Defending a Monster: the Case for Caligula

If you know the name Caligula at all it’s probably thanks to the movie that featured a young Malcolm Mcdowell in the titular role lubricating his arm with butter and then fisting some hapless Romans.

If conventional wisdom is to be believed, this is a rough metaphor for Caligula’s treatment of the Roman Empire at large.

Regardless of the results of combining Gore Vidal’s writing with Penthouse’s money, “Caligula” is nonetheless shorthand for a sort of moral depravity unknown in the modern-day. It’s not a question of the emperor not wearing any clothes, so much as the emperor’s new clothes were probably the skin of his enemies.

Even though Caligula ascended the throne of the Roman Empire in 37 AD following  two of the better record reigns of the early Roman Empire (Augustus and Tiberius respectively), almost nothing is left of the documentation of Caligula’s reign save for the extensive accounts of some members of the Roman patrician class written years after the emperor’s demise, and two scant accounts contemporary to Caligula (Seneca and Philo respectively).

Which is to say, historiographically pretty much jack shit survives. And what does survive is about as friendly to the memory of Caligula as a Fox News biography of Barack Obama’s presidency would be in the absence of any other disputative sources whatsoever. Suetonius, the main historian’s writing which is extant, describes Caligula’s rule as monstrous, morally bankrupt, cruel, and debauched. Suetonius was also writing nearly a century after Caligula’s reign. And from an aristocratic position so hostile to a demagogue such as Caligula, that Fox News seems “fair and balanced” in its appraisal of the democratic party by comparison.

Even though it may be now be in vogue to rehabilitate some of history’s condemned even a mildly critical read of Suetonius’ Life of Caligula (circa 120-130), reveals glaring enough inconsistencies to not only cast doubt on the conventional wisdom:  Caligula= “monster,” but lends credence to the notion that the young brat very well may have brought innovation and a capable ruling hand to the  Empire.[1] This is in direct opposition to the traditional understanding and the purpose of this review.

The question of Caligula’s madness and unfitness for rule cannot be answered based on examination of his reign due to its brevity. Same goes for the measures he enacted, unless the contextual basis that Suetonius refuses the reader is related.  Thus it is crucial to examine Caligula’s Principate within the context of his predecessor (Tiberius) and successor (Claudius) while also carefully analyzing the motivation for some of his more distinctive acts while in power.

Ancient and modern writers alike have damned Caligula for actions perhaps eccentric, but more generally for laws and policies that, had they not been implemented at the behest of a youth who had done literally nothing to earn his position (Romans never really could accept dynastic succession–adoptive or otherwise) and failed to pay lip-service to a corrupt and weakening senatorial class, might have earned him the distinction bestowed on his nobler ancestors.

The main charges leveled at Caligula are:  sexual deviancy (especially incest), his bankrupting of the Empire, cruel public policies, brutal taxes…and he made his horse a senator. Which is precisely why people commission hagiographic biographies before they die. Once that incest stuff gets out there, it’s hard to erase from the public consciousness—especially when you’re dead. And Lord knows incest is the slam dunk to end every conversation regarding your memory (‘Oh yea? Well…He made out with his sister!’).

Instead of basing his judgment of Caligula on his public policy, Suetonius goes right for the exposed jugular of Caligula—his character, or in this case lack thereof. When in doubt, reach for the ad hominem especially when the target in question assumes the throne at the ripe old age of 25 with little to no experience doing much of anything other than having a popular father. At 25, “character” is going to be a weak point for most, Romans included. Especially one somewhat spoiled by his position as the son of Rome’s most popular general, Germanicus (it was Germanicus’s soldiers who gave his son, Gaius, the nickname Caligula meaning: “little boots”).

Regardless, a high quality technical administration paired with a course of action that reflects knowledge and consideration should answer the question of a ruler’s sanity or “fitness to rule,” more so than the sexual mores (a concept that the U.S. has yet to grasp due in small part to its Puritan roots) of a young man just given the keys to an Empire not known for its austerity.

Thus, it is imperative to dispel one of Suetonius’ main accusations regarding the policy of Gaius, i.e. that Caligula’s luxurious living and free-spending bankrupted the empire.  Suetonius indicts Gaius for his “unparalleled lavishness” which left the emperor “impoverished.”[2]

Suetonius proceeds to enumerate the varied duplicitous means (outrageous taxes, gambling, demanding gifts) by which Gaius sought to replenish the treasury.[3]  There is no doubt that Gaius spent freely on sumptuous banquets, feasts, and nearly constant exhibitions and entertainments for the people (and himself, who wouldn’t?), but turning Rome into a year round carnival is hardly a crime worthy of history’s damnation, even if the patricians chafed at this flaunting of decorum.[4]  Had young Caligula actually been bankrupt, sumptuous festivals and constant celebration would have reflected a lack of fiscal responsibility, and there would be little need to summon up any other evidence to demonstrate the emperor’s incompetence.

Suetonius’ own writing absolves Gaius.  Due to the brevity of Gaius’ reign it is necessary to examine his fiscal solvency in relation to Emperors Tiberius and Claudius.  Suetonius writes of Tiberius (Caligula’s predecessor , “{He} was close-fisted to the point of miserliness, never paying his staff a salary when on a foreign mission…” and “as the years went by, this stinginess turned to rapacity.”[5]

As a result of his grandfather’s scant public spending and ever-growing greed which was magnified as the years went by (according to Suetonius), Caligula is reported to have inherited a treasury of at least 2,300 million sesterces (that’s like taking the oath of office with a couple trillion dollar surplus).[6]  In just three years, however, Caligula supposedly frittered away this enormous wealth.[7]

Nevertheless, Caligula’s successor, Claudius, experienced little to zero financial hardship.  Claudius wasn’t exactly reeling from austerity measure when he built an aqueduct, completed the harbor project at Ostia, gave numerous public shows, provided for lavish gladiatorial games and waged war in Britain—all this after inheriting Gaius’ ”depleted” treasury and paying each of his praetorian guards 15,000 sesterces.[8]  Additionally, there is evidence to show that Caligula was minting coins in precious metals as of 41 AD and that his successor was able to continue to mint such coins without any hiccup—hardly indicative of a depleted imperial treasury.[9]

Due to Caligula’s brief rule, some might argue that simply maintaining the solvency of the treasury does not by itself qualify as demonstrating soundness of mind in policy matters.  Suetonius writes, “the tax collectors were ordered to raise new and unprecedented levies” and among these crippling taxes were universal controls on food, porters, slaves and prostitutes.[10]

A universal tax on food sold in Rome or the the earnings of slaves would be more unwieldy to collect at that time than profitable.[11]  His tax on prostitution, however, apparently was an acceptable measure as it was maintained by his successors.[12]  Suetonius tells us that the Emperor’s measures were unpopular; Yet, unpopularity alone is not a sound judge of tax policy (otherwise the U.S. code would look very different).[13]

To be sure, the young Emperor likely realized that he’d been too generous (he initially abolished Rome’s .5% sales tax completely) and thus any actions he took afterward to bolster revenue were sure to be unpopular as they marked a departure from his precedent of tax-cuts.[14]  The main reason his taxes would have been “new” or “outrageous” was that they were direct taxes on the Roman people rather than tariffs or tribute measures.  The Roman populace would not have been used to the manner of the taxes,  despite Suetonius’ own writing that the new taxes were no harsher than that his predecessors.[15] [16]

There is little in Caligula’s domestic policy to condemn the Emperor for insanity.  What about his foreign policy, most notably his much maligned expedition to Germany in 39 AD?  Suetonius vividly portrays Gaius’ campaign to Germany and aborted invasion of Britain as frivolous, unpremeditated attempts at self-aggrandizement.  Suetonius writes that “someone reminded Gaius that he needed Batavians for his bodyguard.”[17] Accounts then report that the Emperor assembled a force of at least 200,000 men, yet left Rome in a rush.[18]  What the histories do not mention is the likelihood that Gaius moved speedily to undercut the conspiracy of Gaetulicus (an ambitious, popular general of Upper Germany) and Lepidus (Gaius’ brother-in-law).

As German encroachments across northern Roman borders became more regular, a huge show of force was needed to both subdue the Germans and quash any dissension among the provincial Roman ranks.  Such a conspiracy accounts for the speed with which Gaius left Rome, the discharge of numerous centurions (the allegiance of many was questionable), and the appointment of a new general, Galba.  Despite the anecdotal and conflicting accounts of historians, Suetonius and Dio, Caligula’s campaign did achieve a number of goals.

The campaign to the Rhine marked the first time in 50 years that the emperor had visited the provinces. And undoubtedly a rebellion was nipped in the bud, disloyal soldiers fired, legion discipline restored, conspirators arrested, and the frontier secured.[19]  Whether or not Gaius’ army collected seashells and under what pretext becomes irrelevant in light of such a demonstrative campaign, as it is clear that Suetonius’ writing is so hostile as to be nearly unusable.[20]

If Caligula were capable and sane, what reasons could there be for the assassination of a young Emperor who desired to effect responsible policies in his empire?  Caligula, despite his love of theatre, failed as an actor on the most important stage of all.

Born under the principate, son of a demagogue, and sure of his right to rule, Caligula inherited a throne that was still expected to at least pose as a Republican institution.  Hardly mature when he became Emperor, the Senate expected Caligula to be a man upon whom the aristocracy could impose their will and regain some of the power lost under Augustus and Tiberius.[21]

Caligula, however, believed that it was his empire to rule and would not act the part of Augustus or Tiberius.  He refused to pay deference to a Senatorial class that he quickly realized he did not need to rule.  A body of distinguished men who feel too important to be treated as figureheads can be a dangerous thing, as Julius Caesar learned decades earlier.  Caligula was every bit the populist too, and garnered popularity with the Roman people through lavish displays and games.  Such constant entertainment smacked of a lack of decorum to the Senators who still remembered Rome as a republic and did not relish the pressure to contribute their own fortunes to the public entertainment.

The Emperor’s dark sense of humor that often targeted the nobility to the delight of the masses fostered still more resentment for him within the Senate.  Caligula exacted his will, dominated the government, perhaps engaged in some lewd behavior, and all the while was likely beloved by the people.  The prospect of a long and prosperous era under such man was too much for a Senate, clinging to republican values, to bear.  And thus a capable visionary, not a mad despot would fall once to the Senate’s assassin’s knife and again years later to the pen of the historians of the same class that had killed him.

And the horse? He never did assume public office. Although Caligula promised the Senate that his horse could be Consul (the highest position available to a Senator, and before the Empire, the most powerful position in the republic). And given the redundancy of the office under the Emperor, Caligula was probably right, although the Senate seemed to have failed to see the humor therein.