I know, I know, I am a day late on this one. This is from an unsolicited response (lucky recipient!) to a trivia tidbit sent to me about the day of the month called the Ides in Ancient Rome. Who’s up for a little light history lesson with just a dash of my world-famous denuciatory hot sauce? No shoving in line now…
Actually, Roman calendrical (is that a word?) history is all rather interesting. Their workweek was 8 days; getting one’s mind around how such a difference changes experience is the kind of thinking for which the antiquarian lives.
Until the Julian Calendar came around, the year was not 365 days, and once in awhile they would just intercalate a week or a month. However, since the Pontifex Maximus was responsible for deciding when to do it (as in many societies, Rome felt the calendar to be of a religious nature), the intercalation depended on his diligence. Many Pontifices (notably Gauis Domitius Ahenobarbus c. 90s and 80s BCE) were not interested in maintaining rigorous observation of these extra days. After all, the Roman priests and augurs were noblemen and their positions merely status symbols in what was an essentially political, state-controlled religion.
The fact that this resulted in a calendar way out of step with the seasons was a side note for powerful noblemen preoccupied with exploiting the resources of foreign provinces and large slave estates. It may have been a more significant problem for small-holding farmers trying to manage their land into prosperity, though I imagine they simply adapted, as the weak always do, to a world run by men with weapons and gold.
When G. Julius Caesar became Pontifex Maximus (a rather stunning electoral victory in a race that could have broken his career, had he lost–yes, the high priest was an elected official) things changed. Today, those who are familiar with this historical giant usually remember him as one of the West’s foremost conquerors or that baldie who said, “Et tu, Brute”. Well, the latter is in doubt (Shakespeare’s lines do have some basis, though most extant sources have him saying, “And you, my son” in Greek) and the former is certainly true.
However, Caesar’s immense intellectual energy and prowess have been relegated to the background. He was a brilliant writer and lawyer, considered only second to Cicero by both historians and contemporaries. In fact, Cicero refused, on several occasions, to oppose him in court (Cicero’s oratical and intellectual reputation was all that he had as a provincial “New Man”–to be beat by Caesar, descended from one of Rome’s oldest families, would have not only been an immense personal defeat, but would have confirmed the social prejudices of the Roman aristocracy).
Anycase, Julius’ intellect was particularly remarkable for its elegance and the compassion with which it regarded the common populace. When he was the Pontifex Maximus, he reworked the calendar, and it has come down to us with only minor changes. In this, as in other undertakings, I see him essentially as a reorganizer (or reformer, if you like). He rearranged things in such a way as to make them more efficient and useful for his own purposes and those of the world at large. In unfinished public works projects (those Ides…) and early measures to create an integrated, cohesive Roman Empire (I don’t quite mean mulitculturalism here, but it was a start) , we see a man who, while no doubt interested in his own glory, built the foundations of his legacy on the principles of universal utility. He saw the potential for a world more congenial to the human enterprise, and felt that he was just the man to do the job.
Of course, this legacy was built on mountains of blood. That’s always the case. Whether it’s Alexander or Caesar or Charlemagne or the French Revolution or the American Empire, there’s bound to be suffering and a high body count. What separates the men from the boys and the visionaries from the tyrants–all visionaries are tyrants, in my opinion, though I do not think that this formula works both ways–is a crucially important commitment to goals beyond self, beyond profit or power. It is a way of reshaping daily experience that concieves of society as tool of humankind, which always can be honed to a finer point. The small interests of small men seek only to carve out sharp, particular notches in the tip of the arrowhead, useful to none but themselves. In their pursuit of exclusively private aims, they ruin the integrity of the tool for their own short-term advantage.
Reagan lowered taxes whereas I was born in the month of July.
