Late in his reign, sick and possibly near death, Stoic Emperor Marcus Aurelius received surprising news. His old friend and most trusted general, Avidius Cassius, had rebelled in Syria. Having heard the emperor was vulnerable or possibly dead, the ambitious general declared himself Caesar and assumed the throne.
Marcus should have been angry. After all, this man was trying to take his job and possibly his life. If we think about what other emperors did to their rivals and enemies, for instance Nero killed his own mother and Otho had Galba murdered in 69 A.D. and paraded his head around Rome, it makes Marcus’s response all the more unusual. Because he didn’t immediately set out to crush this man who had betrayed him, who threatened his life, his family, and his legacy. Instead, Marcus did nothing. He even kept the news secret from his troops, who might have been enraged or provoked on his behalf—and simply waited: Would Cassius come to his senses?
The man did not. And so Marcus Aurelius called a council of his soldiers and made a rather extraordinary announcement. They would march against Cassius and obtain the “great prize of war and of victory.” But of course, because it was Marcus, this war prize was something wholly different.
Marcus informed them of his plan to capture Cassius, but not kill him. Instead, he would, “. . . forgive a man who has wronged one, to remain a friend to one who has transgressed friendship, to continue faithful to one who has broken faith.”
In a true Stoic fashion, Marcus had controlled his perceptions. He wasn’t angry, he didn’t despise his enemy. He would not say an ill word against him. He would not take it personally. Then he acted—rightly and firmly—ordering troops to Rome to calm the panicking crowds and then set out to do what must be done: protect the empire, put down a threat.
As he told his men, if there was one profit they could derive from this awful situation that they had not wanted, it would be to “settle this affair well and show to all mankind that there is a right way to deal even with civil wars.”
Of course, as so often happens, even the most well-intentioned plans can be interrupted by others. For both Cassius and Marcus, their destiny was changed when a lone assassin struck Cassius down in Egypt, three months later. His dream of empire ended right there. Marcus’s initial hope to be able to forgive, in person, his betrayer ended as well.
Arriving in the provinces shortly after the death of Cassius, Marcus refused to put any co-conspirators to death. He declined to prosecute any of the senators or governors who had endorsed or expressed support for the uprising. And when other senators insisted on death sentences for their peers associated with the rebellion, he wrote them simply: “I implore you, the senate, to keep my reign unstained by the blood of any senator. May it never happen.”
Marcus chose to forgive essentially everyone involved. He wouldn’t take any of it personally. He’d be a better person, a better leader for it.
Your average person is likely not to be betrayed by a trusted general and be faced with a civil war. But all of us are going to face betrayals—big and small in life. From friends, co-workers, spouses, even total strangers and contractors and companies. To think you’re not is naive and delusional. As Marcus would write in Meditations, “to expect a bad person not to harm others is like expecting fig trees not to secrete juice, babies not to cry, horses not to neigh—the inevitable not to happen. What else could they do—with that sort of character?”
The question then is how will this affect you? Will it make you angry? Ruin your life? Make you hate everyone?
Hopefully not.
In another passage, Marcus would again write how inevitable is that he would bump into people who would betray his trust and act poorly: “The people I deal with today will be meddling, ungrateful, arrogant, dishonest, jealous, and surly.” What follows however, is remarkable, and what sets Marcus apart. He says, “I have seen the beauty of good, and the ugliness of evil, and have recognized that the wrongdoer has a nature related to my own—not of the same blood or birth, but the same mind, and possessing a share of the divine.” One can presume that such thoughts have been running through his head when dealing with Cassius.
The above post is adapted with permission from The Obstacle Is the Way, the cult Stoic classic (authored by Ryan Holiday) with over 500,000 copies sold.
Source: The Daily Stoic newsletter (https://dailystoic.com/stoic-response-betrayal/)
Marcus Aurelius Antoninus (121–180) was Roman emperor from 161 to 180 and a Stoic philosopher. He was a member of the Nerva–Antonine dynasty, the last of the rulers later known as the Five Good Emperors and the last emperor of the Pax Romana, an age of relative peace, calm, and stability for the Roman Empire lasting from 27 BC to 180 AD. Marcus acquired the reputation of a philosopher king within his lifetime, and the title would remain after his death. While on campaign between 170 and 180, Marcus wrote the famous Meditations in Greek as a source for his own guidance and self-improvement. He had a logical mind, and his notes were representative of Stoic philosophy and spirituality. Meditations is still revered as a literary monument to a government of service and duty. The historian Herodian wrote: “Alone of the emperors, he gave proof of his learning not by mere words or knowledge of philosophical doctrines but by his blameless character and temperate way of life.”
Stoicism is a school of Hellenistic philosophy that flourished in Ancient Greece and Ancient Rome. The Stoics believed that the practice of virtue is enough to achieve eudaimonia: a well-lived life. The Stoics identified the path to achieving it with a life spent practicing the four virtues in everyday life—wisdom, courage, temperance or moderation, and justice—as well as living in accordance with nature. It was founded in the ancient Agora of Athens by Zeno of Citium around 300 BCE. Alongside Aristotle’s ethics, the Stoic tradition forms one of the major founding approaches to virtue ethics. The Stoics are especially known for teaching that “virtue is the only good” for human beings, and that external things, such as health, wealth, and pleasure, are not good or bad in themselves (adiaphora) but have value as “material for virtue to act upon”.
Image: A postage stamp issued by Slovakia (central Europe) in 2021 to commemorate the 1900th birth anniversary of ancient Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius. Courtesy Pravda.