William Shakespeare
Giulio Cesare

In late 1500s England - when Elizabeth I Tudor was seated on the throne - Shakespeare found himself in the midst of the journey of his life, yet the fame and fortune of his Works were already in dizzying ascent.

Was this due to the quality of the dramaturgy? Yes, undoubtedly. However, another aspect should not be underestimated: the dexterity with which he caressed power, the skill of a seasoned chef with which he cooked slices of eternal Human Comedy stuffed with the raisins and candied fruits of political propaganda.

The entire colossal production of the "Historical Plays" is there to prove it. Passions, desires, vices, and human intrigues, of course, but - not even too covertly - also an apology for the Tudors who were inevitably cloaked in a heavenly mantle of virtue and knowledge in contrast to the representatives of rival houses painted with grim colors and deformed features (paradigmatic is the case of Richard III).

At the close of the 16th century, Shakespeare was worried, and so was the entire English society. An elderly Elizabeth I - a woman without children or consort and a queen tested by countless suppressed revolts - did not allow the name of a possible heir to the throne to leak in any way, and there was fear, at her death, of a bloody civil war.

In this context is placed "Julius Caesar".
"Comedy"? Evidently not. "Historical Drama"? Not even, as the play does not narrate the adventures and successions of English rulers. The Shakespearean canon labels it as "Tragedy".

But there's more. The "Julius Caesar" in fact sounds like a historical precedent, a warning, a coded message directed at Elizabeth I or, if not directly at her, at least at her court. An exhortation not to delay further and to clarify as soon as possible.

The Bard presents Julius Caesar at the peak of his power: victorious over Pompey, acclaimed by the people, feared and revered by a large entourage of senators of the Republic, a true centripetal force of Rome wishing to become its king. He speaks and moves like a man who feels invulnerable, but like Elizabeth, he is actually close to death.

Caesar in fact would have much to fear.

First of all, the envy that lurks beneath the surface among other political men of the city. The conspiracy that is slowly thickening behind him with Cassius as its mastermind and chief recruiter: "what food does this our Caesar eat that he has become so great? O times, you are covered in shame!"

But Caesar should also beware of other types of men. People who, although sincerely loving him, cannot overlook the growing centralizing vocation of his conduct and would not want to see Rome gutted by the claws of a tyrant. People like Brutus who, urged by Cassius to take a stand - "the fault, dear Brutus, lies not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings" - finally decides, after a long internal struggle, to support the conspirators and assassinate Caesar: "let us consider him as an egg of a serpent which, hatched, would according to its nature become harmful; let's kill it in the shell".

Caesar, above all, should fear himself: it's not enough to catch the omens of the heavens and the divinations of human beings, but one must listen to them. To the natural upheavals that seem to derail from the tracks of normalcy, the soothsayer who foretells him the ominous date of the Ides of March, the anguished premonitory dreams of his wife Caesar shrugs and flaunts the pride of an untamed beast: "cowards die many times before their deaths; the brave experience death but once".

At the beginning of Act III, the caesaricide is perpetrated and Rome thrown into civil war and summary justice. A situation that might have reappeared in Shakespeare's time if Elizabeth I had died without a designated heir.

The key to everything remains as always one: public opinion.

In the Tragedy, it is the ambiguous figure of Mark Antony who, after dissembling his true intentions to Brutus and Cassius, manages to cover the action of the conspirators in infamy by insinuating into the heart of the populace the idea that they had betrayed, not liberated. His funeral oration in the presence of Caesar's body is legendary, after which, once left alone, Antony shows his true face: "and now, let the thing run its course on its own. Ruin, you are unleashed, take the path you will".

The outcome is sealed and the sparse personal army of the rebels will be no match for the popular aversion and the imposing military machine of the Triumvirate formed by Antony, Octavian, and Marcus Aemilius Lepidus. A Triumvirate that will indeed obtain power, but will not escape the subsequent internal rifts (and related bloodsheds) that Shakespeare will narrate in "Antony and Cleopatra" and that will lead Octavian to be crowned the first Roman Emperor.

Cassius and Brutus will choose to take their own lives rather than be brought back to Rome in chains, and only then, observing his corpse, Antony will give Brutus what is Brutus's due: "all the conspirators, save only he, did that they did in envy of great Caesar; he only, in a general honest thought and common good".

Elizabeth I died without ever indicating an heir to the throne, but almost seamlessly, her place was taken by James I. Were Shakespeare's fears exaggerated? Perhaps, but the warning of "Julius Caesar" remains.

In fact, with a bit of imaginative translation, one could even shift the curse onto future generations of rebels: if you cut off the head of the System, be resolute in action, shrewd in management, and credible in the alternative.