all probability the brother of Catilina’s wife Aurelia Orestilla. (19)
It was well known that Catiline was ambitious, motivated, and deeply in debt. However, it doesn’t necessarily follow that those traits would create the corrupt anarchist Sallust gives us. Crassus had a certain amount of protection from slander, not only because of his equites clients, but also due to his relationship with Pompey. Crassus did oppose bills giving Pompey his glory, and their backgrounds were dissimilar, but there is certain evidence to show that they did have a history of collaboration. As consuls, Pompey and Crassus cooperated once to restore power to tribunes; both wanting popular goodwill and to “profit in the future from tribune legislation” (20). Waters goes on to reiterate that point: Although Catiline is written after Pompey’s days of consular glory, and after his terrible defeat in the Caesarian civil war, he still commanded a certain amount of loyalty. He was, if anything, a true populares, restoring tribune power and fighting against Caesar on behalf of the state of Rome. Crassus’ link with Pompey gives him immunity from some of Sallust’s more slanderous writings. Catiline has no such protection; although he did serve with Pompey for a period of time, “The prosecution of Catilina in 64 by Pompeius’ close friend L. Lucceuis suggests that Pompeius had by then abandoned any interest in Catilina he might have had” (21). Without that level of protection, and without any posthumous following (such as Pompey, Marius, and even Crassus had), there would be no reason why Sallust couldn’t slander Catiline as much as he chooses.
Part of Sallust’s anger comes from a source outside of the typical Greek and historical influences that characterize many of his portraitures. Sallust had a certain amount of scorn for those individuals who were more interested in revolt and personal gain than in truly helping the disadvantaged. Cato, while an optimate, was interested in what was best for Rome, not himself. Catiline, regardless of whether he was a ‘bad’ populares or an optimates, was interested in debt relief, personal gain. He bypassed the traditional path of working with the tribunes, and instead focused on plebian uprisings. Sallust felt that all leaders of pleb uprisings, or leaders who stood for pleb rights, were holding fraudulent claims—seeking personal power under honorable pretexts (22). The Platonic assertion dictates that anything other than political obedience or persuasion is immoral in a democracy; Catiline’s revolution is an example of immorality.
Catiline’s redemption as a fatal hero is poignant because it is an example where Sallust momentarily withholds his party moralizing in an attempt to show the power of the individual, and individual values. Despite the fact that violence and revolution were looked down on Platonically, it was generally accepted among ancient Romans that, assuming the purpose of a government was to promote common interest through law, any regime that failed could be legitimately resisted through violence (23). A populares, or any leader like Catiline who depends on plebian loyalty, can only be truly powerful by satisfying some sort of popular discontent. In order to rise to that level of revolutionary, the government, populares and optimates alike, must have been turning a blind eye to the issue of debt relief. Either way, Catiline’s noble end did say something powerful; despite his shortcomings, he was a Roman, and even a corrupt Roman carries certain amounts of virtus in his soul.
Much of this ambiguity concerning who is populares and who is optimates comes, unfortunately, from the fact that the two factions were amorphous, merging and shifting members everyday. Pompey, for example, was intimate with Sulla, and yet he was renown for his populares reforms of the tribunate and the courts. The populares were notoriously poorly organized, whereas the optimates was tightly knit from a series of patron-client relationships and family loyalties. Cicero, a populares, courts the optimates extensively, opposing a helpful Agrarian bill, arguing that it would hurt Pompey by infringing on his provinces (24); in reality, he was courting optimates goodwill. Even modern historians find it difficult to agree about the motives of the political factions: “Mommsen had applied Sallust’s bleak judgment on the speciousness of the values of the optimates and populares mainly to the populares and saw them as the chief aspirants to tyrannical power” (25). However, Sallust does not emphasize these ambiguities; for him, there are simply bad individuals, who are selfish, and good individuals, who fight for the people.
Sallust’s moralizing is evident when one compares his almost unredeemable story of corruption with the actual motives and climate of the day. He did, however, uncover certain amounts of truth. For a variety of reasons, both inherent in the political system and as a result of certain Senatorial policy, corruption did become worse during the Late Republic. Following precedents and influences, Sallust naturally delivers a black, evil picture of corruption among the upper class. But in many ways his picture is shaded, and is deeper than a simple case of surface moralizing. Although on many cases he recognizes evil in all nobility, he often comes down hardest on the optimates. This is the result not only of Sallust’s political leanings, which are an essential part of this bias, but also with his greater purpose as a historian. He is concerned, ultimately, with the lack of virtus; anyone attempting to ignore the will of the people or become self-seeking, therefore, lacks Roman virtue. Since the optimates were the wealthiest class, they represent extravagance and affectation. In urging his readers to return to what he perceives to be traditional Roman morality, Sallust justifies villainizing certain ostentatious members of the nobility. In the end, however, no one, except perhaps Caesar, remains unsullied by Sallust’s vitriolic criticism. But then, historical objectivity has a much smaller audience than scandal and intrigue.
Footnotes:
(1) Page 2, Wilson
(2) Page 111, Fowler
(3) Page 330, Crook, Lintott, Rawson
(4) Page 8, Crook, Lintott, Rawson
(5) Page 107, Fowler
(6) Page 21, Kraus and Woodman
(7) Page 30, Crook, Lintott, Rawson
(8) Page 30, Crook, Lintott, Rawson
(9) Page 8-9, idea came from Crook, Lintott, Rawson
(10) Page 3, idea from Wilson
(11) Page 60, Wilson
(12) Page 73, idea from Millar
(13) The Jugurthine Conspiracy, sections 85.10-48
(14) Page 9, idea came from Crook, Lintott, Rawson
(15) Page 155, Handford introduction, The Conspiracy of Catiline
(16) Page 121, Taylor
(17) Page 348, idea from Crook, Lintott, Rawson
(18) Page 207, Waters
(19) Page 62, Seager
(20) Page 24, Seager
(21) Page 61, Seager
(22) Page 9, Crook, Lintott, Rawson
(23) Page 2, Wilson
(24) Page 63, Seager
(25) Page 13, Crook, Lintott, Rawson
Bibliography:
--Sallust, The Jugurthine War/The Conspiracy of Catiline. Translation and Introduction: Handford, S.A.; Penguin Books, Harmondsworth: 1963
--Waters, K.H. “Cicero, Sallust and Catiline.” (course packet)
-- Seager, Robin. Pompey: A Political Biography. Basil Blackwell Press, Oxford: 1979
-- Adkins, Lesley and Adkins, Roy A. Handbook to Life in Ancient Rome. Facts on File, New York: 1994
--Fowler, W. Warde. Social Life at Rome in the Age of Cicero. Norwood Press, Norwood: 1909
--Abbott, Frank Frost. History and the Description of Roman Political Institutions, The Athenaeum Press, Boston: 1901
-- Taylor, Lily Ross. Party Politics in the Age of Caesar, University of California Press, Berkley and LA: 1949
-- Millar, Fergus. The Crowd in Rome in the Late Republic, University of Michigan Press, Ann Arbor: 1998
--Editors: Crook, J.A.; Lintott, Andrew; Rawson, Elizabeth. The Cambridge Ancient History: The Last Age of the Roman Republic, 146-43BC, Volume IX, 2nd Edition. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge: 1994.
--Wilson, Ronald C. Ancient Republicanism: Its Struggle for Liberty Against Corruption, Series X; Political Science Vol. 20. American University Studies, Peter Lang Publishers, New York: 1975
-- Vanderbroeck, Paul J. Popular Leadership and Collective Behavior in the Late Roman Republic (ca. 80-50BC). J.J.C. Giebon Publishers, Amsterdam: 1987
-- Kraus, C.S. and Woodman, A.J. “Latin Historians.” Greece and Rome: New Surveys in the Classics No. 27. Oxford University Press: 1997
--Scanlon, Thomas Francis. The Influence of Thucydides on Sallust, Carl Winter Universitatsverlag, Heidelberg: 1980.
