Son of Julius Caesar: Rebuilding Rome [Business/Republic building]

"Why are you all just standing around? Why not come inside and share a meal with me?"

"..."

"It’s dreadfully hot out today. You must all be exhausted."

"T-Then give the free-grain bill your support, Consul!"

"That is entirely for the popular assembly to decide."

"But isn’t your son printing pamphlets against the free-grain bill?"

"Are you asking me to deny my son his right as a Roman citizen to conduct his own business? Anyone listening might think the dictator Sulla had risen from the grave."

"N-No, that’s not what I..."

Leaning against the main gate, I watched Father casually conversing with the protesters.

Anyone passing by would have thought he was having a friendly discussion with his own supporters.

The men he was speaking to were actually Clodius’s supporters, who had gathered to protest outside our estate.

But what was truly bizarre was Father’s reaction to them.

"I will have my servants bring out some wine and water. At least quench your thirst while you stand out here."

"..."

At Father’s offer, the men exchanged bewildered glances, momentarily lost for words.

At first, they had shouted slogans and even thrown a few pieces of fruit.

But when Father didn’t react with hostility, they were soon reduced to standing there awkwardly.

As Father turned to head back inside, the men whispered among themselves.

"He’s offering us wine. Is it some kind of trap?"

"Well, I don’t care. I was thirsty anyway."

"You idiot! Have you forgotten why we’re even here?!"

Listening to their hushed bickering, I couldn’t help but chuckle.

"I’m fairly certain you’re the only man in Rome who would offer wine to a mob protesting outside his own home, Father."

"There isn’t a Roman alive who would refuse wine, is there?" Father said as he stepped back through the gates.

"Very few of those men genuinely support Clodius and Curio. Most are here for the coin or for some empty promise Clodius made them."

He added, "And there is no enemy easier to handle than a rabble without conviction."

"That is a very ’you’ thing to say, Father."

"It seems those illustrations you placed in the bathhouses are working wonders. Clodius’s supporters seem far less confident than before."

"I merely made the suggestion. Pompeia is the one who actually created them."

Father was right. The effect was undeniable.

There is one thing men who rely on intimidation and violence fear above all else: becoming objects of public ridicule.

Regardless of the era, few weapons are as effective as ridicule.

Imagine a grown man standing stark naked in a bathhouse changing room, desperately trying to win another man over to his political cause.

After seeing that cartoon, what citizen could possibly take Clodius and Curio’s faction seriously?

"I have a feeling the women of Rome will play a much larger role from now on."

Father smiled warmly.

"At this rate, they might even start demanding the right to vote soon."

"That day will inevitably come."

I wondered when the women of this world would finally gain the right to vote.

It probably would not happen within my lifetime, though.

As I was lost in thought, a sudden clamor echoed down the street toward our estate.

It sounded almost like the rhythmic thunder of a marching legion. Father and I burst through the gates together.

The protesters who had stood outside only moments earlier had scattered.

Pompey now stood in their place, with dozens of muscular men behind him.

"Lucius. Gaius."

Pompey gave the two of us a curt nod.

"There has been an incident in the Forum."

***

The trouble had begun without warning.

As usual, the Forum was packed with Clodius and Curio’s supporters.

They harassed Lucius’s criers and interfered with the sale of Cato’s pamphlets.

"If you want to know the truth, read this pamphlet instead!"

"It lists forty-five reasons Rome needs the free-grain bill!"

As Clodius’s supporters continued to dominate the Forum day after day, ordinary citizens gradually began avoiding the Forum.

However, that didn’t mean Clodius’s plan had succeeded.

As the cartoons mocking them spread throughout the city, fewer and fewer citizens took Clodius’s men seriously.

Some passersby even jeered openly at Clodius’s men.

"Hey! Nice to see you boys actually wearing clothes today! I thought you fellows preferred going about stark naked!"

As the mockery spread, the number of Clodius’s supporters gathering in the Forum began to dwindle.

There were not many men willing to endure public ridicule every day merely to join a demonstration.

But the mood changed abruptly the moment Consul Luceius entered the Forum.

Luceius, who had gone out of his way to avoid confrontation until now, marched directly into the Forum flanked by his lictors.

"Consul Luceius! We implore you to support the free grain dole!"

"What is your stance on the grain dole?!"

Throughout the pamphlet war, Consuls Caesar and Luceius had maintained strict neutrality.

Aside from issuing stern warnings that they would not tolerate violence, they had never publicly declared whether they supported or opposed the free-grain bill.

Of course, it was an open secret that they opposed it, but they had never made it official.

But Luceius’s arrival brought that delicate balance to an end.

"Disperse at once and clear the Forum! Or you will face the consequences!"

"An illegal occupation?! We are merely voicing our opinions through legal means! As Roman citizens, that is our absolute right!"

"This is your final warning. Clear the path and empty the Forum!"

Faced with Luceius’s forceful warnings, Clodius’s supporters appeared ready to back down.

Just then, someone hurled a stone from within the crowd.

With a sickening thud, a lictor collapsed, clutching his bleeding forehead.

"They’ve attacked the consul’s lictors! Drive every last one of these bastards out of the Forum!"

"Yes, sir!"

At Luceius’s furious command, the lictors and his supporters charged forward, swinging fists and batons.

As bricks and stones flew through the air, it was not long before blood stained the pavement of the Forum.

It was a scene that had repeated itself many times over the past few decades of the Republic.

***

"No casualties have been reported yet. But there are dozens of injured. Clodius is already spinning the narrative, claiming that the Senate launched an illegal and unprovoked attack on his supporters, and he’s rallying his supporters again."

As Pompey finished his explanation, a heavy silence fell over us.

Father’s expression darkened at the same moment as mine.

"The very scenario we feared has come to pass. I never imagined Luceius would act so rashly without consulting me."

"..."

I could only nod.

Why did Luceius, who had remained passive all this time, suddenly decide to do something so stupid?

But we had no time to examine his motives right now.

"Now that blood has been spilled, the Senate will undoubtedly move to issue the Senatus Consultum Ultimum," I said.

The Senatus Consultum Ultimum, or the Senate’s Final Decree, was Rome’s most extreme emergency measure.

It was an extreme emergency measure declaring martial law, granting the consuls extraordinary authority to resolve the crisis by whatever means they considered necessary.

The fatal flaw was that those necessary measures were never clearly defined. The Senate’s hard-liners interpreted the decree as giving them the right to execute citizens without trial.

Only after the blood had dried did anyone seriously debate whether those actions had been lawful.

"The Senate will order you to crush Clodius, Curio, and their faction."

"During the time of the Gracchi, more than three thousand citizens were slaughtered and thrown into the Tiber for supporting them."

Father’s voice was low.

"This time, they will demand even more blood. I refuse to commit such an atrocity."

"If you carry out such an order, Rome will descend into chaos."

I fell silent, weighing the consequences. Until now, Clodius had carefully skirted the law.

He had unleashed his supporters in the Forum and the bathhouses, but they had not resorted to open violence until today.

What would happen if the Senate now issued the Ultimum and launched an all-out assault on Clodius’s faction?

"And you would be the one forced to bear the full blame, Father. You would lose the support of countless Roman citizens overnight."

No one answered. There was nothing to dispute.

Slaughtering thousands of citizens simply because they supported the free-grain proposal was tantamount to political suicide.

If that happened, whether Clodius lived or died, his faction would only grow stronger.

"If the Senate issues the Ultimum, this situation will spiral completely out of control. But if I, as Consul, publicly refuse to carry it out, I will effectively be declaring war on the Senate. They will immediately brand me a traitor and accuse me of siding with Clodius."

Pompey, who had been listening in silence, interrupted.

"I never thought I would hear such weak, pathetic words from you, Gaius. Did you become consul merely to serve as the optimates’ loyal lapdog?"

I looked at Pompey.

As he had during the earlier assassination plot, he had brought his supporters with him, arrayed like a legion ready for war.

"Didn’t you bring your men here to fight Clodius’s supporters?"

"I brought them as a precaution, to protect the two of you. If our enemies draw their swords, shouldn’t we at least raise our shields?"

Pompey let out a heavy sigh.

"Damn it all, no one in Rome despises that snake Clodius more than I do. One of my own men was murdered by him only recently. But because I couldn’t find solid proof, I was forced to abandon the investigation."

He added, his frustration evident.

"Lucius, why did you bother with this pamphlet war in the first place? You could simply have killed them all, as the Senate did to the Gracchi."

"Because slaughter cannot be our answer to every problem."

A problem like this could not be solved by force.

Whenever the citizens grew dissatisfied and demanded new legislation, the Senate’s answer had always been force.

They branded anyone who demanded change an enemy of the Republic, slaughtered them without trial, and dumped their corpses in the Tiber.

Because the cycle of bloodshed had repeated itself since the days of the Gracchi, Rome had lost its ability to correct or reform itself.

"No matter how unrealistic or dangerous a policy may be, it must be rejected through lawful political procedures—through the popular assembly. If the Senate intervenes and slaughters them, it will only add fuel to the fire."

"Then do it your way," Pompey grumbled.

"I’m no good at politics, but haven’t you and your father accomplished one impossible feat after another?"

"..."

Father and I exchanged a long look.

Pompey was right. I had already changed Rome in countless ways.

"There might be a way. But it will require something unprecedented."

"Our greatest weapon has always been our willingness to do what no one else has attempted."

"The Ultimum has not yet been adopted. As consul, you must be present for it to pass."

"Given what happened, an emergency session will be convened within half a day at the latest. That gives us no more than half a day."

Father nodded.

"But it is nearly impossible to accomplish anything in so little time. It would take a full day merely to meet the senators one by one and win them over."

"Half a day is more than enough," I said, looking Father squarely in the eye.

Our most powerful weapon had been right in front of me all along.

Gaius Julius Caesar was one of Rome’s greatest military strategists and a brilliant orator capable of captivating any crowd.

"You must take the stage yourself, Father."

"Take the stage? What exactly do you mean?"

"In a situation like this, pamphlets will no longer be enough. When fear and chaos grip the streets, only one weapon remains."

A leader the people can trust to restore order and uphold justice.

"You must address the citizens directly."

"You want me to resolve this entire crisis with a single speech? That’s quite the tall order."

Father let out a hearty laugh.

"I assume you have a specific plan in mind?"

"Just as you said, Father. We must restore the Roman people’s faith in themselves and in the Republic."

Faith and pride—those were the forces that had moved the Roman people throughout their history.

And right now, there was no greater orator in Rome than Gaius Julius Caesar.

"With a single speech, you must bind the hands of both Clodius and the Senate."

***

As the pamphlet war raged on, men weren’t the only ones caught in the fray.

The women of Rome, long excluded from formal political participation, were beginning to make their presence known.

And the one leading them was Caesar’s daughter, Julia.

"Did everyone practice what we covered last time? We’ll continue from where we left off today," she said, gently tapping her wax tablet.

The literacy classes, which had begun with a handful of poor girls from the Subura, had expanded to serve hundreds of women.

The students included not only young girls but also mothers and elderly women.

Women who had never received any formal education in their entire lives were gathering in the homes of Julia and other patrician women.

Lucius had even provided rooms in several insulae for them to use as classrooms.

Despite their grueling daily lives, these women carved out what little spare time they had to learn their letters.

Countless women could finally write their own names, read numbers and prices, and even understand letters and public notices.

Their lessons soon went beyond basic literacy.

"How do you read this sentence in the pamphlet?"

"Ah, this is Senator Cato’s piece. If you remember the grammar we covered, you should be able to read it."

"This is the pamphlet Clodius’s men handed out yesterday. What does this word mean?"

Once the pamphlet war began, women began picking up pamphlets from bathhouses and street vendors.

Though they could not vote, they could now follow political events and form opinions of their own.

"Did everyone hear the news? Clodius’s supporters clashed with Luceius’s men in the Forum today."

"Does that mean the Senate is going to launch an attack?"

"My husband supports Clodius. Does that mean we have to flee Rome?"

"My son is an ardent supporter of Cato. No matter how much I beg him to stop, he goes out every day to argue with Clodius’s men."

"They may put up proscription lists again, just as Sulla did."

As countless women were gripped by terror and anxiety, the word spread that Consul Caesar would address the Forum.

"Caesar will surely refuse to use force."

"But if Clodius’s supporters ambush him in the Forum..."

"If that happens, no one will be able to stop the bloodshed."

"Is there really nothing we can do?"

"..."

Each of them had men in her family—fathers, husbands, brothers, or sons.

If Rome descended into political purges and bloodshed, families on both sides would suffer.

"My father told me a story once. During the war with Carthage, Rome enacted the Oppian Law, which forbade women from wearing gold jewelry or riding in carriages."

"But there’s no such law now."

"The law remained in force for years after the war ended, but it was eventually overturned. Do you know why it was finally repealed?"

Julia asked, looking over the assembled women.

"Because the women of Rome took to the streets and demanded its repeal. We may not have the right to vote, but that does not mean we are powerless."

The ability to read and write gave them the power to share their thoughts with countless others.

"Please copy this message and pass it on to as many women as you can. We cannot just sit by and do nothing."

And so, countless messages written by women passed from hand to hand throughout Rome.

Every message ended with the same call to action.

[Remember the Sabine Women!]