Gladiator Examined
According to the State of Nature, War
Except for the well-known works of Seneca and Marcus Aurelius, what the Stoic sages taught their students appears largely referenced, described, or quoted by other authors living in different times.
In fiction, too, similar to the Stoic influence on Western philosophy, we find examples of Stoicism shown sporadically by protagonists called to virtue in various imagined contexts. Among recent works of fiction, however, one stands out in particular: Gladiator.
Directed by Ridley Scott, the film explores elements of Stoicism in the fictional aftermath of the death of Marcus Aurelius. Fiction can create such thought experiments allowing us to observe the practice of virtue in dramatic situations that may remind us of our own daily trials. In this sense, it can also serve as premeditatio malorum, which is, according to Pierre Hadot, “[a] Stoic spiritual exercise[s] consisted in the “pre-exercise” (praemeditatio) of “evils,” which we could gloss as an exercise that prepares us for facing trials.” And for the philosophically inclined history buffs out there asking “why the hell did Marcus Aurelius choose Commodus as his successor?” Gladiator provides an alternative history generous in “what ifs.”
With the twentieth anniversary of the film (and a sequel), the time is perhaps right to offer an interpretation of Gladiator through Stoic lens. For now, we will focus on the introductory scenes of the film that set the premise of the story.
The State of Nature
Gladiator opens with the ‘final battle’ of the long Marcomannic Wars fought by Marcus Aurelius to defend the Roman Empire against the Germanic tribes invading from the north. This intends to remind us of the most difficult realities of life: suffering, violence, and sudden death; and the scene sets a view of reality to be challenged and eventually replaced with a more peaceful option created through the actions and moral philosophy of the protagonist. In this sense, the opening scenes put us back in reality in a playful manner even if we are supposed to comfortably admire the creative spectacle of violence put on the screen before us.
Rather than being the Stoic living “according to nature” (kata physin) as philosophical practice, the state of nature in Gladiator is a representation of the well-known Hobbesian maxim “bellum omnium contra omnes” (war of all against all) meant to portray a world in perpetual violent contest driven by the archaic mentality of power of might makes right. Here, virtue is understood foremost as prowess in battle. Maximus, however, will gradually move away from this mentality, and it starts with the speech before battle.
After diplomacy fails and the Romans prepare to ‘unleash hell’, Maximus rides behind enemy lines to join his cavalry (equites). While war cries can be heard in the distance, Maximus motivates his soldiers with an unusual brief and straightforward speech.
Unlike so many famous speeches before battle, Maximus does not remind them of the ‘glory of Rome’ or of protecting the lives of the innocent and the helpless, nor does he refer to a noble cause to justify the battle. Instead, he reminds them of their attainable goals, calms their fears with humor, and encourages them to focus on the task ahead.
Maximus effectively tells his men that what matters most is here and now and to focus not on a potential outcome of the battle outside of their control, not even on the battle itself, but on how they will act during battle.
The Battle: Order and Chaos in the State of Nature
Once the battle commences, the film begins to explores the manifestation of man in this state of nature. Man is, as Thomas Hobbes said recalling a Latin proverb, “homo homini lupus” (a man is a wolf to another man). The wolf-like dog that follows Maximus into battle but then disappears from the narrative is a symbol in this sense. The producers wanted an actual wolf on set, but local laws made them improvise.
Hobbes deployed this ancient saying in De Civis to describe the destructive tendencies of societies, city-states, or nations. Seneca, on the other hand, with his characteristic literary wit and with a mind on the Stoic principle of oikeiôsis, reworked it in Letter XCV as “homo, sacra res homini” (man, an object of reverence in the eyes of man).
In this state of nature, we see two opposing forces: order (Romans) and chaos (Barbarians). As the Germanics shout and scream building themselves into battle frenzy, the Romans advance in perfect formation, and in silence.
The former resemble a warband of many tribes. It is probably a fragile union led by the imposing Germanic chieftain. Historically, chieftains and other nobles would lead their warriors, probably drunk, under their own banners seeking moments of glory. As such, many of them would charge without orders and would have difficulty adjusting to a chain of command.
The Romans, on the other side, fight as a single entity with predefined roles and duties in a command structure. The testudo, a tight infantry formation in which the legionaries work together to align their shields closely to protect front and top, is emblematic of Roman military training and discipline. And for the Romans, discipline is key. Amid chaos and death, discipline of mind and body will ensure victory.
However, both sides operate on the premise of “might makes right,” hence the battle. Maximus, as we shall see later, is outside of this archaic mentality of power by grounding his actions on an internal order based on virtue while partaking in the indifference of nature.
Glory: the Self vs. the Common
During battle, the Barbarian chieftain fights alone. Even in the moments before the battle as the legionaries advance and the missiles land, he is in front of his warriors, not among them. Maximus, however, charges in formation with his cavalry: “Hold the line! Stay with me!” During battle, Maximus is rarely alone and while the chieftain is overpowered by several legionaries and killed, his life is saved by one of his equites.
The distinction between the two commanders, then, is set along the parameters of achieving glory. One is the representative of a chaotic display of prowess in battle following a style of fighting that enables him to stand out among his warriors to gain personal glory while the other is representative of an ordered display of prowess in battle that makes him stand within by achieving a common goal through cooperation. Later in the film, during the bloody reenactment of the fall of Carthage in the Coliseum, we find Maximus working together with other gladiators to survive the game.
Marcus Aurelius wrote in Meditations (II.1) that “we were born for cooperation, like feet, like hands, like eyelids, like the rows of upper and lower teeth. So to work in opposition to one another is against nature.” Almost sixteen hundred years later, John Donne alluding, perhaps, to oikeiôsis titled a poem “No Man is an Island” and continued to say that “every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.”
This tension between the self and the common drives the entire narrative of Gladiator. The latter is not a reference to what we understand today by “for the community” or “for the group” as political, social, or economic philosophy. Rather, it is an acknowledgement of virtue-based actions and mentality that transcend these limitations to be applicable universally without eliminating the self.
After the battle and with the arrival of Commodus, the state of nature with its archaic mentality of might makes right moves from the foreground, the battlefield, into the background as the complex spectacle of politics and the violent gladiatorial games. As such, the tension between the self and the common becomes more nuanced.
Commodus, the Emperor of Rome, is now the Barbarian, the self set to employ the state of nature for his own personal glory by seeking to ‘manipulate the mob’ and gain its approval. Therefore, Commodus delegates the validation of the self to unstable and ephemeral ‘externals’ such as fame and perception of greatness. Maximus, on the other hand, will continue to represent ‘the common’, or rather, the self within the common as a harmonious union, working through the state of nature as violent contests to show an alternative based on acting out the cardinal virtues. Maximus eventually co-opts the approval of the masses not for himself or for glory itself, but for a goal that is not only personal, but serves the idea of Rome as well.
Now that we have examined the premise of Gladiator, in the next part we will explore Commodus, the cardinal virtues, and comment on historical accuracy and creative freedom in philosophical historical fiction.
