Latest / Marcus Aurelius: Rome's Philosopher King — Fexingo History / Marcus Aurelius and the Stoic Emperor's Succession Dilemma
Transcript
- Lucas: So Luna, we've talked a lot about Marcus Aurelius as the philosopher-emperor, his wars, his plagues, even his statue. But there's one decision that haunts his legacy more than any other — his choice of successor. Luna: You mean Commodus, right? The son who turned out to be a disaster. Lucas: Exactly. Commodus is famous — or infamous — as the emperor who fought as a gladiator, renamed Rome Colonia Commodiana, and whose assassination in 192 AD kicked off the Year of the Five Emperors. But the question is: why did Marcus, the Stoic sage, choose him? It's one of history's great what-ifs. Luna: Was it really his choice, though? I mean, wasn't he bound by family loyalty? Lucas: That's the core tension. For nearly a century, from Nerva to Antoninus Pius, Rome had used adoptive succession — each emperor chose the best man, not necessarily a blood relative. Trajan adopted Hadrian, Hadrian adopted Antoninus, Antoninus adopted Marcus and Lucius Verus. It was a system that produced five exceptionally capable rulers. But Marcus broke with that pattern. He elevated his biological son Commodus to co-emperor in 177 AD, when Commodus was just fifteen, and after Marcus's death in 180, Commodus ruled alone for twelve years. Luna: So he went from philosopher-king to dynastic father. That seems almost un-Stoic. Lucas: Well, Stoicism doesn't demand you abandon your family. In fact, Epictetus and Marcus himself emphasize duties to kin. But the question is whether Marcus put affection for his son above the good of the empire. Our main sources — Cassius Dio, Herodian, and the Historia Augusta — all portray Commodus as cruel, delusional, and incompetent. But they also write with hindsight, after his damnatio memoriae. So we have to be careful. Luna: What does Marcus himself say? In the Meditations, I mean. Lucas: Surprisingly little, directly. The Meditations are personal notes, not a policy journal. But there are hints. In Book 1, he thanks the gods that he didn't have a deformed or brutish son — so he was aware of the risks. And throughout, he wrestles with the impermanence of fame and the vanity of power. But he never explicitly discusses his succession plan. That silence is telling — maybe he was conflicted. Luna: Were there other options? Surely there were capable generals or senators. Lucas: There were. The most prominent was probably Tiberius Claudius Pompeianus, a Syrian-born general who had married Marcus's daughter Lucilla. Pompeianus was experienced, loyal, and respected — he had fought in the Marcomannic Wars. But he was also older, and he reportedly refused the purple when offered after Marcus's death. Another candidate might have been Pertinax, a future emperor, but he was of modest birth. The problem was that Commodus was already Caesar — junior emperor — from 177. To set him aside would have been a huge political upheaval, especially during the Antonine Plague, which had killed millions and destabilized the empire. Luna: So the plague might have made Marcus cling to his family? Lucas: That's a strong theory. The plague decimated the population, including the senatorial class. Marcus himself lost his co-emperor Lucius Verus to illness in 169, and several of his children died young. Only Commodus and a daughter survived to adulthood. In a time of such personal and public loss, Marcus may have felt an intense need to preserve his bloodline. Also, Commodus was born in 161, the year Marcus became emperor — he was literally the heir apparent from birth. Raising him to co-emperor at fifteen was risky, but perhaps Marcus hoped to train him on the job, with trusted advisors like Pompeianus and the praetorian prefect. Luna: But that didn't work out. What went wrong once Marcus died? Lucas: Almost immediately, Commodus ended the Marcomannic Wars — which Marcus had been on the verge of winning — by making a hasty peace with the tribes. He abandoned the newly conquered territories and returned to Rome, where he indulged in chariot racing and gladiatorial combat. He neglected administration, surrounded himself with favorites and conspirators, and executed or exiled anyone who opposed him. In 182, a conspiracy led by his sister Lucilla failed, but it shows how quickly the regime turned toxic. By the end, he was claiming to be Hercules reborn, renaming months, and demanding worship as a god. Luna: And yet he survived twelve years. That's pretty long for a 'bad' emperor. Lucas: It is. And it suggests that not all was chaos. The empire kept functioning — the frontiers held, grain shipments continued. Dio says Commodus was lazy, not insane, and that he left much administration to his prefects. The real disaster came after his murder in 192, when a civil war broke out between Septimius Severus and other claimants. That's when the damage truly compounded. But in the long view, Marcus's decision to favor blood over merit arguably ended the Pax Romana — the golden age of the Antonines. After Commodus, the empire never fully recovered. Luna: Could Marcus have done otherwise? Was there a Stoic answer? Lucas: Stoicism teaches that virtue is the only good, and that external things — fame, power, even family — are 'preferred indifferents.' Ideally, Marcus should have chosen the best man for Rome, even if it meant passing over his son. But as a father, he also had a duty to his household. The conflict between these duties is real. In the Meditations, he writes: 'Do not be ashamed of being helped, for it is your duty to accomplish what is assigned to you, like a soldier on the wall.' He saw himself as a soldier for Rome. And yet he failed to see — or chose not to see — that his son was a threat to the wall. Luna: That's a heartbreaking thought. The philosopher who knew everything about self-control couldn't control the succession. Lucas: And that's what makes it human. A quick honest thing — a handful of listeners chip in monthly through buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo, and that's literally what funds making this many of these. It's listener supported, no ads, just people who care about history. So if you've ever found yourself stepping into these conversations episode by episode, that's how they keep happening. Luna: Yeah, it's a small community but it really does the work. Anyway, back to Marcus — do we know if he had any last words about Commodus? Lucas: Cassius Dio reports that on his deathbed, Marcus Commended Commodus to the care of the gods and the senators, saying 'If he proves worthy, rejoice; if not, bear with him.' That story may be apocryphal, but it captures his resignation. He knew he was leaving a flawed heir, but he had done his best. The rest was up to fate — or, as a Stoic would say, up to the logos. Luna: So maybe he was at peace with it, even if history wasn't. Lucas: Perhaps. But the irony is that Marcus's own legacy is forever twinned with Commodus's failure. If Marcus had adopted a competent successor, like Trajan had done, the Antonine age might have lasted another generation. Instead, we got the seeds of the Crisis of the Third Century. And that raises a deeper question: can a good man be a good father and a good emperor at the same time? Or are those roles fundamentally in conflict? Luna: I guess it depends on whether you think the empire needed a philosopher or a father. Lucas: Exactly. And maybe Marcus thought he could be both. The tragedy is that he was wrong. But in his defense, he couldn't have known how bad Commodus would be. He was only fifteen when elevated — many Roman princes matured into capable rulers. But Commodus didn't. And that failure — more than any plague or war — is what ended the golden age. Luna: So next time someone says Marcus Aurelius was the perfect emperor, we can say, well, except for that one thing. Lucas: Right. And yet, even with that, he's still one of the best. It just shows that no leader is flawless — not even a Stoic sage. Alright, that's our time for today. Thanks for joining us on this deep dive into Marcus's most personal failure. Next time, we'll look at how Commodus's reign actually affected ordinary Romans — beyond the gladiator games. Luna: Looking forward to it. Until then, keep questioning history.