Latest / Marcus Aurelius: Rome's Philosopher King — Fexingo History / Marcus Aurelius and the Stoic Response to the Antonine Plague
Transcript
- Lucas: So, we have talked about the Marcomannic Wars, the legal reforms, the Rain Miracle, Avidius Cassius's rebellion, Faustina Minor's role—quite a range of Marcus Aurelius's reign. But one thing we have not really zeroed in on is the plague. The Antonine Plague. It was arguably the defining crisis of his rule, alongside the wars. Luna: Right, and we have mentioned it in passing in maybe half a dozen episodes, but never as a main subject. What do we actually know about it? Lucas: Quite a lot, actually, thanks largely to the physician Galen. He was in Rome during the outbreak, around 166 AD, and he left detailed clinical descriptions. The consensus now is that it was smallpox—the very first appearance of that disease in the Mediterranean world. The symptoms Galen describes are unmistakable: fever, pustules, black scabs, and a terrible mortality rate. Luna: So it came back with the troops from the east, right? From Lucius Verus's campaign against Parthia? Lucas: Exactly. The Roman army sacked Seleucia and Ctesiphon in 165, and when the soldiers returned to their garrisons along the Danube and the Rhine, and to Rome itself, they brought the plague with them. The historian Cassius Dio says that at the height of the outbreak in Rome, two thousand people died a day. That number might be exaggerated, but even a tenth of that would be catastrophic. Modern estimates put the total death toll across the empire at five to ten million people over fifteen years. Luna: That is staggering. How did Marcus respond as an emperor and as a Stoic? Lucas: Well, his practical response was pretty systematic. He issued edicts to regulate burials and prevent the accumulation of corpses, which were breeding grounds for infection. He also seems to have enforced a kind of quarantine on movement between provinces. And he maintained the grain dole and other public distributions even as the treasury was stretched thin by war and plague. But what is really interesting is the personal dimension. We have his Meditations, written during these very years, and you can see him wrestling with the reality of mass death. Luna: Does he ever mention the plague directly in the Meditations? Lucas: Not by name, but there are passages that clearly reflect that context. For instance, in Book 4, he writes: 'How many after all the greatest renown have been given to oblivion, and how many who celebrated their praises have long since been dead.' And elsewhere: 'To bear in mind constantly that all of this has happened before, and will happen again—the same spectacle, the same actors.' That is Stoic memento mori, but it is also a man trying to make sense of an epidemic that seemed to strike indiscriminately. Luna: It must have been hard to maintain that composure when people were dying all around him, including his own family. Lucas: Absolutely. His co-emperor Lucius Verus died of the plague in 169. And we know from the correspondence with Fronto that Marcus lost a number of his children to disease, probably including during the plague years. The Stoic ideal was to remain unaffected by external events, but Marcus was clearly grieving. In the Meditations, he reminds himself that death is natural and that the wise man does not fear it, but the tone is not cold—it is more like self-persuasion, a constant effort to accept what he cannot change. Luna: So the plague did not just kill people—it destabilized the whole empire. The army must have been hit hard. Lucas: Hugely. The Marcomannic Wars dragged on in part because the legions were decimated by disease. New recruits had to be raised from slaves and gladiators, and even then, Marcus had to settle barbarian tribes as coloni to farm the abandoned lands. The plague also disrupted trade and tax revenues, which made it harder to fund the wars. Some scholars argue that the Antonine Plague was a key factor in the Crisis of the Third Century a few decades later, because it permanently weakened the Roman demographic base. Luna: It is strange to think that a philosophical emperor's reign is so associated with war and plague, not just with Stoic ideals. Lucas: Yes, and that is exactly why his Meditations are so compelling. They are not abstract theory; they are a ruler's private notes to himself during an existential crisis. He wrote things like: 'The art of living is more like wrestling than dancing'—meaning you have to be ready for sudden pressure, not just graceful movement. And he also reminds himself not to let the fear of death or disease corrupt his character. One of my favorite passages is from Book 7: 'Do not think of things that are not present as if they were present, but rather dwell on the best of what is present.' That is pure Stoic mindfulness applied to a pandemic. Luna: That is actually really practical advice for anyone living through a crisis. It sounds like cognitive behavioral therapy two thousand years early. Lucas: Exactly. And that is part of why Stoicism has seen a revival in recent years—people find it helpful for dealing with anxiety and uncertainty. But for Marcus, it was not a self-help book; it was survival. He had to lead an empire through war and plague while maintaining his own sanity. And he did it, as far as we can tell, without becoming tyrannical or paranoid. That is remarkable given the pressures. Luna: What about the psychological impact on the population? Were there religious explanations or scapegoating? Lucas: There were. The traditional Roman religion offered sacrifices and supplications to the gods. The emperor himself participated in public rituals to appease the gods. But there was also a rise in superstition and a turn to foreign cults. We know that the worship of the Egyptian gods, like Serapis and Isis, became more popular during this period. And some blamed the Christians, though the persecution under Marcus was not empire-wide—it was more localized and often driven by mob violence rather than imperial decree. Luna: But Marcus's own response, as you say, was pretty rational. He did not go on a scapegoating campaign. Lucas: No, he did not. And that is consistent with his Stoic belief that what happens to us is not good or bad in itself—only our judgments about it are. He could not stop the plague, but he could control how he responded. He chose to act with practical measures and philosophical acceptance. In the Meditations, he writes: 'If you are pained by external things, it is not they that disturb you, but your own judgment of them. And it is in your power to wipe out that judgment.' That is a tough standard, but he lived by it. Luna: So the Antonine Plague is one of those events that changed the course of Roman history, but it is often overshadowed by the wars and the philosophy. Lucas: Right. And part of that is because the sources are thin. We have Galen's medical writings, a few passages in Cassius Dio, and some archaeological evidence like mass graves. But the plague did not have its own historian. It is a silent catastrophe that we are still trying to understand. For example, we do not even have a clear mortality figure for the city of Rome. But the best guess is that at least a quarter of the empire's population died over the course of the outbreak, which fundamentally reshaped the Roman world. Luna: Before we go further, I want to say—if you are finding this conversation useful or interesting, and you want to keep these episodes ad-free and freely available, there is a simple way to help. Buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. That literally funds these deep dives. Lucas: Yeah, listener support is what lets us spend the time on these topics without worrying about sponsors. So if today was worth a coffee to you, that is the link—buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Luna: So back to the plague: did Marcus ever contract it himself? I know he died at Carnuntum in 180, but was that from the plague? Lucas: We cannot be entirely sure. The sources say he fell ill during the Marcomannic campaign, and some historians suspect it was the plague. But others think it might have been a stomach ailment or simply old age—he was 58, which was old for a Roman emperor. Cassius Dio says he died of a disease, but does not specify what. Given that the plague was still active, it is plausible. But the interesting thing is that even on his deathbed, he was seen as calm and philosophical. The Historia Augusta, though not always reliable, says he spoke to his friends about the soul and the afterlife, and then covered his head and slept away. Luna: That is a very Stoic end. No drama, just acceptance. Lucas: Exactly. And that is what makes the Antonine Plague such a rich subject for understanding Marcus Aurelius. It was the backdrop for his most personal writings and the ultimate test of his philosophy. He could not control the disease, but he could control his own mind. And in the end, that is what he left us—not a cure, but a model of how to face the inevitable with dignity.