Cicero, who disliked or envied them almost equally, although reserving his deepest dislike and, indeed, fear for Caesar, recognized that such an autocracy could nullify the Senate’s power. Yet it cannot be overemphasized that Cicero’s dream republic had never existed in his own lifetime, if indeed ever. As a “new man,” one who was born neither noble nor rich, Cicero often seems like any middle-class man of great ability who has made his way to the top and is then captured by the glamour of his new associates—the old aristocrats who were born into positions of power as were their ancestors before them. On the one hand he saw the old order, men descended from the great days of the Republic, and on the other cynical self-seekers determined on personal power to the detriment of everything fine and noble. But, as Michael Grant has pointed out, things were not so simple:

 

The “free” republic that was now being superseded was not a democracy, and never had been. It had long been run by tough, unprogressive and dishonest cliques, whose incompetence to govern the large empire was now painfully clear. These cliques were now replaced by a board of three, who were exceptionally able men, and for the time being were united in their aims. In the end, they were destined to fail, because their unity could not be maintained. Yet their noble enemies would have failed as well—and for the same reason, because they would inevitably have become divided among themselves.

 

At the beginning of 59 Caesar and Bibulus assumed office, and it was not long before the antagonism between these two irreconcilable men became evident for all to see. At first, however, Caesar made it appear as if there had never been any differences of opinion between them and spoke blandly of the need to act only for the general good and in agreement with the senate. If, as one must presume, this was designed to reassure Bibulus and, on the surface at any rate, to make it look as if the two consuls were reconciled then he seems at first to have succeeded. Each consul was normally required to take precedence over the other for alternate months (since they were equal), and Caesar was meticulous in conforming to this ritual and to the formal technicalities that went with it. Similarly he pleased the senate by having an official record made of their daily transactions—something which had only been done before on special occasions. This naturally gratified their vanity and reassured Bibulus and the Optimates whom he represented that Caesar, now that he was consul, would conform. But the leopard does not change his spots and, as Appian remarks, “Caesar was very well versed in the art of hypocrisy.”

He needed to lull the suspicions of his opponents, for he knew that his first major action was certain to go completely against the grain of the old aristocrats. This was the land-bill for the resettlement of Pompey’s veterans, one of the things that he had promised his fellow triumvir, as well as the ratification of the settlements that Pompey had made in the East. A new agrarian law was badly needed, in any case, for great areas of Italy were uncultivated while a city like Rome was full of idle hands living, as it were, on the dole. A commission was to be put in charge of the distribution of the land and the cost would be defrayed by Pompey’s wealth from the East, as well as by the revenues from the new provinces that he had won. Realizing that such important an act as the redistribution of the state lands of Italy would cause a shudder to run through the ranks of the conservatives, Caesar wisely made a very necessary concession—that the rich southern lands of Campania should be excluded. Furthermore, not only would Pompey’s veterans be satisfied, but the poor from the city would also be entitled to land-grants. All in all, it was a judicious piece of legislation and Caesar was very careful to treat the senate with formal deference, inviting every senator to make criticisms of or suggestions for the draft, even to the extent of canceling anything that did not seem right. Most of the senators, who had been expecting Caesar to treat them in a high-handed, authoritarian way, were embarrassed by the scrupulosity with which the bill was presented.

They hated it of course, because it was contrary to their interests, but they had difficulty in finding arguments against something which was clearly to the benefit of the country (and all the time they must have been aware of the threat posed by Pompey’s disbanded soldiers). Cato had the courage of his convictions, however, and stood out against the whole bill, maintaining that people should be content with the constitution of the republic as it was. He attempted to talk out the bill, but Caesar, using his consular powers, had him placed under arrest. This high-handed action, though it was quite legitimate, caused those senators who would have liked to speak against the redistribution of land to walk out of the senate, one of them shouting at Caesar: “I would rather be in jail with Cato than here with you.” The consul realized that he had overstepped the mark and had Cato released; he did not want to create a martyr.

The upshot was that—as there was no senatorial decree—Caesar took the whole matter to the popular assembly. The senators who opposed him had offered no constructive proposals on land reform, and therefore the people must decide. But he was clever enough to give the old guard one last chance to define their objections to the bill as it stood and invited Bibulus, as his fellow consul, to the popular assembly to say what he had against it, entreating him to give his objections to the bill, or to state any changes he would like made. Everything depended on Bibulus, he told the people, to which the unwise consul replied: “You are not going to get it—not even if you all want it!”

Caesar had trapped him into betraying the real position of the Optimates: total conservatism in their own interest, and the devil take the people! Having thus exposed his enemies in the senate, Caesar had yet a further trick up his sleeve. Both Crassus and Pompey addressed the popular assembly in the Forum and declared their complete assent to the land-bill as it stood. This was the moment of truth—especially for the senators.