Chapter 56: Rome’s Contradictions
Chapter 56: Rome’s Contradictions
Roman society might appear rational at first glance, but it concealed deep contradictions. These issues didn’t arise overnight; over centuries, the system’s flaws accumulated. Some problems were addressed, but many remained unresolved, slowly undermining society.
These contradictions included minor issues, like lawyers laundering money through art, and major ones, such as the growing reliance on slaves. Conflicts also arose between small farmers and nobles over land distribution, and the inefficiencies of a Senate-centered government struggling to manage a vast territory.
The most pressing issue in 63 BC revolved around the electoral system. Elected officials in Rome, despite holding honorable positions, did not receive salaries. Candidates for offices such as quaestor, aedile, praetor, and consul needed substantial funds. The electoral process was largely driven by money, and those without immense wealth had to borrow funds. Even once elected, officials did not receive a salary, leading many to accept bribes to settle their debts. As a result, governors often resorted to harsh measures to collect the necessary funds.
The situation was somewhat better in the wealthy East, but those sent to regions like Gaul or Africa struggled to amass enough money to pay off their debts. The Verres trial had also made it more difficult for governors to plunder, as provincials increasingly sought justice.
Lucius Sergius Catilina was a notable example of a nobleman suffering under this flawed system. Known in history for causing significant trouble, he was a product of Rome’s contradictions.
“I understand you need funds for your consul election, but this doesn’t seem like the best place to discuss it. Can we move somewhere else?” Marcus suggested.
“Y-yes,” Catilina stammered.
Marcus decided to postpone his congratulations to Caesar until the next day, as the crowd was too large for a proper conversation. After obtaining Julia’s permission, he led Catilina to his mansion.
Danae, who managed the lending business, provided some background information on Catilina. Nervous, Catilina remained silent while Danae and Julia waited for Marcus to speak. The only sound in the spacious reception room was Marcus unrolling the scroll.
“You already have considerable debt,” Marcus remarked casually.
Catilina’s body stiffened as he heard this. He set down his wine glass and sighed deeply.
“Yeah… I do have a lot of debt.”
The debt Catilina had accumulated was substantial, far beyond what could be described as merely significant. While many Roman politicians were deeply in debt, Catilina and Caesar were among the most notable for their financial troubles. However, unlike Caesar, Catilina did not lead a lavish lifestyle. Though his family was once a prestigious noble house known for producing consuls, it had fallen on hard times.
As a result, Catilina had no choice but to rely on debt for his political campaigns. Despite being elected as praetor, he was unable to repay his debts due to his assignment in Africa.
“You’ve lost two consecutive consul elections, and your debt has become overwhelming. The first loss was somewhat unjust, as you were disqualified after being tried for abuse of power in the province,” Marcus noted.
“I was acquitted of those charges,” Catilina replied.
“The second election saw you come in third place. It’s clear you’re determined to win this time,” Marcus continued.
“Yes, I need your help. If I become consul, I’ll have a better opportunity to manage the eastern provinces and repay you,” Catilina pleaded, desperation evident in his voice. He was unable to campaign without funds and was anxious due to the difficulty of securing a loan.
However, part of the reason he struggled to borrow money was his own fault.
Marcus addressed the core issue: “But even if you become consul, how can I be sure you’ll repay the loan?”
“…What do you mean? Of course, I will repay you if I become consul,” Catilina responded, puzzled.
“The ability to repay debt is less important than the intent. Your previous promise illustrates this,” Marcus said.
“That was just a promise made during a campaign,” Catilina argued. “You say anything during an election.”
“I understand, but your promises carry weight. Those who support you in your debt-ridden state do so out of desperation, similar to your own. If you get elected and then ignore them, riots are likely to ensue, ending your political career.”
Catilina’s composure finally broke. His eyes reflected the frustration of someone trapped in a hopeless situation. People in such dire straits often lose their calm, and Catilina was no exception. Caesar, who could seek more money despite enormous debts, was the anomaly.
Catilina's voice, laced with unacknowledged resentment, revealed his frustration: “So you won’t lend me the money?”
“That’s not what I meant. I need you to sign a contract stating that you will prioritize repaying me if you’re elected as consul,” Marcus clarified.
“That’s only fair. I’ll draft it right now, promising to repay you first with the funds I borrow,” Catilina agreed.
“Good. Let’s proceed with the contract,” Marcus said.
Marcus smiled and handed Catilina a piece of paper. Julia and Danae looked on in surprise at his willingness to lend the money.
Catilina, astonished, asked, “Are you really going to lend me the election funds just like that?”
“Yes,” Marcus replied. “But please keep it confidential that I am the one lending you the money. There are many in the Senate who would like to see you fail in this election.”
“Of course. I would never do anything to harm you. I am a nobleman who values honor. I wouldn’t betray my benefactor,” Catilina assured him.
Calling Marcus his benefactor was no exaggeration. While creditors had been verbally aggressive with Catilina, they were still hopeful about his chances of being elected. If they believed his political career was finished, they would immediately pursue forced collection.
This election was crucial for Catilina. Winning would provide him some breathing room and silence the creditors, at least temporarily. Conversely, another defeat would spell a bleak future for him. For a struggling nobleman, running for office was a high-stakes gamble.
Catilina left the reception room in a hurry, eager to strategize now that he had the funds to campaign. He thanked Marcus multiple times before departing.
Julia watched Marcus with curiosity. Her face showed confusion as she asked, “Marcus, are you really going to lend him money?”
“I’ve drawn up the contract, so of course, I’ll lend it to him,” Marcus said.
“I understand you must have a plan, but…” Julia trailed off, still puzzled.
Danae, who was involved in the lending business and had researched all the notable debtors in Rome, also looked uncertain. “Do you think Catilina has the ability to repay his debt?”
Danae reviewed Catilina’s information once more, her curiosity evident.
Julia, being perceptive, had already discussed and concluded many matters with Danae, including the issue of lending money to Catilina. They had reached a consensus that lending to him was inadvisable.
Marcus, aware of their conclusions, took a casual sip of diluted wine and remarked, “Of course Catilina doesn’t have the ability to repay. If he did, would he be so gloomy?”
Among debtors, Caesar and Catilina were very different. Caesar remained confident and unbothered by his mounting debts, believing he could repay them at any time. This confidence kept him relatively unaffected by his financial strain. In contrast, Catilina was visibly troubled by his debt. His demeanor grew darker, and his confidence waned, revealing his stress and insecurity to those around him.
Creditors, highly attuned to these changes in their debtors’ attitudes, were increasingly convinced that Catilina was a lost cause. Most believed that if he failed in this election, his political career—and perhaps his future—was finished, with the likelihood of failure nearly certain.
Julia, though aware of Catilina’s likely failure, was puzzled by Marcus’s decision to lend him money. “I don’t understand why you’d lend him money when you know he’s likely to fail,” she said.
Marcus’s strategy was indeed nuanced. His goal was to create a situation where Catilina would be so deeply indebted that he could never recover. Historically, Catilina, after facing repeated failures, had resorted to rallying his peers and plotting a rebellion. The subsequent impeachment speech by Cicero against Catilina is still studied in Latin literature today as a notable example of oratory.
Marcus intended to intervene in history by positioning himself strategically. As he prepared to enter the Senate, he aimed to build a favorable reputation among the people and senators. He chose to involve himself in suppressing Catilina’s rebellion, a move that would be seen as essential for maintaining the republic's order and would not likely incur widespread animosity.
Marcus had sufficient reason to actively involve himself in the rebellion: he had lent Catilina a substantial amount of money that he would likely never recover. Although he felt regret over the money lent for the election, he viewed it as an investment for the future. Those unaware of his plan could not possibly understand his decision.
Julia, while intelligent, could not have anticipated the rebellion. “I think this magistrate election will have significant consequences. We need to prepare in advance. Please have your family be cautious about their safety.”
“Yes, I’ll make sure they are careful.”
Julia smiled faintly, feeling a bit overwhelmed. She desired a wise husband but realized that dealing with someone who overthinks could be challenging. She surrendered to Marcus’s strategic planning, knowing she had little choice but to trust his judgment.
The couple’s discussion continued late into the night.
As Marcus had predicted, the situation unfolded accordingly. Cicero, the current magistrate, vocally opposed Catilina’s candidacy, arguing that his pledges were a pretext for revolutionary ambitions.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the Senate! Catilina’s pledges are not genuine. He cannot fulfill them as a magistrate. His real aim is to incite a revolution!”
Catilina dismissed Cicero’s accusations as unfounded. Most senators believed it was excessive to disqualify a candidate without concrete evidence. Despite Cicero’s persistence, he could not halt Catilina’s candidacy.
Ultimately, the Senate concluded that Catilina’s candidacy was acceptable. To counterbalance this, the Senate nominated two strong candidates: Junius Silanus and Lucius Murena. Both were from prominent noble families and enjoyed considerable public support. With the Senate’s backing, they were expected to easily outpace Catilina.
Cicero, Cato, and even Caesar—all politically astute figures—shared this expectation. Marcus, familiar with the historical context, had planned accordingly. Yet, as often happens, unexpected exceptions arose.
“There was match-fixing in the gladiator fight?” Marcus said with a hint of frustration as he listened to Septimus’s report.
“How did that happen? I thought I had taken every precaution to prevent it.”
Match-fixing is nearly impossible to eradicate in any sport involving gambling, especially when substantial money is at stake. The temptation to manipulate outcomes is ever-present.
Marcus, who had encountered many instances of match-fixing in the modern era, had prepared thoroughly to prevent such issues. Gladiators caught in match-fixing faced execution, and those who orchestrated the fixes were publicly exposed and brought to trial. He had also established inspectors to periodically monitor the games and the conduct of the gladiators. Given the life-or-death nature of gladiator fights, detecting match-fixing was somewhat easier.
Septimus handed over a report detailing the incident and explained the situation.
“I believe it’s thanks to your vigilance that we caught this in time. Fortunately, there was no damage, as the fixers were apprehended before the match could be manipulated. In fact, our prompt action might have even increased public trust by demonstrating our commitment to integrity.”
“I see. But who is the fool behind this? Did he not think he would be caught?”
“It appears he intended to lose deliberately in a regional match and pocket a substantial payoff. The culprit turns out to be a significant figure, and the rumor has spread rapidly.”
Marcus quickly skimmed through the report, his expression darkening as he read.
“The governor of Gallia Transalpina? It makes sense he could manipulate the Gallic gladiators.”
Gallia Transalpina, the first region in Gaul to be incorporated into Rome, corresponds to modern southern France. The match-fixer had used his influence to direct the Gallic gladiators to lose according to his instructions, assuring them that their lives would be spared even in defeat. However, one gladiator, who had been thoroughly educated on such schemes, reported the incident to an inspector. This information had spread quickly through Rome, causing a stir.
Marcus felt a sense of recognition about the name. “Lucius Murena? Where have I heard that name before?”
The realization struck him suddenly, like a blow to the head. There was only one Lucius Murena who had served as the governor of Gallia Transalpina.
“Is this Lucius Murena the same person I know?”
Septimus, with an uneasy expression, confirmed the connection. “Yes. He is a candidate for this year’s consul election. With the scandal now public, his chances are ruined.”
“No, wait… if he fails…”
The butterfly effect is the idea that a small change, like a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil, can trigger a massive outcome, such as a tornado in America. This principle perfectly describes the situation at hand.
Lucius Murena, an ambitious individual, had never before been involved in match-fixing. While he might have engaged in such activities without being caught, this time, he was caught red-handed. His attempt to manipulate the gladiator games, which had been recently improved and were highly cherished by the Roman public, was almost immediately exposed.
The repercussions were significant. Romans, who took great pride in their games, reacted harshly to any politician who betrayed their trust. Consequently, in the consul election of 62 BC, Lucius Murena lost, contrary to what had happened in history. Despite the Senate’s full support, it proved impossible to overcome the citizens' outrage.
Instead, Catiline, who had narrowly missed third place, won by sheer luck. The unexpected outcome stunned both the Senate and Marcus. For the first time, the course of history shifted in a direction beyond Marcus’s control. The fact that this change was triggered by an unanticipated factor only intensified the shock.
Yet, regardless of how improbable it seemed, the reality of the election results remained unchanged. The unexpected outcome swept through Rome like a storm.