M. Porcius Cato

Apathy and direct democracy are false alternatives. Clearly there are matters that legal experts should work on, including the language of bills. For example, whether the recently introduced HR 267, 270, and 271 provide policy improvements over HR 376, 303, and 808 is a matter that is too complicated and arcane to have to deal with on a daily basis. And, truthfully Moonlapse, did you know that there was a difference between 267 and 376 before looking it up? And if you spent all your time on this sort of thing, could you lead a normal life and career? I view the government as being like plumbing. It should work without much intervention or modification on my part. When it needs attention, I certainly give it, and I pay a lot of attention to the plumbers I hire and how to choose them, but otherwise I leave them to their jobs and hold them responsible for their work. It's called a division of labor society. It works for government just as well as for plumbing--not perfect, but better than all the alternatives.

But that's rather the point--to needle Antony, why would you say "even Cincinnatus..would not demean himself so" rather than "even Cinna..would not demean himself so"? If you wanted to call attention to just how very bad Antony was behaving, you'd want to compare him to the worst sorts of populares, and the foursome of Cinna, Marius, and the Gracchi would fit the bill rather nicely (at least for someone of Vorenus' politics).

Doubtfully. The Bellamy salute was discontinued as a salute to the flag by Roosevelt in 1942. Wikipedia has photos of the children of Japanese interns, presumably from 1942 - 1946, using the hand-on-chest salute. My guess is that the first photo was taken prior to Roosevelt's 1942 decision. It's hard to imagine that after WWII anyone would employ the Bellamy salute regardless of whether its pre-Nazi history was benign.

A proportional system has some serious drawbacks, including the ones mentioned by GO, as well as all the problems of the current system. For one, proportional representation isn't necessarily democratic. Imagine the following situation: 75% of voters oppose Issue X, 75% oppose Issue Y, and 75% oppose Issue Z. Now, if there are one issue voters who support Issue X, Issue Y and Issue Z, they could easily form three different parties: the X Party, the Y Party, and the Z party, each gaining 25% of seats in the legislature. Since these parties are devoted only to passage of their one issue, they can now form a coalition to get X, Y, and Z passed--even though the majority of voters are opposed to each them. It's easy to see how this might play out. For example, social conservatives who really don't care about economic liberty could join forces with economic libertarians who really don't care about personal liberties to form a bloc that is socially conservative and economically libertarian. Or: social libertarians who really don't care about government intervention in the economy could join forces with socialists who really don't mind if gays marry to form a bloc that is socially liberal and economically statist. (Obviously, I chose these two combinations deliberately: they're a pretty good description of the two parties that are currently vying for power, with each party being combinations of subgroups that have different priorities.) As far as I can tell, those with unpopular agendas will always have a chance in either a two-party or a multi-party system, much to the disgust of the majority. The only alternative would be direct democracy, which would be even worse--to give all the matters of state the attention that it deserves, everyone would have to quit their jobs and follow contemporary policy debate full time. For my part, I'd rather delegate my vote to an agent of my choice, so I can concentrate on things that really matter (like setting the record straight on ancient bald men who run around claiming to be descended from Venus).

If the alleged Roman and Bellamy salutes were pre-Nazi, why should they be "awful"? The Bellamy salute was not only pre-Nazi, but was used before, during, after the Nazis, and because it was used by the Nazis, it has become awful to behold. As an example of how awful it really seems these days, I asked an older colleague how he pledged allegiance to the flag (and to the Republic for which it stands etc etc), and he couldn't recall. When I asked about the Bellamy salue, he said he didn't even know what it was, and when I illustrated it based on the two photographs from the late 19th and early 20th century, the poor guy recoiled so violently he nearly fell over backwards. I'll bet you're clever enough to figure out why--even if the Bellamy salute were pre-Nazi--it should have been so awful to him.

I think you're misunderstanding the events completely. There was no plot to kill Pompey. The "plot" was a complete (and laughably absurd) fabrication. For example, Vettius claimed that to kill Pompey, he was given a dagger by Bibulus, as if Vettius couldn't have found one on his own without the consul's supplying him one! Moreover, Bibulus had earlier saved Pompey from an attack by assassins, for which Pompey had thanked him. The outstanding questions are: who invented this fabrication? who could have benefitted from it? and why was the fabrication put forward when it was? For what it's worth, there have been two scholarly articles on this topic: McDermott, W. C. (1949). Vettius Ille, Illne Noster Index. Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association, 80, 351-367. Allen, W. (1950). The "Vettius Affair" once more. Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association, 81, 153-163. (If you PM me, I'd be happy to send you a copy of each.) You can judge the evidence for yourself, but both articles take Caesar to be complicit in the affair, either as an accessory after the fact (e.g., by twisting Vettius' arm to drop the charge against young Brutus) or as the author of the witch hunt itself. The authors also take Cicero's chronology to be the most reliable of the ancient sources (which is unsurprising, since it was the only one that provided contemporary testimonia). Dio's account of the affair, by the way, suffers from a confused chronology on many points, including when the consulur comitia took place and when Cicero defended Gaius Antonius.

Acting with reason is not only a right of free men-- acting with reason is a moral duty. Moreover, your question "who will define reason" is irrelevant. Why not ask, "who will define 'proof' in mathematics"? It doesn't matter if people have different definitions or not--no matter what definition people choose, if I can reduce a theorem to the level of an identity statement (A is A) or direct perception, I can always use that theorem to solve new problems (and since higher level theorems allow problems to solved quickly and even estimated, these theorems are enormously practical). Your comparison of the irrationality of the terrorists and the debates on this forum is invalid. What we see on this forum are disagreements, which are a natural part of reasoning, that arise from uncertain premises and incomplete evidence (which is in the nature of ancient history). Yet, there is no rational uncertainty about wheter the use of physical force is a valid argument--yet, this is what the injunction to spread Islam by the sword amounts to, and this is what the pope was arguing against. Are you seriously arguing that physical force is a valid argument? If not, then you must abandon the polylogism that you've endorsed. Or, if you do think that physical force is a valid argument, I'm sure that someone will be happy to engage you in "debate."

It's my hunch too. Power was corrupting Alexander, and his men had had it.

If you're interested in my response to all these issues, please see my previous post.

Not that I think we need to nuke anyone in the Mideast, but if we did, we should be ashamed to hide behind the petticoats of Israel.

Chronicle of the Roman Republic: The Rulers of Ancient Rome from Romulus to Augustus by Philip Matyszak The history of the Roman republic--a story about how one city in Italy overthrew a monarchy, conquered her neighbors, united Italy, defeated all her rivals in the Mediterranean, and descended into civil war and ultimately monarchy again--presents a formidable challenge to any beginner. The republic itself was a political entity so complex it bewildered foreigners and Romans alike. Its magistrates--a dazzling succession of consuls, suffect consuls, dictators, praetors, aediles, tribunes and special commissioners stretching over nearly 500 years--were too numerous for even the Romans (who were otherwise quite happy to list these sorts of things) to bother recording them all. Finally, the evidence of who these men were and what, when, where, and why they did what they did lies scattered across coins, temple inscriptions, grave markers, bronze tablets, pottery sherds, and written histories that as often seek to justify as to inform. To reconstruct this fragmentary and sometimes unreliable evidence into an integrated narrative is far too daunting for even the most intelligent and motivated student, which is why anyone interested in beginning to take up the task should begin with The Chronicle of the Roman Republic by Philip Matyszak. Dr. Philip 'Maty' Matyszak, an Oxford-educated historian and author of Enemies of Rome from Hannibal to Atilla the Hun, Sons of Caesar: Rome's Julio-Claudian Emperors, and the eagerly-awaited Political Sociology of the Roman Republic from Sulla to Augustus, has written a highly-readable, entertaining, and informative chronicle of the leading magistrates of the Roman republic. In 231 pages, Matyszak narrates the lives of 57 Roman leaders, beautifully embellished with 293 illustrations (98 in color), including maps, military diagrams, photographs of modern sites, coins, gems, mosaics, portrait sculptures, ancient weapons, ships, household artifacts, inscriptions, and modern paintings depicting Republican themes (such as the deputation to Cincinnatus and the suicide of Cato). After a brief introduction covering "Republican Virtues" and "The Rise of Rome", the Chronicle is organized into four parts: the regal period, the founding of the republic, the wars of expansion, and the era of Caesar. The basic units of each section are devoted to a single Roman leader, including the famous (Scipio, Marius, Sulla, Cicero, Caesar, Brutus), the should-be-famous (Poplicola, Camillus, Marcellus, Livius Drusus, Sertorius), the historically important (Appius Claudius, Flamininus, the Gracchi), the notorious (Flaminius, Galba, Saturninus, Clodius), the legendary (Romulus and Remus, Numa Pompilius, Tullus Hostilius, Ancus Marcius, Servius Tullius), and of course those figures of Roman virtus (Horatius Cocles, Cincinnatus, Regulus, and someone the author calls "Cato the Stoic") who defined the Republic for many generations of students. Helpfully, each of the 57 figures are placed on a proper timeline, and they are listed with basic genealogical facts, offices held, principal achievements, and manner of death. The sum of all this is like a highly approachable and chronologically arranged version of Smith's Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology (or, if you prefer, National Geographic meets Broughton's Magistrates of the Roman Republic). Strangely, although the Chronicle comes to an end, it does not actually have an ending--no epilogue putting these lives into an overarching context. This is regrettable. The author's introduction contains a number of interesting claims that attempt to name the essence of the republican character ("They were hard men -- prudish, superstitious, brutal, and utterly uncompromising. And they were also unflinchingly, sometimes suicidally, brave. ... They were intolerant of weakness, exploiting it in others and despising it in themselves. They won their wars simply because, to this arrogant nation, the concept of defeat was literally unthinkable") and to trace the causes of the decline of the republic ("conquered peoples and freed slaves were welcomed into the ranks of citizens. When this policy of inclusiveness changed, the consequences led directly to the fall of the Republic"). Yet by the end, we have so many examples of the sexually shameless, the irreligious, and even the compromising (Caesar, Clodius, and Cicero readily come to mind), what are we to make of the generalizations in the introduction? Here an epilogue would have been quite helpful. To be sure, the Chronicle does provide much of the context needed to understand the lives of our republican leaders, but it does this using a strategy that yields mixed outcomes. The basic technique is one that has always enjoyed wide use in popular magazines and has now become ubiquitous in college textbooks--viz., the "special feature" cut-away, those little boxes of text on seemingly random topics that interrupt the narrative and divide one's attention. To be sure, it's very nice to have listed the principal historical sources (Livy and so forth), the offices of the Roman constitution, and the Twelve Tables. Also, discussing the Twelve Tables in the context of Appius Claudius the Decemvir, Roman roads in the context of Appius Claudius the Blind, and Stoicism in the context of "Cato the Stoic" certainly seems reasonable enough. However, the placement of many special features make less sense. For example, "Trade and the Roman Aristocracy" interrupts the discussion of Livius Drusus to no good effect, whereas it could have been quite useful when introducing the lex Flaminia or discussing Cato the Elder. Why, in the context of Tiberius Gracchus, we should learn how to don a toga still mystifies me, though in the context of his brother Gaius, the special feature on the publicani was quite apt. Again, the section on Pompey is strangely interrupted by a cut-away on gladiators (and not even because he mentions that Pompey had a real taste for the games), whereas the section on Crassus (who fought a whole army of gladiators) has only a small picture of an archaic one. For this cut-away strategy, it's hard to know whether to blame the author or not: sometimes editors can be such unconscionable populares. Although the Chronicle is a very good introduction to the men, events, and society of the Roman republic, its biographical approach needlessly omits much regarding the moral and philosophical ideas that motivated these men. With the exception of the influence of Stoicism on Cato the Younger, one seldom gets the impression that the Romans thought very much or very deeply about where they were going, why they were going there, and what fundamentally they were fighting about. Then (as now) ideas mattered: at the root of many social conflicts was a culture clash (e.g., between Hellenism and the agrarian mos maiorum), and for the Romans whose civitas justified (at least in their own eyes) the annihilation of iron age tribes, it would have been nice to have heard a bit from the men who distinguished the Romans from such expansionist tribes as the Huns. The polymath Varro, the philosopher Lucretius, the poet Catullus, and comedian Plautus must have expressed what some of the leading Romans thought of themselves, their world, and their colleagues, and their voices must be considered at least as important as the method for donning a toga. With only these two criticisms, however, I couldn't recommend either a better introduction to the Republic or a more enjoyable reference work for even the well-read Romanophile.

But then he's using words to manipulate behavior with no regard their truth? Is that consistent with the commandment not to bear false witness? I don't think so. It's the sort of behavior we expect from politicians, not men of ideas. If he has no cause for regret, shouldn't he say so? To my mind, apologizing to these Islamic fanatics is the worst thing to do--if the pope was sincere, he should show as much courage on behalf of peace as do the fanatics on behalf of war. Of course it is one's legal right to reject any ideology with or without cause, but is it right to reject a doctrine without reason? I think not. To turn Dostoeyevski's phrase on its head, without reason, all things are permissable.

And for that I admire Thomas Aquinas over all other theologians. Philosophically, he's my favorite medievalist and Catholic (though I find his arguments on the existence of God utterly unconvincing). So why do you think he apologized? And why do you think he apologized specifically to people like the Muslim Brotherhood of Egypt yet not to the secularists whom he also criticized?

Calm down GO. I read your Holiness' speech, and it's not me who asked the fellow to apologize for it. The old man himself decided to express his regrets. Personally, I rather liked the speech as a very nice application of Aquinas' views to contemporary politics. HOWEVER, I should note that of the three groups who were the subjects of the Pontiff's talk--violent Islamicists (whom Ratz would describe as following 'faith WITHOUT reason'), secular Europeans (whom Ratz would describe as following 'reason WITHOUT faith'), and proper followers of Aquinas (whom Ratz believes to find some permissible and admirable mixture of reason and faith)--two groups had reason to disagree (violent Islamicists and secularists), yet only one received an apology (violent Islamicists). To me, this shows the whole rottenness of the Thomist compromise between reason and faith--in a compromise of this sort, there is absolutely no principled way to decide when and whether to use reason, and so in the end it amounts to complete capitulation to those who would follow faith without reason. Your Holiness' apology to the Islamicists is simply the logical outcome of an impossible compromise. In my view, there is no co-operation possible between those who follow faith without reason and those who follow reason without faith. Normally, this is no problem whatever (live and let live), but when when the former group decides to pick up their ancient sword against the secular cities of the West (as the Islamicists have done), these violent faithful should be prepared for the vastly more powerful arsenal that science and reason brings to the battlefield. And, frankly, those who would mix their faith and reason should either choose sides or get the hell out of the way--NOT try to be peacemakers and NOT apologize. (Now, my apolgies if this rhetoric gets us moved to the Arena--but I find the Pontiff's apology to be reprehensible.)

Now the Pontiff apologizes. Ah, well, I guess no one's infallible.

Not a chance! No way! You do not share DNA with the Hero of the Ages! Actually, I'm quite happy to be M. Herius Procyon, freedman of the illustrious N. Herius Cato. Better to be a slave of Cato, than a kinsman of Caesar. (sorry--couldn't resist). Many thanks Nepilla. This is fun!

N. Herius Cato! My bosom comrade! Now, I'll probably end up as some damned Julian: ceefhhijnooprr (male).

Cato did not oppose all of Caesar's proposed laws. Cato worked closedly with Caesar in prosecuting the old Sullan aristocracy (defended by both Hortensius and Cicero), and Cato supported at least one of the early leges Iuliae, presumably Caesar's lex Iulia repetendarum, which was a particularly harsh law covering misconduct by magistrates. Additionally, the gallery picture you posted is a portrait of Cato the Elder, not Cato the Younger (in old age, as you suggest). Cato the Younger died in his 40s, whereas Cato the Elder lived to a very old age. For someone who hurls so much at Cato, you really ought to learn something about the fellow. Although I'm a severe critic of Caesar, at least I bother to learn about him.

The word of authority is not sufficient to convince me.

Isn't it an American who owns Man U?

Is it really possible that we disagree about football too, Clodius. I'm deep Arsenal.

I'm sympathetic to GO's suggestion. The topic of agrarian legislation in the late republic is immense, and I'd prefer to see a tad more light even if it results in a little more heat. The basic outline of the topic isn't that immense: the agrarian legislation of the late republic comprises only the lex Thoria, the lex Iulia agraria, and the lex Iulia agraria Campania. My thesis is simply that there were legitimate grounds for opposing each of these laws, as against the claim by Goldsworthy that "little or nothing within it [the lex Iulia agraria] could be reasonably criticized." On the basis of this, I speculate that these legitimate grounds for opposing the laws were actually expressed by Cato, and this was the cause of Caesar's apoplexia.

The fact is we know that Cato wished to prosecute Caesar. Whether or not Caesar, with his various oratorial and political skills coupled with his popularity, would've been enough to secure a viable future is unknown. I lean towards agreement with your assessment of how it would've played out but there's no way for us to know for sure (nor Caesar for that matter). OK--that's true. Whenever we're engaging in counterfactual reasoning, there's an element of uncertainty, but then it must also be admitted that whether or not Caesar's enemies would have "had his head" (as an earlier poster claimed) must also be admitted as uncertain on the same premise.

You've made several claims that are apparently being updated on-the-fly. First, you made the claim that the agrarian laws proposed by Caesar dispossessed no one of any land. But the Campanian law most certainly did. Do you now accept that Caesar's agrarian bills did dispossess the families of Scipio's veterans? You next claimed that the opposition to dispossessing the families of Scipio's vets was motivated by a desire to keep Pompey's vets from being able to travel to Rome to vote. If this were true, then you must believe that there were already occupied lands in travelling distance of Rome that were to be confiscated for Caesar's party. Is this not correct? Look, let's table Cato's motivation for a minute here, and look at the issue afresh: were there or were there not legitimate objections that could be raised to the agrarian legislation that was proposed in the late republic? I maintain Yes--it's not right to steal land from one group of vets to give to another group; I have no idea anymore whether or not you agree.