Cato’s proposal in 55 BC to surrender Caesar to the German tribes has been described as ‘too well-known to need recounting’Footnote 1 and often receives no more than a footnote in modern accounts.Footnote 2 As a result, it has not been given the attention it deserves or even fully understood,Footnote 3 despite the fact that most scholars – including Caesar’s admirer MommsenFootnote 4 – acknowledge the justice of Cato’s complaint. This paper re-examines the episode on a technical footing. It may have been political animosity and moral outrage at the massacre of so many Usipetes and Tencteri that prompted Cato’s action, but it was the technical and religious nature of his allegations that meant they could not be ignored. What Cato proposed was the deditio (surrender) of Caesar on the grounds that he had committed a breach of faith, whether breach of truce and/or mistreatment of ambassadors (or similar). To illuminate this, I explore the nature of deditio and its connection with fides publica; its function, I suggest, was both religious and ethical. Next, I argue that Caesar’s account of his dealings with the Usipetes and Tencteri (BG 4.7-15) responds directly to Cato’s allegations, and does so within particular constraints imposed by the nature of deditio. While Cato’s proposal was obviously political, the fact that Caesar felt compelled to respond suggests it should not be dismissed simply as Catonian histrionics.
I
The background to this episode is the ‘German war’ narrated in Book 4 of Caesar’s Gallic Wars, which ended (as Caesar frankly records) in a massacre of the Usipetes and Tencteri after their leaders had been detained in Caesar’s camp. The fullest account of the aftermath in Rome is in Plutarch’s Cato Minor (51.1-2), although mistakenly placed after Cato’s consular campaign in 52:Footnote 5
. . . Γερμανοῖς δὲ καὶ σπονδῶν γενομένων δοκοῦντος ἐπιθέσθαι καὶ καταβαλεῖν τριάκοντα μυριάδας, οἱ μὲν ἄλλοι τὸν δῆμον ἠξίουν εὐαγγέλια θύειν, ὁ δὲ Κάτων ἐκέλευεν ἐκδιδόναι τὸν Καίσαρα τοῖς παρανομηθεῖσι, καὶ μὴ τρέπειν εἰς αὑτοὺς μηδ' ἀναδέχεσθαι τὸ ἄγος εἰς τὴν πόλιν. (2) ‘οὐ μὴν ἀλλὰ καὶ τοῖς θεοῖς’ ἔφη ‘θύωμεν, ὅτι τῆς τοῦ στρατηγοῦ μανίας καὶ ἀπονοίας τὴν δίκην εἰς τοὺς στρατιώτας οὐ τρέπουσιν, ἀλλὰ φείδονται τῆς πόλεως.’
. . . when it was believed that [Caesar] had attacked the Germani while a truce was in place and killed 300,000, the rest thought it appropriate that the people should offer sacrifices for good tidings, but Cato urged them to surrender Caesar to those he had wronged, and not turn upon themselves or allow the city to suffer the pollution. ‘But indeed let us sacrifice to the gods,’ he said, ‘because they are not turning the penalty for the general’s frenzy and madness upon the soldiers, but are sparing the city.’
The corresponding account in the Life of Caesar (22.4), where it is correctly placed in 55, makes clear that this debate occurred in the senate. The story is found also in the comparatio of Nicias and Crassus (4.3) and in Appian’s Celtica (18). Suetonius’ notice confirms that what was proposed was deditio.Footnote 6 Suetonius does not name Cato, but nonnulli suggests that he had some support, if only from his own circle. The ultimate source for Plutarch’s and Appian’s accounts, and probably Suetonius’ as well, is Tanusius Geminus,Footnote 7 a contemporary of Cato and Caesar, and possibly an eye-witness to the debate in the senate.Footnote 8 He appears to have treated Cato’s proposal and its aftermath in some detail, and in a manner highly critical of Caesar,Footnote 9 but there is no reason to doubt the basic outline of what must have been a well-known episode.Footnote 10
Deditio, in this context, was the surrender of a Roman citizen to an enemy who had been wronged. It was a religious rather than a legal process, involving a vote by the senate and a decision by the fetial priests, who would then deliver the guilty party to the enemy bound in chains.Footnote 11 The wrong in question was a breach of fides. We hear of deditio carried out for violation of treaties, truces, and the rights of ambassadors, all of which were founded on good faith.Footnote 12 Two of five Roman stories in Valerius Maximus’ chapter De Fide Publica concern deditio (6.6.3, 5). The connection between deditio and fides is reflected also in the jurisdiction of the fetials: Varro calls them guardians of fides publica in international relations.Footnote 13
The basis of Cato’s proposal in 55 was that Caesar had committed a breach of fides against the Usipetes and Tencteri. The exact nature of the alleged breach is less clear.Footnote 14 Plutarch (Cat. Min. 51.1) says explicitly that Caesar was thought to have attacked while a truce was in place (σπονδῶν γενομένων); elsewhere he uses παρασπόνδημα,Footnote 15 which can mean either breach of truce or breach of faith more generally.Footnote 16 Appian refers to ‘an unholy deed against those who had sent ambassadors’.Footnote 17 In addition, Caesar’s account suggests that he was accused of violating the ius legatorum.Footnote 18 On balance, it seems likely that Cato made a variety of allegations against Caesar,Footnote 19 including mistreating ambassadors and attacking during a truce, or at any rate during negotiations, to which similar rules applied.Footnote 20 Any of the above amounted to a breach of fides and thus grounds for deditio.Footnote 21
The purpose of deditio was to spare the city from divine punishment for the wrong by surrendering the individual responsible.Footnote 22 Thus Livy’s fetial says to the Samnites, in the aftermath of the Caudine Forks disaster, ‘I surrender these men to you, that the Roman people may be freed from an impious crime,’Footnote 23 namely, repudiation of treaty arrangements which had been made without authorisation. Cicero states the same principle in the pro Caecina, delivered about fifteen years before Cato’s proposal: ut religione civitas solvatur, civis Romanus deditur.Footnote 24 In other words, deditio is fundamentally religious: the wrong in question, while committed against an enemy, was an offence against the gods, and it is the gods’ wrath that is to be averted. The process is expiatory or purgative rather than punitive.Footnote 25 Actions that were grounds for deditio might also be grounds for legal proceedings, but the two are conceptually distinct and – importantly, in Caesar’s case – the defences available in a criminal court did not apply within the religious framework of deditio.Footnote 26
Cato appears to have made much of the religious aspect.Footnote 27 According to Plutarch, Cato ‘declared his opinion that Caesar must be surrendered to the barbarians, thus purging the city of pollution for the breach of faith and turning the curse upon the guilty man.’Footnote 28 Indeed, Plutarch reports that Cato proposed an alternative supplicatio ‘because [the gods] are not turning the penalty for the general’s frenzy and madness upon the soldiers, but are sparing the city.’Footnote 29 The use of the present tense is significant: Romans were traditionally wary of ‘delayed’ punishment.Footnote 30 A breach of fides created the threat of future harm to Rome; deditio (like an ‘expiatory’ supplicatio) was a means of averting that harm. Thus, while Caesar might claim his victories as evidence of the gods’ approval,Footnote 31 at the same time it was no obstacle to Cato’s proposal that he had, so far, enjoyed only success. Indeed, Caesar used the same argument elsewhere, telling Divico in Book 1 of the Gallic War that ‘the immortal gods are accustomed to grant those they wish to punish for their wickedness a more favourable state of affairs in the meantime and a lengthy impunity, that they may suffer more gravely from their change of circumstances.’Footnote 32
A useful illustration of the nature of deditio is the famous case of C. Hostilius Mancinus (cos. 137) in 136. Mancinus was actually handed over to the Numantines after the senate refused to endorse an unfavourable treaty he had made. Although the treaty was not technically binding on Rome, as it had not been ratified, nonetheless Mancinus had created an obligation, the breach of which would be a breach of fides and an offence against the gods.Footnote 33 Therefore, to avoid both the treaty obligations and divine punishment, Mancinus was offered up essentially as a scapegoat for the Roman state.Footnote 34
Mancinus’ failure in Numantia was itself an example of delayed divine punishment for breach of fides. Its roots lay in the treaty made by Q. Pompeius (cos. 141) a few years earlier, which the senate had disregarded.Footnote 35 As Rosenstein shows, Mancinus argued that his defeat was the result of divine anger over the earlier neglect of Pompeius’ treaty.Footnote 36 Reports of adverse omens accompanying Mancinus’ departure for Spain were perhaps invented by Mancinus’ supporters after the fact to support their argument.Footnote 37 At any rate, the senate accepted this interpretation and in 136 bills were proposed for the deditio of Pompeius as well as Mancinus and his officers:Footnote 38 Pompeius to atone for the earlier wrong and Mancinus as a preventive measure.
II
Cases like Pompeius’ and Mancinus’ were solid precedents for Cato’s proposal.Footnote 39 Eighty years had passed since Mancinus was conducted to Numantia in chains, but the affair was well known – it is mentioned in Cicero’s de oratore, written the year that Cato made his proposal,Footnote 40 and Mancinus himself had commissioned a statue commemorating his surrender.Footnote 41 Other evidence shows general awareness in the late Republic of deditio as an appropriate remedy when Romans mistreated foreigners,Footnote 42 and it is possible there were more recent examples. The Digest records a responsum of Q. Mucius Scaevola (cos. 95) concerning the deditio of persons who had mistreated ambassadors.Footnote 43 Indeed, there is evidence that deditio had been discussed in the senate very shortly before Cato made his proposal. Gelzer adduces the important evidence of Cicero’s in Pisonem, delivered a few months earlier.Footnote 44 In the speech, Cicero charged Caesar’s father-in-law, L. Calpurnius Piso (cos. 58), with crimes similar to those Cato subsequently alleged against Caesar, including the mistreatment of foreigners and nefarium bellum.Footnote 45 In Piso’s case, Cicero could already point to the consequences: he describes the plague which had afflicted Piso’s army as divine retribution for the general’s actions.
This passage should be read with Cicero’s comments on Piso in de haruspicum responso, delivered in 56.Footnote 46 The haruspices had attributed an ominous rumbling noise to various misdeeds, including the murder of ambassadors.Footnote 47 This was likely an allusion to the murder of the Alexandrian ambassadors who had come to Rome to oppose the restoration of Ptolemy Auletes,Footnote 48 but Cicero asserts that Piso, too, ‘had polluted the name of the Roman people with so great an evil that it cannot be expiated other than by the sacrifice (supplicium) of the perpetrator’.Footnote 49 He is referring to the death of the Macedonian ambassador Plator, reportedly murdered on Piso’s orders. Supplicium here might suggest deditio, while the rumbling sound hinted at divine punishment if Rome failed to act. Cicero’s comments were politically motivated,Footnote 50 and he did not go so far as actually to propose deditio, but his line of attack shows that the ius legatorum (and its divine sanctions) had political cache around the time of Cato’s proposal.
I am not suggesting there was any real likelihood that the senate would have voted to surrender a victorious general to the enemy. Cicero attests Cato’s propensity for extreme but ultimately fruitless pronouncements,Footnote 51 and this one probably went no further than his own sententia.Footnote 52 Yet, closer consideration suggests that he had identified a weak spot and attacked it through an accepted and well-precedented avenue, the religious and technical nature of which made it potentially more dangerous to Caesar than conventional criminal or political allegations. Perhaps Cato thought it was worth a try, though more likely his strategy was to draw critical attention to Caesar’s activities – that is, his methods as well as his achievements – with a view to a future trial.Footnote 53 Cato repeatedly threatened to prosecute Caesar as soon as he laid down his imperium, probably for maiestas.Footnote 54 It is worth reiterating, however, that deditio was a completely separate institution, religious rather than legal and not dependent on the decision of a court (or vice versa). That the deditio proposal in itself was a blow to Caesar’s dignitas is suggested by his response: a letter to the senate, denouncing Cato in terms of the highest invective.Footnote 55 Moreover, Plutarch observes that Crassus’ Parthian war would have been judged very differently if he had enjoyed Caesar’s success.Footnote 56 Cato’s proposal, too, might have been received differently if Caesar had failed in Gaul.Footnote 57 Indeed, it is likely Caesar came under greater pressure to justify his actions following Ambiorix’s revolt in 54-3.Footnote 58
Cato might also have hoped to produce a reaction among Caesar’s subordinates.Footnote 59 Caesar himself reports the difficulty he experienced in 58 when his officers spread fear and disobedience among the soldiers.Footnote 60 According to Dio, the officers were motivated not only by fear of the enemy, but by their concern ‘that they were undertaking a war neither proper nor authorised on account of Caesar’s personal ambition’.Footnote 61 Caesar does not mention this aspect explicitly, but his speech to the centurions in Book 1 seems to confirm the existence of moral unease about the war they were fighting.Footnote 62 It is likely these misgivings were stirred up by Caesar’s opponents in Rome, Cato among them.Footnote 63 Indeed, a little further on, Caesar suggests that the ‘nobiles and principes of the Roman people’ were actually in league with Ariovistus.Footnote 64 Although on this occasion Caesar was able to reassure his soldiers (BG 1.41.1), presumably the potential for trouble remained if he were thought to have acted criminally.
Even viewed as a political stunt, however, Cato’s proposal tells us something about the standards of conduct to which Caesar had to be seen to measure up. Such an attack could only be made with reference to communally agreed principles – here, the ethics of war and the framework of state religion.Footnote 65 In cases like those of Mancinus and of Sp. Postumius in 321, deditio was employed as a means of avoiding treaty obligations;Footnote 66 however, the institution was supposed to uphold moral standards. Cicero says in de officiis that the ius fetiale and many other laws common to all nations regulate dealings with enemies. ‘Were this not so,’ he adds, ‘the senate would never have delivered up illustrious men in chains to the enemy.’Footnote 67 In other words, a ‘code of conduct’ governed Roman dealings with foreigners,Footnote 68 and deditio was the guarantee of that code. Cato’s proposal should be understood in this light. His religious argument was perhaps somewhat cynically adopted,Footnote 69 but the same need not apply to the principles behind it. Throughout his career, Cato championed the cause of ethical conduct towards enemies and allies.Footnote 70 By proposing in the senate that Caesar should be handed over to the enemy, he drew critical attention to the practice of Roman imperialism.Footnote 71 To this end, his proposal was probably more effective for its sensationalism.
III
The best indicator of the seriousness of Cato’s charges is Caesar’s own account of his dealings with the Usipetes and Tencteri in Book 4 of the Gallic War. The book ends with a notice of the twenty-day supplication decreed by the senate his rebus gestis.Footnote 72 If the commentaries were published in instalments, as seems most probable,Footnote 73 it will have been written and circulated not long afterwards. Moreover, Cicero attests frequent dispatches and messengers from Caesar publicising his achievements in Rome, so it is likely that Caesar’s version of events was disseminated promptly in one form or another.Footnote 74 Certainly his defensive tone in this part of Book 4 suggests a more-or-less immediate response to criticism of his actions. Even if written later, however, I argue that Caesar is (in part) responding specifically to Cato’s charges in 55.Footnote 75
Though often remarked upon for its frankness, scholars have noted apologetic tendencies in the Gallic War, and Book 4 has attracted considerable attention in this regard.Footnote 76 Here I focus specifically on what I take to be Caesar’s response to the deditio proposal, as opposed to the justification of the ‘German war’ more generally,Footnote 77 or his ‘defence in advance’ against any future legal challenge.Footnote 78Deditio required special treatment, since the sort of defence that was available against criminal charges – that he had acted out of necessity or rei publicae causa Footnote 79 – did not apply against the religious offence constituted by a breach of fides. One could hardly bring divine vengeance upon the state for the sake of the state! Thus Caesar’s statements about the unreliability of the Gauls and the need for swift action are not strictly relevant.Footnote 80 Instead, he was obliged to refute Cato’s allegations on the facts, and that, I think, accounts for the vagueness and literary sleight of hand detectable at points in Book 4.Footnote 81 Naturally Caesar could not hope to change Cato’s mind, but his response might well have persuaded senators not firmly committed either to himself or to Cato.Footnote 82
First, breach of truce:Footnote 83 since our evidence is essentially Caesar’s word against Cato’s, it is useful to compare Book 4 with Caesar’s earlier account of the conference with Ariovistus. In Book 1 Caesar describes in detail the exchange of ambassadors (legati), the negotiations for a conference (conloquium), the conditions agreed upon to ensure the leaders’ safety, and Ariovistus’ abuse of the conloquium to attack the Roman troops (1.34-5, 42-6). Caesar does not precisely say that Ariovistus had violated the agreement, but he draws a pointed contrast with his own good faith, explaining that he ordered his men not to retaliate, so the enemy could not claim that they had been entrapped per fidem in conloquio (1.46.3).
In Book 4, by contrast, Caesar seems deliberately vague about what was actually agreed.Footnote 84 At the initial meeting (4.9), the German envoys request a delay (mora) in hostilities.Footnote 85 Caesar replies that he cannot grant the request.Footnote 86 When the envoys return, they again ask Caesar not to proceed further and, when he refuses, they ask that he instruct his cavalry not to open hostilities (4.11.1-3). They also request an interval (spatium) of three days in which to send an embassy to the Ubii (4.11.3) – that is, a truce (indutiae), as Caesar makes clear in the following chapter.Footnote 87 Caesar states that the envoys’ real intention was to stall until their cavalry could return, but nonetheless ‘he said that he would proceed no further than four miles that day in search of water’Footnote 88 and sent messengers to instruct his cavalry not to provoke the enemy.Footnote 89 Finally, when the German leaders come to his camp after the cavalry engagement, Caesar says they proposed to excuse themselves for starting a battle ‘in contravention of what had been said and what they themselves had requested’ (contra atque esset dictum et ipsi petissent: 4.13.5).
Reading between the lines, these passages strongly suggest that Caesar had agreed to a truce. Plutarch thought so,Footnote 90 and the complacency of the Roman forces at the time of the cavalry engagement strengthens that conclusion.Footnote 91 Caesar, however, obscures both the existence and the nature of the agreement, despite the fact that he accuses the enemy of breaking it. Breach of truce was a serious allegation which we would expect Caesar to exploit in an account which consistently stresses the faithlessness of the enemy.Footnote 92 His failure to do so, eschewing the precision of Book 1 in favour of vague passive formulations like ‘what was said’ and ‘what had been sought’,Footnote 93 casts doubt on his own fides. After all, we have only Caesar’s word that it was the Germani who attacked first.Footnote 94 Cato, for one, thought otherwise, and probably with good reason: according to Caesar, the Germani attacked with just 800 cavalry against a Roman force of 5,000.Footnote 95 Moreover, if there had been a truce, which the enemy had broken, why not say so plainly – unless the latter point were in doubt?
The way Caesar handles the question of ambassadors is still more striking. Up until the cavalry battle, Caesar repeatedly refers to the German envoys as legati.Footnote 96 Subsequently, however, he denies them the status and even the name of ambassadors. Caesar signals this to the reader (but not to the enemyFootnote 97) when he writes that ‘he decided that neither should he now give audience to legati nor accept terms from those who, by deceit and snares, had sought peace, then made war unprovoked.’Footnote 98 This seems to mean that Caesar would not regard any Germani who subsequently came to him as legitimate ambassadors. Accordingly, the German leaders and elders who arrive next in Caesar’s camp are referred to not as legati but only as Germani frequentes, ‘a throng of Germani’.Footnote 99 Indeed, Caesar says that he had already decided to fight before they arrived.Footnote 100
The Germani were unarmed – Caesar would say so, if otherwiseFootnote 101 – and they surely would not have walked into Caesar’s camp unless they believed they were being received as ambassadors. Further, Caesar writes that they employed the same methods as before.Footnote 102 The natural conclusion is that these Germani, too, were ambassadors in everything but the name Caesar gives to them, and ought to have been inviolable, even if their motives were suspect. Again, it is useful to compare Book 1, where Ariovistus’ ambassadors remain legati, even after Ariovistus violated the conloquium.Footnote 103 Caesar refuses another conference on this basis, but he continues to refer to the messengers as legati and treats them as such. In Book 4, however, Caesar denies the Germani both the name and the rights of legati and detains them in his campFootnote 104 – which, according to Caesar himself, was a violation of the ius legatorum warranting the most serious punishment.Footnote 105
Another instructive comparison comes from Book 3, where Caesar turns his officers into ambassadors by an inverse manipulation of language.Footnote 106 The prefects and military tribunes of 3.7.3 appear, once detained by the Veneti, as inviolable legati.Footnote 107 The purpose, as Ando observes, is to justify Caesar’s treatment of the Veneti: he executed their senate and sold the rest into slavery as exemplary punishment, he says, for violation of the ius legatorum.Footnote 108 Caesar’s hypocrisy is not hard to spot; indeed, Powell suggests that Cato might have been turning Caesar’s own arguments against him in 55.Footnote 109
Not only does Caesar’s recasting of the German ambassadors in Book 4 strain credibility; in fact, the Germani frequentes came at his request. In chapter 11 Caesar instructs the Germani ‘to assemble the following day in full strength (frequentissimi), that he might learn what they were requesting’.Footnote 110 Some scholars have taken this to mean that Caesar was laying a trap.Footnote 111 At any rate, it was the following day (4.13.4) that the German leaders came to his camp, where he promptly had them detained. According to Dio, he did so by means of a further deceit.Footnote 112Neque iam sibi legatos audiendos (4.13.1), then, might refer not to any legati but specifically those legati whom Caesar had told to come to him.Footnote 113 Caesar claimed that the intervening cavalry attack justified his change of heart, but that was no excuse against a premeditated trap. If that is what it was, Caesar was guilty of bad faith at least as heinous as he alleges against the enemy.
What follows has the ring of a plan well executed: ‘Delighted they had come into his path (quos sibi Caesar oblatos gavisus), Caesar ordered them to be detained.’Footnote 114 Scholars have remarked on the extraordinary word gavisus.Footnote 115Offero is intriguing too: though not explicitly reflexive, it suggests that the Germani had, in a sense, offered themselves to Caesar.Footnote 116 In any case, he took full advantage of this ‘most convenient’ turn of events.Footnote 117 He massacred reportedly 400,000 or more of the enemy without losing one of this own men,Footnote 118 largely thanks to the absence of the leaders he had detained, as Caesar himself tells us (4.14.2). Yet he contrives that ‘[his] clementia has the last word’:Footnote 119 he freed those he had detained (his Caesar libertatem concessit: 4.15.5), but they chose to remain with him, out of fear of the Gauls.
IV
Caesar’s fides is doubtful at best. Perhaps for this reason, he emphasises the bad faith of the enemy, repeatedly and in powerful language: dolus, insidiae, perfidia, simulatio. He insists that they only requested a truce by way of a ploy (4.9, 11, 13) and were responsible for opening hostilities (4.12). Conveniently, we have only Caesar’s word for what the Germani thought or Caesar knew. But, even if we accept it, did bad faith on the part of the enemy excuse Caesar’s conduct?
Cicero’s de officiis indicates that there was some debate on this question.Footnote 120 The better view, however, was that a Roman acted in good faith irrespective of the fides of the enemy. That is the point of Valerius Maximus’ account of the deditio of L. Minucius and L. Manlius.Footnote 121 Similarly, Livy has Scipio declare that ‘although not only the fides of the truce but even the ius gentium with respect to ambassadors had been violated by the Carthaginians, he would take no steps against them unworthy of the institutions of the Roman people and his own mores.’Footnote 122 Appian makes the same point when he writes that Galba in Spain in 150 ‘was avenging bad faith with bad faith in a manner not worthy of Romans but imitating barbarians.’Footnote 123 In other words, traditional morality expected a Roman to show fides towards enemies, even if they acted in bad faith. That is what we would expect in view of the religious aspect of fides, and Cicero confirms that the principle held good in the late Republic.Footnote 124
Of course, that did not mean Caesar was obliged to observe a truce once it was broken,Footnote 125 but neither did (alleged) bad faith by the enemy entitle him to use the same sort of snares or to disregard the ius legatorum. In accounting for his treatment of the Usipetes and Tencteri, however, Caesar implies that a breach of faith by the enemy nullified the usual obligations of fides. He could not and does not claim that fides was unimportant – indeed, fides (or lack thereof) is central to Caesar’s presentation of the Germani – but rather that there was no duty of fides to the enemy in this case,Footnote 126 hence no breach and no grounds for deditio. In so doing, he is modifying the traditional moral code in favour of what Riggsby calls ‘the common moral logic of tit-for-tat’.Footnote 127 This technique stands in contrast to the overall programme of the work, where, as Riggsby argues, Caesar appeals to conventional standards of just war and the good general.Footnote 128 I submit that Caesar’s alternative logic in Book 4 should be seen as part of his response to Cato: as well as disputing Cato’s allegations on the facts, Caesar is actually rewriting the rules of fides.
Conclusion
Deditio, with its religious implications, was an acute choice of instrument. No one was really going to surrender Caesar to the enemy, yet he could not afford to ignore Cato’s challenge. Neither was invective an adequate response, nor military expediency, nor even the conventional rhetoric of just war; he had to answer Cato’s allegations on their own terms. In attempting to do so, Caesar is reduced to obfuscation and even to deformation of the accepted principles of fides publica. This layering of multiple strategies of justification reveals Caesar under pressure to explain his actions. Of course, the senate had voted not surrender but a supplication of unprecedented length, and probably most contemporaries were little interested in the justification of events that produced Roman victory.Footnote 129 Still, Cato’s protest was not without effect. He could not help the unfortunate Germani, but his actions in 55, as at other points in his career, served to keep the ethics of imperialism in the spotlight. Caesar’s careful response, even after the supplicatio had been voted, is a measure of Cato’s success.