The fruits are plentiful in this study of the uses to which Cicero’s thought was put in the Middle Ages, even if the reader is left unsure whether the author has accomplished his goal. That goal, writes Cary Nederman, is to “dislodge[ ] Aristotle from the pride of place accorded to him” in studies of European political thought during its earliest times—and at least to make Aristotle share the spotlight with Cicero (p. 2). Nederman wants “to elucidate quite diverse, and sometimes intellectually competing, receptions and adaptations of Cicero” (p. 5). He hastens to add that he “makes no pretense to track intellectual impact per se” (p. 6), but that statement comes shortly after a claim that Cicero’s “impact was far more pervasive” than Aristotle’s (p. 2). Does Nederman intend to leave that thesis unsupported by the evidence of his book?
The cause of that difficulty is Nederman’s adherence to the method of classical reception studies, which refuses to identify a philosopher’s thought as a single entity because uses of that thought always reflect the differing cultural developments of the users’ times. There is more than a whiff of historicism and relativism here, which Nederman wants to combat by denying that everyone who merely mentions Cicero’s name should be reckoned a follower of his philosophy. Try as he may, however, the method forces Nederman into an inconsistency, in addition to the one previously mentioned: he claims that he “does not propose to identify any ‘true’ or ‘essential’ precept that defines Ciceronianism from the twelfth to the sixteenth century” (p. 11), but chapter 1 is devoted to “a synopsis of the key Ciceronian doctrines that were widely adapted in early European texts” (p. 13).
It is fair, then, to criticize Nederman’s account of some of those doctrines. Apparently convinced that there must be a single Ciceronian theory of the origins of human society, he draws on various dialogues by Cicero without observing the varied purposes for which those dialogues were written. For example, On the Laws 1.29–30, which Nederman relies on, is part of a passage on natural law that the character Cicero describes as being “for the sake of strengthening republics,” yet involving “starting points that have not been well considered and diligently explored” (On the Laws 1.37). In other words, Cicero’s deepest reflections will likely not be found here. Concerning natural law, On Duties is an open letter from Cicero to his troublesome son—not the source from which one should expect the profoundest philosophy. It is inaccurate to suppose that reason and speech dominate all of Cicero’s different accounts of the origins of society: note the inspiring “bodily strength and fierceness of spirit” shown by Romulus, first king of Rome (On the Republic 2.4). And does Cicero always regard action as superior to contemplation? The famous dream of Scipio, in which those who contemplate reach heaven sooner than those who do not, suggests otherwise (On the Republic 6.33, ed. J. G. F. Powell [6.29, ed. Konrat Ziegler]).
In chapter 2, on twelfth-century appropriations of Cicero, Nederman’s careful reading of Thierry of Chartres demonstrates his similarity to, and difference from, Cicero. Rufinus follows Cicero on the need for legal systems and natural law. Nederman does not show a strong influence of Cicero on Otto of Freising. Regarding Aelred of Rievaulx, the influence of Cicero’s On Friendship is clear, but Nederman speculates on the importance of On Duties by citing only one passage from it. Moralium dogma philosophorum, by an unknown author, reflects clear influence from On Duties, and Nederman explains how the author avoids using Cicero on natural reason and law to make his points.
The better-known John of Salisbury is the subject of a cogent chapter 3. John is Ciceronian in a number of respects, and Nederman provides a sharp analysis of the extent to which his teaching on tyrannicide is indebted to Cicero.
Chapter 4 concerns four schoolmen connected with the University of Paris. Nederman finds Cicero responsible for the emphasis by Henry of Ghent on action over contemplation. But he exaggerates the reliance on Cicero by Ptolemy of Lucca: when Ptolemy writes that the body politic is “united by the chain of society, which is the love shared by its citizens,” he is drawing on Augustine’s revision of Cicero’s definition of “a people” (On the City of God 19.24), not on Cicero himself. It is interesting to see Ciceronian influence on both John of Paris and James of Viterbo, who, respectively, oppose and support absolute papal authority.
Nederman devotes the entire chapter 5 to Marsilius of Padua. His treatment of Marsilius on natural law is lacking. Within one sentence, Nederman moves from quoting a passage on quasi-natural law to claiming that Marsilius “spoke in the conclusion to Dictio [discourse] 1 of the same natural law as the basis for the obligation to do justice” (p. 118). How quickly Nederman dropped the “quasi” to oppose the view that Marsilius is a legal positivist! In discourse 2, Marsilius distinguishes two apparent meanings of natural right (ius naturale, which can also be translated as “natural law”; The Defender of the Peace 2.12.7–8, trans. Annabel Brett). Nederman recognizes that the first meaning (which need not concern us) is not really natural law, but he treats the second meaning—“the dictate of right reason in respect of things that can be done”—as Marsilius’s genuine view, when Marsilius immediately follows the definition by saying, “But in truth, the term ‘natural’ is used equivocally here.” Marsilius has no doctrine of natural law, and Nederman has not shown that he is as Ciceronian as Aristotelian.
Chapter 6 concerns Cicero’s influence on authors writing in French from the middle 1200s to the early 1400s. Brunetto Latini conflates Cicero and Christianity on ethical questions and friendship. Nicole Oresme uses Cicero to elaborate elements of Aristotelian thought. And Christine de Pizan follows Cicero on the origins of society, natural law, and (in a modified way) friendship.
Cicero could be used to support or to attack empire, Nederman demonstrates. In chapter 7 we learn that Engelbert of Admont borrows from Cicero to explain the proper use of violence to promote empire. Aeneas Silvius Piccolomini, defending the Holy Roman Empire, uses Cicero to advocate universalism while recognizing the tension in Cicero’s thought between universalism and localism. Nicholas of Cusa articulates a doctrine of natural law on behalf of empire. In chapter 8, Bartolomé de Las Casas takes from the character Cicero’s account of the oneness of humanity in On the Laws to argue for the equality of humans and to oppose imperial rule.
It is difficult to conclude that Nederman has proved his thesis because he admits that Cicero’s influence on Thomas Aquinas was limited, and he makes no argument that Aquinas is overrated, while he does briefly note the effect that Aquinas may have had on some others. Nevertheless, in showing that Cicero’s influence was greater than many have thought, Nederman has filled a gap in scholarship in a way that will please admirers of Cicero.
