In May 44 BC Cicero passed on a rumour that Cleopatra and ‘that Caesar of hers’ had died on the way back to Egypt, which he hoped was true. A month later he would write baldly, ‘I hate the queen’ (Reginam odio in the pithy Latin) and also complained about the behaviour of a courtier of hers called Ammonius. This had not prevented him from visiting the queen during Caesar’s lifetime and accepting the offer of gifts ‘that had to do with learning and not derogatory to my dignity’. That these presents had never materialised did much to feed his dislike and he railed at the ‘arrogance of the queen herself’. Cleopatra left agents behind in Rome to look after her interests and the outburst seems to have been prompted by a question of whether or not he would assist them. Rome was always full of men lobbying on behalf of rulers and communities and trying to persuade senators to support them.1
This short paragraph in a long letter dealing with many other things is the fullest mention of Cleopatra in all of Cicero’s correspondence or other writings. It rather misses the point to expound on the orator’s difficult relationships with women, as if explanation needs to be found as to why he did not like her. Far more significant is the fact that he mentions Cleopatra only briefly and on just a handful of occasions in 44 BC, and never again after that. If the queen had played any role in the developing power struggle at Rome, she would have figured far more prominently, even if the comments were hostile. For the moment, neither she nor Caesarion mattered enough to attract much concern, or even hatred, from leading Romans.2
Perhaps the journey back to Alexandria was eventful. Sea travel often proved dangerous in the ancient world and the threat of disease was ever present. If there were perils en route, then Cleopatra and her son survived them. So did her brother and consort, Ptolemy XIV, assuming that he had been with them in Rome, which seems most likely. Yet by the end of August 44 BC the teenage boy was dead. The Jewish historian Josephus, writing a century later, says that Cleopatra had him poisoned. His attitude to the queen was generally hostile, but in spite of this there is little reason to doubt the story. Most of the Ptolemies who met violent deaths did so at the behest of their own family. Still, it is just possible that the youth died of natural causes.3
If so, then the death was very convenient for Cleopatra. Serious rivals for the throne could only come from within the family, most of all from siblings. Caesar had confirmed brother and sister as joint rulers, perhaps because he understood that the sole rule of a queen was unlikely to be accepted and perhaps also to honour the spirit of Auletes’ will. With her Roman lover and protector alive, Cleopatra could be confident of controlling her consort. Now that Caesar was dead and Ptolemy XIV was growing to maturity – he was fifteen or sixteen – this was far less certain. There was a very real threat that influential courtiers and Alexandrian aristocrats would coalesce around the king and see increasing his power as the path to wealth and influence for themselves. Cleopatra had narrowly survived and prevailed in the struggle with Ptolemy XIII and can have had no wish to repeat the experience.
There would be nothing particularly unusual for the Ptolemies – or indeed any of the other Hellenistic dynasties and in later centuries Rome’s emperors – about the use of assassination in dynastic politics. His removal left Cleopatra and Arsinoe as the only surviving children of Auletes. The younger sister remained in comfortable captivity in the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus. She was a threat, and had already once proclaimed herself queen back in 48 BC, but for the moment a distant one, and anyway beyond Cleopatra’s reach. Arsinoe would need powerful backing to attempt a return to the kingdom and such support could only come from a Roman. This made it all the more important for Cleopatra’s agents to continue courting influential men at Rome, just as her father had done throughout his life. There were no doubt others there willing to speak and bribe on behalf of Arsinoe as well. In 44 BC Antony appears to have announced that the younger sister should be released and made ruler of Cyprus, although it is unclear whether anything had been done to implement this before his acts were abolished.4
Cleopatra knew that only Roman support could secure her own rule, and that nothing could guarantee this, especially as the Republic began to descend into civil war. Antony dominated, then seemed to fall, before emerging once again to control the Republic with the other triumvirs. Their power was based upon their military strength and the only thing that would supplant them would be superior force. This made the legions left in Egypt by Caesar a valuable asset to any ambitious Roman leader. At some point a fourth unit had joined the three stationed there in 47 BC, and Aulus Allienus had taken over command from Rufio, who disappears from our sources. Probably this was part of the preparations for the projected Parthian campaign. In the past these troops had bolstered Cleopatra’s rule. Now their very presence was a danger, risking direct involvement in Rome’s civil war.5
When Dolabella sent a messenger to Alexandria asking the queen to send the legions to him, it may almost have been a relief and she readily obeyed. This was probably early in 43 BC. Dolabella had taken a long time before going to his province of Syria, and the delay allowed Cassius to get there first and rally support. Fighting had already broken out following a mutiny of some of the legions stationed in the province, which two of Caesar’s governors had struggled to suppress. Both sides now buried their differences and joined Cassius. Allienus had not heard of this when he led his army into the province. Taken unawares, and faced with eight legions to his own four, he surrendered and his troops defected to Cassius. There seems to have been very little enthusiasm for serving under Dolabella, as well as a desire to be on the strongest side, even if it was led by one of the conspirators. When he finally arrived, Dolabella was besieged in Laodicia, but could not hold out and committed suicide before the garrison surrendered in the summer of 43BC.6
Cleopatra had obeyed the instructions of a consul of the Republic and quite probably had been glad to assist a man fighting against one of Caesar’s murderers. Yet the latter had won and was unlikely to be well disposed towards her. The legions gone, she had only a small force of mercenaries left under her control. This might be sufficient to control minor internal unrest, but would be pathetically inadequate to meet any invasion by a Roman army.7
Fortunately, Cassius was busy, as he and Brutus prepared for the inevitable confrontation with the triumvirs, and had no time to go to Egypt. Instead, he demanded support in the form of money, grain and warships. Cleopatra stalled, pleading a succession of bad harvests that made it impossible for her to give him what he wanted immediately. Soon, she would have heard of the emergence of Antony, Octavian and Lepidus at Rome, of the declaration of Brutus and Cassius as public enemies, and the triumvirate’s pledge to avenge Caesar. All of this must have been welcome and convinced her that it was better to resist Cassius and support the triumvirs. This made sense if she expected them to win, since she would want the victors to confirm her in power. The pragmatic politics of survival probably combined with natural hatred of the men who had murdered her lover. For the moment, she could not openly declare her allegiance and continued to promise to aid Cassius, just not at that time.
The conspirator soon grew suspicious and directly sent instructions to Serapion, Cleopatra’s governor of Cyprus – andjust possibly the same man used as an ambassador by Caesar in the Alexandrian War. This official readily obeyed, independently of the queen. Cassius controlled Ephesus and he seems to have decided to make use of Arsinoe, perhaps giving her back nominal rule of Cyprus itself. This was a threat to Cleopatra and might force her to agree to his demands. If not, then in due course she could be replaced by her more pliant sister.
Cleopatra prepared a squadron of warships just as Cassius had requested. However, in 42 BC she led them in person, not to help the conspirators, but to join up with the triumvirs, who had at last launched their offensive. It was a bold move, unusual for a female monarch, although in some ways less surprising from the woman who had in 48 BC raised an army and invaded Egypt to seize back her throne from her brother. Yet courage and confidence do not in themselves bring fortune or success. Her earlier invasion of Egypt had bogged down into stalemate. This time the weather took a hand and many of the warships were wrecked in a storm. Cleopatra herself fell ill. Perhaps it was seasickness, but since she had travelled by sea before, most likely it was something more serious.
The battered remnants of the expedition eventually trailed back to Alexandria. Undaunted, Cleopatra ordered the construction of new warships to replace the losses. In the event, the war was decided before she could take part. The contribution of Egypt was a tiny, almost insignificant part of the struggle between the huge armies led by the conspirators and triumvirs. Yet the cost to Cleopatra was considerable at a time of economic hardship and once again the silver content of her coins was reduced. Standing aside would not have endeared her to whoever won, and Arsinoe was there as a viable alternative to be imposed by Roman force. Cleopatra needed to gamble on doing enough to win the favour of the victors, without provoking their opponents so badly that she did not survive the war.8
Surviving, and still more profiting from the struggles within the Roman Republic was a delicate balancing act, made harder as alliances changed. At different times both Antony and Cassius were willing to take power from Cleopatra and give it to Arsinoe. It was not until the end of 43 BC that the civil war became more firmly a conflict between Caesar’s supporters and the conspirators.
ISIS AND HORUS
As well as coping with the unpredictable threats and opportunities offered by Rome’s internal conflict, Cleopatra had the ever-present task of maintaining her rule in her own kingdom. After the death of Ptolemy XIV, she did not attempt to reign as sole monarch, but straight away took Caesarion as co-ruler. Still an infant, the boy was completely under his mother’s control, a situation likely to last at least until he became an adult and married. For the moment, the kingdom had both a king and a queen, and there was no danger of separate and rival factions emerging around mother and son. Caesarion was sole heir, offering the prospect of long-term stability for the regime. Cleopatra had no husband, and as far as we can tell took no lovers, so that there would not be any other children and potential rivals. The aristocracy in Alexandria and the members of the royal court had little alternative but to accept the current regime, at least for the moment.9
The long years of disruption during Auletes’ reign and the disputes between Cleopatra and her siblings had badly damaged the administration and infrastructure of the kingdom. Royal projects, such as maintaining the irrigation systems, had been neglected. When the inundations were poor each year from 43 to 41 BC, this neglect made the situation worse. Cleopatra was being no more than truthful when she told Cassius that the harvests were bad. As usual, the royal administration attempted to manage the situation, employing the food stores from past levies and the current taxation. Hunger could readily prompt unrest. Like most administrations in the ancient world, Cleopatra’s government were especially careful to placate the wealthier classes and the populations of the main cities. Volatile Alexandria was not to go short of food, although Josephus claims that the Jewish community there did suffer. Significantly, royal officials were also warned not to extract too high a levy from the tenants of the great landowners.10
As far as possible, Cleopatra tried to keep all of the different communities living in her kingdom content to accept her rule. An inscription survives from this period confirming the right to asylum of fugitives taking refuge in a synagogue at Leontopolis, a town with a sizeable Jewish settlement. The text is in Greek, apart from the last line, which is in Latin and says, ‘The queen and king have given the order.’ Even after the legions had left, a good proportion of the mercenaries serving as soldiers and policemen were probably Romans, lured by comfortable conditions and generous pay, just as Gabinius’ men had been in the past.11
There is some suggestion that regional officials were given considerable freedom in these years, probably continuing the policy of Auletes. Inscriptions celebrate the achievements of Callimachus, a strategos in the Thebiad, and make only the briefest mention of the king and queen. Cleopatra’s government may also have introduced a new style of decree, the decision given royal approval by a simple ‘let it be so’ (ginestho in Greek). These were sent to senior officials, whose task it then was to copy them and send them round to all the relevant officials.12
Money was short, but just like her father Cleopatra continued to be generous to the temple cults of the kingdom, cultivating the most important part of the native population. She completed work on the great temple of the goddess Hathor and her son Ihy at Dendera. Its southern, rear wall was covered in reliefs depicting Cleopatra and Caesarion in traditional regalia making an offering to the two deities of the temple and other important gods. ‘Ptolemy Caesar’stands tall and in front of his mother, holding out a gift of incense, while she shakes the sistrum, the sacred rattle used in the rites of the goddess Isis. Artistically at least, traditions are maintained, the pharaoh and his female counterpart fulfil their roles as the representatives of the gods on earth, the direct link with heaven, ensuring that order prevails over chaos and Maat is preserved.
Temple building gave work to the construction force, honour and status to the cult involved and its priesthood, and provided grand monuments celebrating the regime. Soon after Cleopatra returned from Rome, work seems to have begun on a grand ‘birth-temple’ for Caesarion at Hermonthis. Such structures had a tradition stretching back into the distant past. This one was considerably larger than was normal, and was also unusual in that it does not seem to have been closely associated with an existing temple. Sadly, the structure no longer survives, having been demolished and replaced with a sugar processing plant in the middle of the nineteenth century, but fortunately a few photographs and more extensive drawings were made before this occurred.
One relief showed multiple scenes of childbirth, and some or all may represent Cleopatra herself. She is described in hieroglyphs as ‘The female Horus, the great one, the mistress of perfection, brilliant in counsel, the mistress of the Two Lands, Cleopatra, the goddess who loves her father’. Elsewhere, she is also named ‘the image of her father’, although on this section the cartouche was left blank and not filled in with her name. Being known as the female Horus was a clear indication of rule – for kings were the representatives of Horus on earth – and yet Cleopatra never receives all the titles of a pharaoh.13
At face value, tradition seems very much alive in the temple cults supported by Cleopatra. If anything, there seems to have been more revivals of very ancient practices, imagery and titles during her reign. It is also possible to see echoes of the ancient cults in the queen’s own life. Just as her father had been the ‘New Dionysus’, Cleopatra styled herself the ‘New Isis’; just as Dionysus had grown from a god of wine into a much more powerful and all-encompassing great god of victory and prosperity, so too the Egyptian goddess Isis had changed into an international cult. There was a temple to her at Athens in the fourth century BC and during Cleopatra’s lifetime there were determined, but unsuccessful attempts made to suppress her cult in Rome itself.
We know much more about Isis as a goddess worshipped by Greeks and other foreigners than in her Egyptian form. Plutarch, whose biography of Antony is such an important source for Cleopatra’s life as well as his own, elsewhere provided the longest account of the Isis story. Sister and wife of Osiris, they were children of the Sky goddess. Osiris and Isis ruled Egypt as king and queen, teaching the people how to grow crops and prosper, to follow laws and worship the gods. However, their jealous brother Seth murdered Osiris. After considerable adventures, Isis found her husband’s body in a distant land, but as she brought him back to Egypt, Seth stole it away, chopped the corpse into pieces and flung them to the winds. Helped by Anubis, the jackal-headed god of the dead, Isis found all the fragments – apart from the penis, which had fallen into the Nile and been consumed by fish. She sewed the pieces together, fabricated a new penis and breathed life back into her husband’s body. They made love and in due course she gave birth to their son Horus. Osiris then left the land of the living to rule the world of the dead. Isis protected the boy until he grew old enough and was able to overthrow his wicked uncle. Mother and son then ruled Egypt.14
It is hard to know how far Egyptians would have recognised Plutarch’s version of the story or, indeed, even be sure that most Greek worshippers of Isis believed the same myth. Few ancient religions had clearly developed and universally accepted theology or even traditions. Cults varied from region to region, and the same deity was often perceived and presented in very different ways although given the same name. Greek settlers in Egypt had equated the local divinities with familiar gods and goddesses, worshipping them in their own way, while the native population persisted in their traditional beliefs. In Egypt and elsewhere, for the Greeks Isis expanded to take on attributes of Athena, Demeter and Aphrodite –wisdom, fertility, law, as mother and as wife, as source of rebirth and resurrection with the promise of an afterlife. Finding Osiris a little too alien, the Ptolemies devised a new consort for her, in the god Serapis. Egyptians never seem to have adopted the new god, but his worship was common amongst the Greeks in Egypt and spread abroad through association with the popular Isis. The Isis cult seemed exotic to Greeks and Romans alike, with its shaven-headed priests, sistrum rattles, dramatic rituals and deeply emotional experiences. It had the appeal of ancient and faraway wisdom, even if it may well have borne little resemblance to the traditional cult of Egypt.
We cannot say whether Cleopatra chose to associate herself with Isis because it made practical sense to become the personification of such a powerful and popular deity or for more personal, emotional reasons. Perhaps it was a mixture of the two. To be born a Ptolemy set someone apart from the rest of humanity, for they were divine and successors to Alexander the Great. If she did genuinely feel herself to be Isis, it would surely have been in some variant of the Greek perception of the goddess. The traditional imagery at Dendera, Hermonthis and other shrines was conventional, changing little over the centuries. It did not mean an active participation in the cults by the monarch – something especially unlikely for the infant Caesarion. Temples were not churches regularly attended by great congregations, but sacred houses for the gods, entered only by the priests as part of the perpetual cycle of rites. If some very old formulae and images were revived under Cleopatra, the initiative is most likely to have come from the priestly cults, given money and royal favour and permitted to oversee the rituals as they saw fit.
The Isis story of a murdered husband and the infant son who needed protection until he matured and could face the killer had a parallel in Cleopatra’s own life. As she was Isis, Caesar could be the dead Osiris or Serapis, and Caesarion would be Horus. Yet apart from the name Ptolemy Caesar, there is no allusion to Cleopatra’s murdered lover in any of the monuments and iconography aimed at an Egyptian audience. These were far more concerned with stressing her own and her son’s legitimacy as rulers and their roles as divine representatives on earth. Horus, the good ruler of Egypt, is shown over the head of Caesarion in the form of a bird on the Dendera relief. The blessing of the gods who protect Egypt and ensure prosperity was the important thing. There is no place for a dead father or the need to avenge his death.
Perhaps there was a hint of this in the monument called the Caesareum, which Cleopatra devoted to Caesar in Alexandria, although it is not clear when work began on this, and it may well have been later in her reign. It is all too easy to forget that the monuments in the overtly Hellenic city have almost all been lost and focus only on the great and very Egyptian temples that survive. In Greek, Caesarion was titled ‘the father-loving and mother-loving god’ (Theos Philopator Philometor) and ‘Ptolemy called Caesar’. After the death of Ptolemy XIV, Cleopatra herself had dispensed with the title of’sibling-loving’, perhaps aware of the irony, but remained the ‘father-loving goddess’ (Thea Philopator).
Caesar was honoured, but there was never any attempt to present him either to Greeks or Egyptians as Cleopatra’s husband or consort, still less as king or pharaoh. He was a distinguished father to Caesarion, but the boy was first and foremost a Ptolemy, and it was through and with his mother that he rightfully ruled. Even if Cleopatra had a strong desire to avenge her lover’s death, she lacked the capacity to achieve this. She could aid the triumvirs, and it is striking that she attempted to do so in person, but it was beyond her capacity to do more than assist one side in Rome’s civil war. At this stage there is absolutely no trace of friction between Octavian, Caesar’s adopted son, and the real, if illegitimate, son Caesarion. The latter had no status at Rome. On top of that he was still a small boy, ruling nominally in Egypt only through his mother’s need for a consort. The Romans took adoption very seriously, viewing the bond as effectively as close as a blood relationship. While it might be mildly embarrassing to have a foreign, bastard son of the dictator as a visible reminder of the human Caesar’s indiscretions, there was nothing to make Caesarion more of a concern to Octavian. In no meaningful way could he be a rival and assuming that anyone could have considered this at so early a stage is misguided.15
Cleopatra had regained her throne through Caesar’s intervention. Her priority after his death was to survive and remain in power. This she did, disposing of her brother, fending off her sister and keeping control of Egypt, if not of Cyprus, against ambitious officials and any other rival. At the same time she managed to avoid having her kingdom seized or plundered by a Roman leader eager to exploit its resources and tried to help those she hoped or guessed would win. She managed to avoid direct collaboration with any of Caesar’s murderers, although had this become unavoidable it is doubtful that she would have refused this at the cost of losing her kingdom for the sake of personal hatred. Cleopatra was a pragmatic politician and she managed to survive a difficult few years. She was queen and her son was king. Together they promised long-term stability, which in itself helped to deter any challenges to their rule. Cleopatra had done all that she could to achieve this and done it well. Yet in the truly long term, everything depended, as it always did, on Rome and its leaders.