Latest / Marcus Aurelius: Rome's Philosopher King — Fexingo History / The Stoic Emperor's Unwanted Legacy: Commodus and the Fall
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- Lucas: So, we've spent a lot of time on Marcus Aurelius the philosopher, the stoic, the emperor on the Danube. But every story has a shadow side, and his is embodied in one name: Commodus. The son who would undo so much of what Marcus built. Luna: The gladiator emperor. The one who renamed Rome Colonia Commodiana. Lucas: Exactly. And it's a really tricky historical problem, because we have to separate the man from the myth. The ancient sources — Cassius Dio, Herodian, the Historia Augusta — they're unanimous in painting Commodus as a monster. But they're also writing from the perspective of the senatorial class, which Commodus famously alienated. So we need to read them with a grain of salt, but still, the broad strokes are hard to ignore. Lucas: Commodus was born in 161 AD, the same year his father became emperor. He was the first emperor born to a reigning emperor since Domitian, almost a century earlier. And crucially, he was the first son of a living emperor to survive infancy and reach adulthood since the early Julio-Claudians. So there was immense dynastic pressure. Luna: And Marcus had already lost several children. Faustina gave birth to maybe a dozen or more kids, but only Commodus and a handful of daughters lived to adulthood. Lucas: Right. So Commodus became the sole surviving male heir. And Marcus, despite his Stoic principles, seems to have invested heavily in his son's education. He hired some of the best tutors — including Onesicrates, a philosopher from the school of Sextus, and even the famous physician Galen lectured Commodus. But the results were... not what Marcus hoped. Lucas: By the time Commodus was a teenager, he was reportedly more interested in chariot racing and gladiatorial combat than philosophy. The Historia Augusta claims he was 'depraved and dishonest' from childhood, but that's probably retrospective exaggeration. Still, the pattern was set early. Luna: When did Marcus actually make Commodus co-emperor? Lucas: In 177 AD, when Commodus was just 16. He was given the title Augustus, equal to his father, and he accompanied Marcus to the Danube front. But he didn't have real responsibilities. He was being groomed, but essentially he was a teenager surrounded by sycophants and hardline military commanders. The real power was exercised by Marcus's trusted generals and advisors. Lucas: Then Marcus died in 180 AD, likely from the Antonine Plague or some complication of it, at Vindobona or Sirmium. And he left a 19-year-old Commodus as sole emperor. One of the first things Commodus did was end the Marcomannic Wars, which had been dragging on for over a decade. He made peace with the tribes on surprisingly lenient terms, and then he hurried back to Rome, abandoning his father's plan to annex territory. Luna: That must have infuriated the military establishment. Lucas: Absolutely. The soldiers on the Danube felt betrayed. And Commodus's return to Rome set the stage for a reign that would become increasingly erratic. At first, he was guided by his father's old advisors — men like the praetorian prefect Perennis and the a rationibus, the imperial finance officer, a freedman named Cleander. But it didn't take long for the infighting to begin. Lucas: In 182 AD, a conspiracy was hatched against Commodus. It was led by his own sister, Lucilla, who had been the widow of Lucius Verus. She was jealous of Commodus's wife, Crispina, and she arranged for her nephew, a senator named Quintianus, to stab Commodus in a theater. But Quintianus botched the assassination attempt — he supposedly shouted something like 'The Senate sends you this!' before stabbing, which gave Commodus's guards time to react. Luna: Wait, he announced the assassination before doing it? That's... not the best strategy. Lucas: Exactly. It's almost comical. But the conspiracy failed, and Commodus's response was brutal. Lucilla was exiled and later executed, along with many senators and suspected plotters. This was the turning point. Commodus became paranoid and increasingly relied on his inner circle of freedmen and praetorian prefects. Lucas: After the Lucilla conspiracy, Commodus withdrew from public affairs and left the administration to Perennis. But Perennis became too powerful and was executed in 185 AD after a mutiny by British legions, allegedly incited by Cleander. Then Cleander took over as the real power behind the throne, selling offices and amassing enormous wealth, until he was lynched by a Roman mob in 190 AD during a food shortage. Luna: So the mob essentially acted as an executioner. That's how unstable things were. Lucas: Yes. And Commodus's behavior became more bizarre. He began identifying himself with Hercules, wearing a lion skin and carrying a club. He appeared in the arena, fighting as a gladiator — not to the death, of course, but killing animals and disabled opponents. He charged the Roman treasury exorbitant fees for his 'performances'. And he renamed Rome Colonia Commodiana, the months of the year after his various titles, and even the Senate was called the 'Commodian Senate'. Lucas: This was, in a sense, the ultimate insult to the senatorial class. The Senate had always been the traditional partner in ruling the empire, and Commodus was treating it like a joke. Dio Cassius, who was a senator at the time, writes of the fear and humiliation they felt, forced to watch the emperor dress as a gladiator and pretend to fight. Luna: But the common people seemed to love him for it, right? Lucas: They did. The plebs enjoyed the spectacle, and Commodus was generous with grain distributions and games. For the urban populace, a gladiator emperor was entertaining. For the elite, it was a nightmare. The tension between the two groups is a classic feature of Roman politics. Lucas: By late 192 AD, the situation had become untenable. A conspiracy formed among his inner circle. His mistress, Marcia, his chamberlain Eclectus, and the praetorian prefect Laetus decided to poison him. When the poison didn't work fast enough, they had a wrestler named Narcissus strangle him in his bath on New Year's Eve, December 31, 192 AD. Luna: So the emperor who wanted to be Hercules was killed by a wrestler. There's some irony there. Lucas: Indeed. And with Commodus dead, the Antonine dynasty ended. The Senate immediately declared him a public enemy and ordered the damnatio memoriae — his statues were pulled down, his name erased from inscriptions. But his successor, Pertinax, was killed after only three months, and then the empire plunged into the Year of the Five Emperors, a civil war that would ultimately bring Septimius Severus to power. Lucas: So the legacy of Marcus Aurelius is complicated by Commodus. If Marcus had been able to choose a better successor — if he had followed the adoptive system that had served Rome so well for almost a century — the empire might have avoided a lot of bloodshed. But he chose blood, and it nearly broke the empire. Luna: Do we know why Marcus didn't adopt someone more capable? Was it just paternal love? Lucas: That's the big question. The ancient sources hint that Marcus may have recognized Commodus's flaws but felt he had no choice. The dynasty was still fragile, and a new adoption might have triggered a civil war. But it's impossible to know for certain. The Meditations, which are so introspective, never mention Commodus by name. That silence is deafening. Lucas: Ultimately, Commodus is a cautionary tale about the dangers of hereditary succession. Marcus, the philosopher-king, left us his Stoic reflections, but his real-world legacy was an unstable empire and a son who embodied everything he stood against. It's one of history's great ironies. Luna: It makes you wonder what Marcus would have written about him if he had lived to see his reign. Lucas: Maybe he would have said something about how we are all leaves on a tree, blown by the wind — and that even the most careful gardener can't control the fruit. Or maybe he would have just sighed, and returned to his meditations.